It’s hard to know where to start…
When I first found out I was expecting? After my first traumatic c-section? When I was expecting my second? But I think the narrative truly began as a child.“She’s so little!” is what I heard my entire life. And it was true. I was disqualified from so much. “Can you please just let her ride?!” My mom begged the attendant who ran the swings at Cedar Point amusement park. I was too short for that ride and everything else that day on our family vacation. “Please! She’s nine years old” my mom felt so bad for me. She always fought for me. I tried out for various sports: basketball, volleyball, soccer, etc. Eventually, I stopped. After middle school there was no way I could keep up or have the same strength as my peers. I didn’t let that label totally stop me from doing things, but I realized I had to approach things from my own angle. And I usually knew it required a little extra umph on my part.
On another note, I was the third kid in my family and I remember nagging my parents to have more! I loved big families. I wanted to be in one and I wanted to have one someday too. But I would occasionally think about the difficulties that lie there. Could I deliver my own kids? Was my body too small? I couldn’t quite imagine.
Life didn’t take shape quite as I planned. In my own timeline I would have been married and had first kid by the time I was 25. But, 25 came and went and I met my husband at 29 and we got married at 30. Within four months we found out we were expecting. I was elated! Totally over the moon. I’ll never forget driving to work that morning and dreaming about how I’d tell my husband later that evening. I wept the whole way to work. This was the best news I had ever been given. My biggest dreams were coming true. Since I was 30, I really didn’t know what getting pregnant would look like. Would we struggle? So many of our friends were struggling to get pregnant so we didn’t take this for granted.
I started to face some of my fears as my delivery date drew near.
We took a birth class from some local doulas and we decided we really wanted to have an unmedicated, natural childbirth. I was excited to get into a midwifery practice that delivered in a hospital. It was the best of both worlds. I could have my baby as natural as possible but everything medically necessary was available if things went awry. I was starting to feel confident and I kept holding on to a saying that I’d heard from my sister’s midwife, “God doesn’t allow the fish to outgrow the fishbowl.” I lived my life depending on God and I felt that I could trust this truth. Surely God wouldn’t give me a baby to big for my body to deliver. I was small and I married a smaller guy too. He’s a lot more average than I was, but he’s not a giant. So I felt good about that.
Finally, my day came and I woke up one morning with light contractions. I took a shower and I felt my water break. The contractions then came regularly. I labored for a short time at home but headed to the hospital at my doula’s recommendation. When we arrived at the hospital things had slowed down because of the odd position I was in during the car ride. My labor continued, but quite slowly. After about 12 hours, I was exhausted and elected to get an epidural hoping my body would relax enough to get baby down. Even with the epidural in place I couldn’t seem to get past 6cm and my labor stalled. At this point my water had been broken for 24 hours and my temperature was increasing. The doctor was concerned about infection setting in so we prepped for a c-section. I was happy to do whatever was best for baby at that point and we were elated to meet our baby girl shortly thereafter. She was perfect and we were overjoyed.
When we came home though, my recovery was dark.
That’s when things changed.
“Melissa, do you trust me?”And I thought, yes of course I do. But then I realized- I hadn’t been trusting God at all. I hadn’t asked him for help and I wasn’t willing up to that point to mentally trust my daughter’s future to my God in whom I trusted for everything else. I cried and repented for not trusting Him. Of course, this was the problem. I needed help. There was no way I could do this alone. And for the rest of her life I would need to “lay her down” in order to trust God for her future. I can’t always be there. But he can be. He’s God. He’s everywhere. He can be with her 24/7. This was what I needed. After crying and mentally giving my daughter over to the Lord in my heart - I finally slept peacefully and my trajectory changed from that point on. I left that dark place and began to heal physically and emotionally. God was good. He helped me out of that pit along with my sister, mom and husband. And I’m forever grateful.
My bright and beautiful girl turned 9 months old and we found out we were expecting baby #2! We were thrilled! I had always wanted my kids to grow up close in age. And these two would be 18 months apart. I debated a repeat c- section throughout the pregnancy because I heard elective repeat c-sections aren’t nearly as bad as being in labor for a long time and then having a c- section. However, I had a Doctor cheering me on and I felt confident that this birth could be different. A few days before going into labor I had this conversation with the Holy Spirit and I just wanted to know if I could birth a baby vaginally. And I felt strongly that he said yes. So, I confidently went into labor a few days later. My labor was going very well and I arrived at the hospital at five cm dilated. I quickly progressed to a seven, and I elected to get an epidural. The midwife on call said I looked great and I should tell her when I felt pressure because baby was coming! I couldn’t believe it. Is that it? Were we that close? I was ecstatic! Sadly, my epidural never took and my body didn’t relax. And I couldn’t move around. So, baby never descended into place. Hours later they said, “you’re not progressing and baby isn’t handling the contractions well anymore.” So, we prepped for a second c-section. I was very alert this time and I didn’t make some of the same mistakes I did the first time. I tried to drink everything the hospital gave me, I nursed as frequently as possible for my milk supply and I ate food as soon as they said I could. I recovered better and I was in better spirits. But my body ached. I couldn’t even roll over, let alone sit up on my own. The physical recovery from the c-section surgery was serious and frustrating. And spiritually, I went reeling a bit. “God, I thought you said I could deliver this baby? What happened? Why did you say that? Why am I here lying in this bed now unable to answer my baby’s cries?” I was frustrated. BUT, I knew that God was still good and He must have a plan. So I dug in deeper to the Bible and I asked my closest friends to pray with me as I wrestled with this place I was in. I truly sought the Lord more in that time. And I can’t say that I got any clear answers, but I rested in the fact that He was with me. I wasn’t alone and He hadn’t abandoned me. I knew I didn’t understand it all, but I chose to trust God had a bigger and better plan- and that I couldn’t see the full picture from where I was sitting. I also know that we don’t always get clear answers to things here on earth, but our longing for perfection is truly our deeper longing for God and our heavenly home where things will be perfect. No pain. No tears.
Following these two births, I was simply glad I had two beautiful daughters and that my body healed eventually. My friend Debbie reached out to me at one point and asked if I could encourage another momma who was scheduled to have a c-section. I cried and told her I didn’t feel like I had much to offer. Birth was still a pretty traumatic experience for me. And I wasn’t sure what to say. Certainly mommas should rely on God’s strength. But I realized I still had much to process in that regard since a quick mention of it brought me to tears. I did know one thing- I wanted to be there for those momma's afterwards. I liked helping people in need, but after my birth experiences, I really wanted to SHOW UP for my friends and even people I didn’t know after their births. I've tried to be there with meals, breastfeeding encouragement, every day encouragement, whatever was needed! I didn’t want people to feel alone or hopeless! And God grew my compassion for mommas in that space in a big way.
A while later my husband and I started trying to have our third. We didn’t get pregnant right away. I was really hoping we’d get to have a third. I grew up with three and I definitely didn’t want to be done at two. After a few months we found out we were expecting baby #3. I was so excited! I hadn’t really thought about where I would deliver a third baby because I figured I would just cross that bridge when we got there. Well, now the rubber met the road and I had to decide what to do. Would I try for a vbac again? My friend and doula, Karen, from my first birth recommended that I find a different OB practice that was considered more high risk. She encouraged me to simply look around. The practice I had been at was a low intervention place and they were not comfortable with risk. The Doctor who had cheered me on with my second baby delivered a hefty blow of a message to me on my six week postpartum visit.
“Melissa, don’t ever try to have a vaginal birth again. You will just be doing your body a disservice. Your pelvis is too small to deliver a baby.”
And she added, there’s only one practice in the area who would even consider allowing you to try- and that’s the University hospital. I knew she meant well, so I took her words to heart. But my friend Karen’s words also made sense to me. She said, “it’s a very rare occurrence in the medical field that you have too small a pelvis to deliver a baby.” She challenged that Doctor’s words: “did she truly check your pelvis for that?” I didn’t think she had- and she wasn’t the one in the delivery room when I had my second. So, I was mildly curious.
So, I went on a search. Not for a new OB per se. But just a second opinion. I prayed God would lead me to the right people. I wanted to find a high risk doctor that was vbac supportive just to get their expert opinion. Was my pelvis really too small? What had gone wrong in their estimation? I found one. But it wasn’t close. He was about 2 hours away. From the recommendations of many other moms who had been in my place, via Facebook, I found all kinds of recommendations and they all pointed to the same doctor. He had been practicing for a really long time (he was in his 80’s) and he was very comfortable with a high level of risk: vbac after multiple c sections, breech, multiples, etc. Then, as I searched his practice I stumbled upon the name of one of the midwives in his practice. I couldn’t believe it. I knew her! I had talked with her once about my first daughter's birth at her sister’s bridal shower. Her level of compassion blew me away and I remembered choking back tears at that party thinking, I wish this woman had delivered my baby.
Flash forward. I made an appointment at that practice to get their opinion. My husband came with me. I saw both the doctor and that midwife. Both were great! The doctor was real, honest, and compassionate too. He examined my pelvis and was surprisingly optimistic. He said, “your first two angles are great”- then he was quiet. He finished the exam and said,
So, I went on a search. Not for a new OB per se. But just a second opinion. I prayed God would lead me to the right people. I wanted to find a high risk doctor that was vbac supportive just to get their expert opinion. Was my pelvis really too small? What had gone wrong in their estimation? I found one. But it wasn’t close. He was about 2 hours away. From the recommendations of many other moms who had been in my place, via Facebook, I found all kinds of recommendations and they all pointed to the same doctor. He had been practicing for a really long time (he was in his 80’s) and he was very comfortable with a high level of risk: vbac after multiple c sections, breech, multiples, etc. Then, as I searched his practice I stumbled upon the name of one of the midwives in his practice. I couldn’t believe it. I knew her! I had talked with her once about my first daughter's birth at her sister’s bridal shower. Her level of compassion blew me away and I remembered choking back tears at that party thinking, I wish this woman had delivered my baby.
Flash forward. I made an appointment at that practice to get their opinion. My husband came with me. I saw both the doctor and that midwife. Both were great! The doctor was real, honest, and compassionate too. He examined my pelvis and was surprisingly optimistic. He said, “your first two angles are great”- then he was quiet. He finished the exam and said,
“it’s getting the baby into your pelvis that will be tough, but if you get the baby in there- you will deliver it.”
So I asked what my odds were in his estimation of having a vbac. He said when you came in the door, I thought, 60% chance and after examining you, I’d say 50/50. I didn’t love those odds, but I guess it wasn’t out of the question. I asked him, what would you do? He said, I’d definitely try. He said that can’t hurt. Then I told him about my other two very long labors. He understood and with compassion in his eyes and an understanding, he said he wouldn’t let me labor on like that. “I’ll know if it’s going to work, and if it’s not- we’ll call it and get the c section.” I was really comforted by those words.
Then, I met with the midwife, Stephenia. She was awesome. She immediately wanted to dial into why I had made such a large baby for my body during my first pregnancy. So, she had me trying and changing all kinds of things that I had not done before. We learned that I was gestational diabetic with my third, so we managed that. (I had been checked with both of my first two pregnancies, but it wasn’t caught with the conventional glucose tests).
Bottom line. This pregnancy was different because the care I received was totally different. Thankfully, even though the OB practice was 2 hours away, I did most of my appointments remotely and it was such a blessing to not worry about carting my other two kiddos to a bunch of appointments! I continually thanked God for giving me favor through the kindness shown by Stephenia. I often wondered why I was so favored to be cared for in such a sweet way. Being able to text your midwife and get responses without going into an office was wonderful. I loved the personal care.
As the birth of our third came close my husband and I were at the beach enjoying some family time one evening. We love the beach in the evenings when it’s not too hot and you don’t have to worry about sunscreen, shade, hats, etc. Anyways, here we were enjoying some time and my husband was encouraging me to actually swim, but I was a little nervous. The waves that evening weren’t smooth and with the tide the way it was, the waves were crashing into shore. But I tried to get past my concerns and I went in. My husband is a great swimmer (former lifeguard and competitive swimmer) so I usually feel secure with him nearby- especially with our kids. Well, he had our daughter who was about two years old in a life jacket and we were all past the breakers. My husband had to go to shore for a minute and he asked if I’d be okay with our daughter. I thought I should be fine, but I wasn’t excited about it. He handed her to me. Well, within a few moments he was out of the water and I was somehow closer to shore. Before I realized it, I got knocked over by a wave. Then the waves were crashing so hard, I couldn’t get up. With my big belly, I really needed two hands to get off the bottom, but I was holding our two year old daughter. And now, she was getting tossed by the waves and I could barely keep her above the water. It was awful. I freaked out and I was so thankful my husband was still within ear shot. My daughter was crying and I couldn’t help her. I yelled for my husband and he saw what was happening. He ran over and grabbed our daughter. Then I was able to get out. But I was totally shaken. It was so scary. It happened so fast. My husband was honestly a little baffled by how quickly we ended up in such a predicament and he wanted to understand what happened, but I couldn’t talk. I needed a few moments to breathe. I was quiet for a while and I sat on our blanket. Eventually my husband encouraged me to not let my fear of the water take over. He told me to try again. But I told him I wasn’t ready. I walked towards the water and sat down by myself. This fear of the water reminded me so much of my fear of childbirth. I started having a super real conversation with God about it all. This is how I felt about birth- a slight fear of drowning. What if I didn’t make it? What if I go under? What if my child is in trouble?
Eventually all these questions I had were surfacing and I needed peace.
As a Christian, I knew God had the answers and I felt like the Holy Spirit was gently prodding me to ask all of them. He would ask me…. So what happens then? It went something like this…I’m afraid I’m going to be in pain for so long.I was able to breathe again. I cried and then sobbed. I was so thankful. I had been carrying this weight for a long time. I thought back to when I first felt the fear of childbirth and I realized it started as a kid because of all the comments I heard about being so small. But I finally released it to the Lord. The God of the universe. I was in good hands.
I’ll be with you. I’ll never leave you or forsake you. I’ll give you peace.
I’m afraid I’ll end up with another c- section after trying to have a vbac.
And then what?
I’ll be stuck recovering on my back again in pain and unable to answer my child’s cries.
I will provide for you and be with you. I will be your help in time of need.
I’m afraid something might go wrong during the vbac.
And then what?
I’m afraid…. I’m afraid I might die! Big sigh.
Melissa, and then what?
Then I’ll be with you. Relief flooded me. Oh.
And then what?
You’ll take care of Zach and the kids. Because that’s what you do.
Yes, Melissa. Follow your fears to the end of them - and I’m there. There is nothing to fear because you’re in my perfect love.
I had a different outlook after that. I was ready to try for the vbac and I wasn’t afraid. I wrote down several scriptures that were an encouragement to me and I gave them to my husband to read to me during birth so I could be reminded of God’s promises.
Fast forward to November and it was baby time!!! We prepared for yet another trial of labor. However, this time, we induced at 39 weeks. Knowing baby was likely big, we didn’t wait for baby to come like I’d done with the other two. But when I say induction it’s not what most people think! It was the most gentle induction. With all the dietary aids and supplements that I was doing, my body was very ready at 39 weeks. So it didn’t take much priming! We did an outpatient foley tube the night before. I was already at 3cm when I got the foley tube. It was overall pretty great. Stephenia told me to take a Tylenol for the cramping and a Benadryl to sleep through it. So I did, and she was right. I slept right through the worst of the cramping and around midnight I woke up and the foley tube could come out. The cramping was over. Then she had me wake up early around 6:00 am to drink a special concoction for labor and I had to power walk to get the contractions going.
Our formal induction at the hospital didn’t start until 8;00am. Unfortunately, I had caught some cold virus and I was fighting some nasty congestion. I could tell my body was very tired so I laid down until it was time to go. I turned on my birth playlist which consisted of worship music and I started to cry. I was overwhelmed by the idea that I needed to give birth that day. I already felt weak in my physical body because of the virus I was fighting and I could not imagine having the strength to push a baby out. That’s when I felt the Holy Spirit speak so tenderly this verse,
Fast forward to November and it was baby time!!! We prepared for yet another trial of labor. However, this time, we induced at 39 weeks. Knowing baby was likely big, we didn’t wait for baby to come like I’d done with the other two. But when I say induction it’s not what most people think! It was the most gentle induction. With all the dietary aids and supplements that I was doing, my body was very ready at 39 weeks. So it didn’t take much priming! We did an outpatient foley tube the night before. I was already at 3cm when I got the foley tube. It was overall pretty great. Stephenia told me to take a Tylenol for the cramping and a Benadryl to sleep through it. So I did, and she was right. I slept right through the worst of the cramping and around midnight I woke up and the foley tube could come out. The cramping was over. Then she had me wake up early around 6:00 am to drink a special concoction for labor and I had to power walk to get the contractions going.
Our formal induction at the hospital didn’t start until 8;00am. Unfortunately, I had caught some cold virus and I was fighting some nasty congestion. I could tell my body was very tired so I laid down until it was time to go. I turned on my birth playlist which consisted of worship music and I started to cry. I was overwhelmed by the idea that I needed to give birth that day. I already felt weak in my physical body because of the virus I was fighting and I could not imagine having the strength to push a baby out. That’s when I felt the Holy Spirit speak so tenderly this verse,
“my grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in weakness. For when you are weak, I am strong.”
That was it! That’s what I needed. I said, “God, I do not have the strength to birth my baby today, but you do. Please give me your strength. Your supernatural strength.” And then my whole body relaxed because I knew that I couldn’t do this- but He could. And He would help me. Supernatural strength. Yes. I smiled and rested.
By the time I arrived at the hospital for my formal induction I was already dilated to 6cm. At that point, my midwife said the next step was to break my water to get things moving. I wasn’t thrilled about this knowing it would intensify labor, but I understood. She said that my water was like a balloon and baby was not going to engage in my pelvis without breaking the water because he just kept bouncing off the pelvis. This made sense to me. So after breaking my water, I went into active labor with intense contractions. In hindsight it was kind of funny for my husband. Before we broke my water we realized I had forgotten something at the hotel and he was going to run back and get it. (It was only a mile away). Stephenia asked me if I wanted to wait for him to come back before we broke the water. I told her “no” thinking that we should get everything started because in my experience labor takes all day! So when my husband came back and found me naked, breathing heavy, laboring through intense contractions, he was a bit shocked to see the progress that had been made. The midwife and nurses had me changing positions every 10 minutes so labor didn’t feel as bad. At one point though, I felt like I had reached my max. I had no more strength in me and I told Stephenia, listen- “I can’t go on like this much more. I need an epidural.” She discouraged me from getting one but I quickly forgot because shortly after that I started pushing. Pushing was so much easier! And I was surprised that we were already pushing!!! This baby was big though so I pushed for two hours trying to get him out! It took everything I had. But I was so encouraged. I literally felt like I was running a marathon and the support around me was incredible. I had two people holding my legs up and another midwife giving me counter pressure in my pelvis. It was amazing. I was acutely aware that I could not hold my legs up on my own anymore. They ached. We’d been doing this for almost two hours. And I was also very much aware of the help that I was receiving by the counter pressure. When each contraction was about to start, I’d try to tell them because I was desperate for their help. Stephenia kept coaching me in my breathing, pushing, positioning, etc. And she was an incredible cheerleader! I felt like I had a cheering squad at a sporting match. I was so thankful. Towards the end, two doctors came in the room, and there were nurses and both midwives were also present. I could tell by my midwife’s encouragement to push that there was an urgent need to get the baby out or we’d be dealing with a c-section. I pushed with all my might with every contraction. Then finally, there was one last push and I felt relief. The head came out and so did his body. They handed him to me and I cried. I was exceedingly grateful. But I had zero strength left. I could barely muster the words, “please help” when they handed me my son. I was afraid I would drop him. I had no strength in my arms to even hold him. So they held him to my chest as he quieted down and began to nurse. And I then realized I couldn’t see straight either. I had broken blood vessels while pushing so I just wanted to keep my eyes closed. I was so relieved that it was all over! I don’t remember much about the next couple hours because I felt so limp. But I do remember when my nurse told me I needed to try and use the bathroom. I remember asking her if it was really necessary. I had zero desire to move. I just wanted to lay there. It felt so good to not move. But she insisted so she helped me up and she put me in a wheelchair. Then she told me we had to move rooms and I was not excited about that either. I just wanted to rest. But rules are rules in the hospital and she gave me my son to hold as she was about to wheel me down the hallway. That’s when I really saw him. I remember saying, “my son” and I cried so hard. My son! God gave me a son! I was elated, overjoyed and incredibly thankful. It was hard, but on that beautiful day in November, God helped me birth my son and I was exceedingly grateful!
In the days that followed, I would occasionally find myself staring at my son in amazement. You did it, Lord. With your strength, you helped me overcome my fear of childbirth. And I saw it come to fruition. And I had a son! I listened to the song, “Promises” by Maverick City Music on repeat.
Time and time again
You have proven
You'll do just what You said
Though the storms may come
And the winds may blow, I'll remain steadfast
And let my heart learn when You speak a word
It will come to pass
Great is Your faithfulness to me
Great is Your faithfulness to me
From the rising sun to the setting same
I will praise Your name
Great is Your faithfulness to me
I put my faith in Jesus
My anchor to the ground
My hope and firm foundation
He'll never let me down
The overall recovery from my third baby was so much easier than recovering from my c-sections. And that is saying a lot, because I still had some trouble. Sadly, while I was in the hospital, one of the nurses without realizing it moved an ice pack and ripped my stitches. It was excruciating pain and at that point it was not customary to re-stitch. But this set me back. For a solid week I could not sit down. I had to stand up or lay down. This proved to be a struggle to nurse my little one. This experience sent me crying out to God for help once again. And I am so thankful that God answers those prayers! I received so much help in those days after our son was born. I think we had almost a full month of meals. Every other day someone was bringing us food - and it was usually more than enough for one meal. We were so loved and cared for by our friends, family and church family.
I was acutely aware that we wouldn't have been able to do this alone.
I am so thankful for the church community that rallies around those who need support. I remember one Sunday I was feeling a bit overwhelmed and I walked into our small room for nursing mommas. I sat down in a comfy rocking chair and told God I needed help. Immediately after getting the words out of my mouth, a lady named Jess walked in the room who doesn’t have babies and I wondered why she'd be in the nursing moms room. Surprisingly, she came to talk to me. I didn’t know her super well at the time so I was a little surprised. She just flat out told me that she felt like God told her to come and ask me if I needed help. I couldn’t hold back my tears and I quietly sobbed a little as I said, yes. I wasn’t even sure what I needed - but I knew I needed help. In the days to come, she showed up with meals, mopped my floors, read books to my girls and offered her encouragement. She truly encouraged me and more than anything else I was in awe of how the Lord answers our prayers with flesh on. He is so good I was so humbled by God’s tender care for me as his daughter.
I woke up one morning that next November and I felt so sick. What was happening? I was frustrated, I could barely function. Without much hesitation, I reached out to our community group from church. I asked if any of the ladies were free that day to help me with my kids. I felt so ill. Then I called my mom. As I described my symptoms, she looked at me via facetime and said,
Circumstances had changed this time and I wasn’t able to go back to the same practice a couple hours away. I made an appointment at the University Hospital in our town knowing that they were the most vbac friendly place. As I parked my car for that first appointment, I remember feeling a peace that God would take care of me this time around. And furthermore, I felt like I was being sent to be an encouragement to those I met. I was thankful for this outlook, because without it, I would have been immediately frustrated. This place was unorganized. The wait times were sometimes hours and the level of care varied by the office staff. During the anatomy scan done at the second ultrasound, I found out that our baby’s brain had some holes in it. The ultrasound tech seemed totally unphased. She said it was on the early side to have an anatomy scan and that likely these holes would go away. She said they usually do. I asked her what these holes were a possible indicator of? She was hesitant to answer, but said they measure them just in case so they can keep an eye out since they are sometimes an indicator for Down syndrome. I understood.
I then met with the nurse practitioner and she explained the same thing, but was much more concerned. She asked if I wanted to speak with a genetic counselor. I declined. And she asked if I wanted to have genetic blood testing done. I declined that too. From what I understood, if our baby had Down’s syndrome, I wasn’t going to change one thing about our pregnancy. Then, while I was talking to the nurse practitioner, someone knocked on our door. It was the attending doctor. He wanted to know if I wanted to speak to a counselor and encouraged me to get the genetic blood test done. So, the NP came back in and asked me yet as again if I wanted these things done. No. I don’t. I was becoming more sure with each mention of the risk. I had a slight understanding that many genetic counseling discussions end with- do you want to abort this baby? And the thought of that infuriated me.
Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated with this practice, and I wanted to find another place. Surely, God wouldn’t want me there. So I looked around. I went to one practice and before even seeing the doctor I had zero peace. Then the doctor came in and told me that given my history of two c- sections they wouldn’t even let me try for a vaginal birth. She said if I did show up in labor, they would transfer me to the other hospital. All in all, the OB told me to go back to the University hospital. So I did. And as I did, I felt such a peace again. During this process, I reached out to Stephenia, the midwife who delivered Malachi and she said she’d help me again. I was thrilled. So we made a plan.
Given my history of big babies, both the OB and Stephenia felt that it was a good idea to induce at 39 weeks. However, this time, Stephania came to my house and helped me get into labor. On a Sunday night she checked me and I was 3cm dilated. She swept my membranes and we waited to see what would happen. I felt some cramping, but it eventually subsided. In the meantime, I got the best surprise! My sister flew across the country without me knowing to be there for my fourth baby! I was incredibly touched and thankful. The next morning I drank the midwives brew. I felt some cramping and some light contractions. We waited around and eventually I ate lunch. Around 12:30pm I started having contractions and at 1:00pm we prepared to head to the hospital. My water broke just as we were about to leave and the contractions then came with extreme intensity. My husband drove so fast and dropped us off at the front door. It was a long walk to labor and delivery. We found a wheelchair about halfway there. We blew through triage and were put in a room. About 20-30 minutes later, I felt the need to push. And Joshua was born at 2:31pm. He came so fast.
It was incredible! I couldn’t believe he was already here. I had so much energy and I was alert! “Yay! Thank God!” I cheered, over and over!
This birth felt so redemptive. So this is how it could be? No meds, no aftermath of the pain medicine and craziness! No catheters, etc. I was hardly swollen down there. Especially compared to the last birth! I was elated! My healing seemed to be coming right along.
I’ve been looking back at all my births because my midwife asked me to put into words my story. It’s been a journey. One that I’m happy to share. And one that I hope encourages others to trust Christ through the process. Even as I prepared for my fourth baby, I had some old fears creep in…
What if the pain is unbearable?
What if I end up with another c section?
What if I die?
But this time, I knew how to handle those fears. I spoke the truth of God’s word to myself. He won’t leave me or forsake me. I prayed. I told God my fears and I reminded myself that there is no fear in death when you’re in Christ. The only fear is the sin that causes death and separation from Christ. I meditated on this passage:
““O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”
1 Corinthians 15:55-58 ESV
I’m incredibly thankful to God for carrying me through and caring enough about me to set me free from fear. I’m so thankful to Stephenia for her passionate support of mommas wanting to give birth without fear. Without her expertise and care, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And I’m so so grateful for my husband who understood me and has walked with me through this journey. And for my mom who has shown up after every birth and cared for my little ones as I rested. Thank you to such an amazing community. It truly does take a village.
By the time I arrived at the hospital for my formal induction I was already dilated to 6cm. At that point, my midwife said the next step was to break my water to get things moving. I wasn’t thrilled about this knowing it would intensify labor, but I understood. She said that my water was like a balloon and baby was not going to engage in my pelvis without breaking the water because he just kept bouncing off the pelvis. This made sense to me. So after breaking my water, I went into active labor with intense contractions. In hindsight it was kind of funny for my husband. Before we broke my water we realized I had forgotten something at the hotel and he was going to run back and get it. (It was only a mile away). Stephenia asked me if I wanted to wait for him to come back before we broke the water. I told her “no” thinking that we should get everything started because in my experience labor takes all day! So when my husband came back and found me naked, breathing heavy, laboring through intense contractions, he was a bit shocked to see the progress that had been made. The midwife and nurses had me changing positions every 10 minutes so labor didn’t feel as bad. At one point though, I felt like I had reached my max. I had no more strength in me and I told Stephenia, listen- “I can’t go on like this much more. I need an epidural.” She discouraged me from getting one but I quickly forgot because shortly after that I started pushing. Pushing was so much easier! And I was surprised that we were already pushing!!! This baby was big though so I pushed for two hours trying to get him out! It took everything I had. But I was so encouraged. I literally felt like I was running a marathon and the support around me was incredible. I had two people holding my legs up and another midwife giving me counter pressure in my pelvis. It was amazing. I was acutely aware that I could not hold my legs up on my own anymore. They ached. We’d been doing this for almost two hours. And I was also very much aware of the help that I was receiving by the counter pressure. When each contraction was about to start, I’d try to tell them because I was desperate for their help. Stephenia kept coaching me in my breathing, pushing, positioning, etc. And she was an incredible cheerleader! I felt like I had a cheering squad at a sporting match. I was so thankful. Towards the end, two doctors came in the room, and there were nurses and both midwives were also present. I could tell by my midwife’s encouragement to push that there was an urgent need to get the baby out or we’d be dealing with a c-section. I pushed with all my might with every contraction. Then finally, there was one last push and I felt relief. The head came out and so did his body. They handed him to me and I cried. I was exceedingly grateful. But I had zero strength left. I could barely muster the words, “please help” when they handed me my son. I was afraid I would drop him. I had no strength in my arms to even hold him. So they held him to my chest as he quieted down and began to nurse. And I then realized I couldn’t see straight either. I had broken blood vessels while pushing so I just wanted to keep my eyes closed. I was so relieved that it was all over! I don’t remember much about the next couple hours because I felt so limp. But I do remember when my nurse told me I needed to try and use the bathroom. I remember asking her if it was really necessary. I had zero desire to move. I just wanted to lay there. It felt so good to not move. But she insisted so she helped me up and she put me in a wheelchair. Then she told me we had to move rooms and I was not excited about that either. I just wanted to rest. But rules are rules in the hospital and she gave me my son to hold as she was about to wheel me down the hallway. That’s when I really saw him. I remember saying, “my son” and I cried so hard. My son! God gave me a son! I was elated, overjoyed and incredibly thankful. It was hard, but on that beautiful day in November, God helped me birth my son and I was exceedingly grateful!
In the days that followed, I would occasionally find myself staring at my son in amazement. You did it, Lord. With your strength, you helped me overcome my fear of childbirth. And I saw it come to fruition. And I had a son! I listened to the song, “Promises” by Maverick City Music on repeat.
Time and time again
You have proven
You'll do just what You said
Though the storms may come
And the winds may blow, I'll remain steadfast
And let my heart learn when You speak a word
It will come to pass
Great is Your faithfulness to me
Great is Your faithfulness to me
From the rising sun to the setting same
I will praise Your name
Great is Your faithfulness to me
I put my faith in Jesus
My anchor to the ground
My hope and firm foundation
He'll never let me down
The overall recovery from my third baby was so much easier than recovering from my c-sections. And that is saying a lot, because I still had some trouble. Sadly, while I was in the hospital, one of the nurses without realizing it moved an ice pack and ripped my stitches. It was excruciating pain and at that point it was not customary to re-stitch. But this set me back. For a solid week I could not sit down. I had to stand up or lay down. This proved to be a struggle to nurse my little one. This experience sent me crying out to God for help once again. And I am so thankful that God answers those prayers! I received so much help in those days after our son was born. I think we had almost a full month of meals. Every other day someone was bringing us food - and it was usually more than enough for one meal. We were so loved and cared for by our friends, family and church family.
I was acutely aware that we wouldn't have been able to do this alone.
I am so thankful for the church community that rallies around those who need support. I remember one Sunday I was feeling a bit overwhelmed and I walked into our small room for nursing mommas. I sat down in a comfy rocking chair and told God I needed help. Immediately after getting the words out of my mouth, a lady named Jess walked in the room who doesn’t have babies and I wondered why she'd be in the nursing moms room. Surprisingly, she came to talk to me. I didn’t know her super well at the time so I was a little surprised. She just flat out told me that she felt like God told her to come and ask me if I needed help. I couldn’t hold back my tears and I quietly sobbed a little as I said, yes. I wasn’t even sure what I needed - but I knew I needed help. In the days to come, she showed up with meals, mopped my floors, read books to my girls and offered her encouragement. She truly encouraged me and more than anything else I was in awe of how the Lord answers our prayers with flesh on. He is so good I was so humbled by God’s tender care for me as his daughter.
I woke up one morning that next November and I felt so sick. What was happening? I was frustrated, I could barely function. Without much hesitation, I reached out to our community group from church. I asked if any of the ladies were free that day to help me with my kids. I felt so ill. Then I called my mom. As I described my symptoms, she looked at me via facetime and said,
“Melissa, those sound like diabetic symptoms. You need to get that checked out.”
Diabetic? Wait, I’m only a diabetic when I’m pregnant! I looked all over the house for a pregnancy test. I couldn’t find one. I ate some protein to help regulate my blood sugar and after a few hours, I mustered up all my energy to get three kids to walmart to get a test. Sure enough, it was positive. My friend Laura, whose children are grown, answered my plea for help and came over to help with my kids that day. She was the first person to find out we were expecting! I was so excited. FOUR KIDS?!?! I wasn’t expecting this. When I saw the positive test, I bowed my head, thanked God for this life and asked for help.
Circumstances had changed this time and I wasn’t able to go back to the same practice a couple hours away. I made an appointment at the University Hospital in our town knowing that they were the most vbac friendly place. As I parked my car for that first appointment, I remember feeling a peace that God would take care of me this time around. And furthermore, I felt like I was being sent to be an encouragement to those I met. I was thankful for this outlook, because without it, I would have been immediately frustrated. This place was unorganized. The wait times were sometimes hours and the level of care varied by the office staff. During the anatomy scan done at the second ultrasound, I found out that our baby’s brain had some holes in it. The ultrasound tech seemed totally unphased. She said it was on the early side to have an anatomy scan and that likely these holes would go away. She said they usually do. I asked her what these holes were a possible indicator of? She was hesitant to answer, but said they measure them just in case so they can keep an eye out since they are sometimes an indicator for Down syndrome. I understood.
I then met with the nurse practitioner and she explained the same thing, but was much more concerned. She asked if I wanted to speak with a genetic counselor. I declined. And she asked if I wanted to have genetic blood testing done. I declined that too. From what I understood, if our baby had Down’s syndrome, I wasn’t going to change one thing about our pregnancy. Then, while I was talking to the nurse practitioner, someone knocked on our door. It was the attending doctor. He wanted to know if I wanted to speak to a counselor and encouraged me to get the genetic blood test done. So, the NP came back in and asked me yet as again if I wanted these things done. No. I don’t. I was becoming more sure with each mention of the risk. I had a slight understanding that many genetic counseling discussions end with- do you want to abort this baby? And the thought of that infuriated me.
Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated with this practice, and I wanted to find another place. Surely, God wouldn’t want me there. So I looked around. I went to one practice and before even seeing the doctor I had zero peace. Then the doctor came in and told me that given my history of two c- sections they wouldn’t even let me try for a vaginal birth. She said if I did show up in labor, they would transfer me to the other hospital. All in all, the OB told me to go back to the University hospital. So I did. And as I did, I felt such a peace again. During this process, I reached out to Stephenia, the midwife who delivered Malachi and she said she’d help me again. I was thrilled. So we made a plan.
Given my history of big babies, both the OB and Stephenia felt that it was a good idea to induce at 39 weeks. However, this time, Stephania came to my house and helped me get into labor. On a Sunday night she checked me and I was 3cm dilated. She swept my membranes and we waited to see what would happen. I felt some cramping, but it eventually subsided. In the meantime, I got the best surprise! My sister flew across the country without me knowing to be there for my fourth baby! I was incredibly touched and thankful. The next morning I drank the midwives brew. I felt some cramping and some light contractions. We waited around and eventually I ate lunch. Around 12:30pm I started having contractions and at 1:00pm we prepared to head to the hospital. My water broke just as we were about to leave and the contractions then came with extreme intensity. My husband drove so fast and dropped us off at the front door. It was a long walk to labor and delivery. We found a wheelchair about halfway there. We blew through triage and were put in a room. About 20-30 minutes later, I felt the need to push. And Joshua was born at 2:31pm. He came so fast.
It was incredible! I couldn’t believe he was already here. I had so much energy and I was alert! “Yay! Thank God!” I cheered, over and over!
This birth felt so redemptive. So this is how it could be? No meds, no aftermath of the pain medicine and craziness! No catheters, etc. I was hardly swollen down there. Especially compared to the last birth! I was elated! My healing seemed to be coming right along.
I’ve been looking back at all my births because my midwife asked me to put into words my story. It’s been a journey. One that I’m happy to share. And one that I hope encourages others to trust Christ through the process. Even as I prepared for my fourth baby, I had some old fears creep in…
What if the pain is unbearable?
What if I end up with another c section?
What if I die?
But this time, I knew how to handle those fears. I spoke the truth of God’s word to myself. He won’t leave me or forsake me. I prayed. I told God my fears and I reminded myself that there is no fear in death when you’re in Christ. The only fear is the sin that causes death and separation from Christ. I meditated on this passage:
““O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”
1 Corinthians 15:55-58 ESV
I’m incredibly thankful to God for carrying me through and caring enough about me to set me free from fear. I’m so thankful to Stephenia for her passionate support of mommas wanting to give birth without fear. Without her expertise and care, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And I’m so so grateful for my husband who understood me and has walked with me through this journey. And for my mom who has shown up after every birth and cared for my little ones as I rested. Thank you to such an amazing community. It truly does take a village.
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