This part of my story is difficult to share, because it so personal, and leaves me so vulnerable. I also hesitate to link the beauty and joy that is Elizabeth to the way that she came into the world. She is a gift straight from God, and I in no way intend to detract from that. I cannot dismiss this part, however, lest I miss what God could be teaching me or someone else through it.
Fear. That's the one word that characterized my pregnancy. It wasn't until I became pregnant a second time that I felt any fear that a miscarriage might happen again. But much to my dismay, I found myself deeply worried that something terrible would happen to this baby, too. I remember at about 4-5 months confiding in a dear friend and mentor at church my fears. And I remember her admonition that fear was not from the Lord. I am so thankful for her caring honesty. But as hard as I prayed, I could not shake the fear that had overtaken my life.
Elizabeth's Estimated Due Date was June 5th. We took the free childbirth classes offered to us, read the books we knew to read, listened to the advice of all. Her due date came and went, and my cervix remained unchanged. She did not drop, I did not dilate, my cervix did not soften. My doctor was much more patient than I was feeling. On June 19th, I was scheduled for an induction two weeks after her expected arrival. My mom and sister joined Josiah and I. I spent all day on a pitocin drip. I had a few contractions, but made no progress. That afternoon my doctor attempted to break my water, to no avail. He started talking about a possible c-section because of a potential "big baby". Around 5 o'clock, my water broke on it's own, and my contractions began in earnest. I don't remember how far apart they were, but I knew after a while that if it was going to get progressively worse, I would never make it to the end. Still fear was the word of the day. I was incredibly afraid of the pain that would come. If I could go back and change one thing, this is what I would change. I would tell myself that though I may be feeling pain, it was nothing to be afraid of.
An epidural was suggested and I agreed, heartily. This experience in and of itself is very fearful. The room was cleared of all but Josiah, the nurse and anesthesiologist. He started to go to work, and I concentrated on sitting very still, as I knew from the consent forms all the things things that could go wrong with such a large needle going in a very sensitive area. I felt pain with the insertion of the needle. More fear. The anesthesiologist did more things, asking me about the pain. I described it as best as I could, more on the right side than the left. As he pulled medical tape off my back, he asked me if I was allergic to it. I said no. He said, "You are now". My back was covered in hives.
As it turns out, the epidural was only partially effective, and only on one side--the left. It's hard to describe the surreal and drugged state I was experiencing. The nurse was concerned that I was still feeling pain and suggested we might need to try the epidural again. I was afraid, but at this point, I felt like I was on a runaway train. This time the epidural caused a rapid drop in blood pressure (later my doctor told me this was normal). All I knew was that something was terribly wrong--and said so--as my body moved up and down off the table involuntarily and I wretched. I thought I might die. My sister was afraid for me. I was given medicine to bring back up my blood pressure--this all happened a matter of moments.
I know that I was periodically checked for progress, but I'm not sure by who. I was so tired, and so drugged, the nurse suggested I try to sleep. I fell into a fitful sleep in a dimly lit room with lots of beeping LEDs. When I "awoke" I was told that they had seen some things on the heart monitor that had them concerned and the doctor had been called. He reviewed the monitor reading when he got there, and I was told, "We are going to have this baby". I was immediately prepped for a c-section. I think I cried, but I don't remember saying anything.
What I knew for sure was that my epidural was not sufficient for major surgery. I still felt much of the labor my body was experiencing. I wasn't sure how to tell them, but I just kept pushing that little button to deliver more drugs to my body, hoping I wouldn't have to speak up. As I laid on the operating table, I waited for it all to begin. It was about 3 am. I hoped my doctor had gotten some sleep. I felt them pinch me to test the effectiveness of the anesthesia, and told them I could feel it. Then they made the first incision. It felt like someone was drawing on me. I told them I could feel that, too. Then I was asked to make a choice. "We can keep going, or we can put you to sleep," someone said. "You are going to have to put me to sleep, because I can't go through this being able to feel that much." Josiah had to leave while they did that part. Fortunately I remembered how easy it had been at 5 years old having my tonsils removed. I felt God's mercy at that moment, knowing at least I would sleep through this nightmare.
I'm not sure when Josiah returned. I have no idea what Elizabeth looked like when she came out. I didn't hear the announcement of "It's a girl!" I didn't hold her or kiss her until much later.
When I woke I was in a strange place. It looked like the OR but much dimmer. There were instruments everywhere, but the only one with me was my nurse. Maybe Josiah was there--I don't remember. I just remember how surreal it felt, because when I had been put under, I was surrounded by so many people and bright lights, and now it was dark and quiet. Josiah stood to my left and held up a beautiful little bundle. He said softly, "We have an Elizabeth." "It's a girl?" I asked. "Yes", he said. My eyes couldn't focus and my head rolled around involuntarily on the propped up bed. "Help me", I said, alternating with, "She's beautiful". I kept repeating those phrases until Josiah gently held my head in place. We laughed about it later--my lack of physical control--but it was sad, really. I told the nurse she was my angel. She was very kind the whole time, and I felt like I had walked through the valley of the shadow of death.
The nurse asked me if I wanted to feed my baby. "I'll try", I said. She latched on beautifully. Another evidence of God's grace. After all that. She looked up at me with those perfect blue eyes and nursed like a champ.
No comments:
Post a Comment