Evangeline’s birth story begins long before labor did, that’s for sure. It’s an emotional and spiritual story for me to tell and I’m not even sure how to do it or where to start. But just know, this is more than a birth story. {Disclaimer: this story is filled with all the details – especially spiritually and biologically – so if you don’t want to hear about Jesus and my cervix, please move right along}
When we got our positive pregnancy test in September of last year, I was elated! With my other pregnancies, having a person growing in my womb has brought me so much peace and so much connection with my Creator. As you probably know, we had just moved to Texas and bought our first house and we had gone through a very trying time, and I thought this pregnancy was a reminder that God had not forgotten us and our life was continuing as planned. As you also probably know, I have experienced postpartum depression and anxiety after some of the kids. But this pregnancy would be the first time I experienced depression during a pregnancy.
The Birth Plan
Since our homebirth experience with Ben was so wonderful, we had intended to go that route again. At 6 weeks, I began interviewing midwives and learned very quickly that I didn’t have a lot of options unless I wanted to drive into downtown Austin for prenatal appointments (which is about 45 minutes). Most of the interviews went well but for some reason I found myself defensive and in tears during them. I had exhausted my list, and I couldn’t make a decision. For 6 more weeks, I sat and thought and could not have peace, unlike choosing our previous midwife (we walked out of her office saying “she’s the one”). Scott thought maybe the unrest was due to our house. We have had major buyer’s remorse since our purchase and we’ve had no problem finding things we hated about it. We also were slowly purchasing furniture and making the home ours, but had yet to do our bedroom, so the thought of giving birth on my mattress on the floor, in a place where I wasn’t at peace, wasn’t appealing to me. I decided that I would just find an OB that our insurance covered and start my prenatal care and then I would transfer once I came to a decision.
I Googled “best OB for natural birth in Austin area” and the tremendous response was this practice run by an OB but also offering midwifery care. I quickly discovered that they were very natural birth minded, in fact, so much that they had their own free-standing birth center right across the street from one of the best natural birth friendly hospitals in the area (surprisingly Austin-area hospitals haven’t quite jumped on the “crunchy” bandwagon that Austin boasts). We also found out that our insurance covered this birth center, which would save us thousands of dollars versus paying cash for a home birth. After much deliberation, we decided that having a birth center birth was worth the savings, and the peace of mind, that we weren’t having with the home birth plan. We convinced the kids that they would still be able to attend, and then moved on with that plan.
I went about prenatal care with a very “let’s just get these appointments over with” attitude since the practice was run similar to an OB office (short visits in a doctor’s office), versus a home birth midwife (long personal visits in a comfortable environment). Thankfully, the office was very accepting of all of my preferences and I never had to argue for the freedom to make my own choices about prenatal care. Everything was going great, pregnancy wise, but I was still feeling a little depression and on top of it still coming to terms with our choice to not have a home birth.
I want to be sure to add this next part in, because I had someone tell me when I shared “Oh I’m glad to hear you feel like that sometimes, because it seems like you can handle anything!” So I want to be bold and honest about my struggles so that you can see that although it may seem like I walk through the fire faithfully, there’s a fair amount of push back in my attitude with God sometimes. I was experiencing some major birth anxiety. My births are not easy, and thinking back on them sometimes can be emotionally exhausting. I wondered why I was doing this again. I started hearing all the lies that society (and people) have told me about having a large family. “It’s too hard. Why can’t I be content with the 3 children I have? I must be crazy. How can I do it?” I started regretting this pregnancy. Then of course what followed was immense guilt that I was not anything but blessed by this child forming inside of me. I didn’t want to be pregnant; I didn’t want to give birth; I was just done. I contacted a friend of mine who I knew had hard home birth labors and who also struggled with anxiety over it at times. She encouraged me to go to the Lord with it, so I did.
I prayed and I wrote down scriptures to post to bring me peace. Scott and I read Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth together and we talked about how he could support me. I started to let go of my fears and get excited about the birth and what a special day it would be for our family.
Change of Plans
Around 28 weeks, I began to feel like something was off about the pregnancy. I couldn’t put my finger on it but I just knew something wasn’t right. I wondered if it was her position, as she felt much different than the other three. I mentioned it to a midwife at my next appointment but she assured me everything felt normal. My next visit, the midwife told me that she didn’t think she was feeling a head down position and we did a quick ultrasound and sure enough, I had a head in my rib cage. The midwife assured me that this was very normal in a 4th pregnancy and that she was absolutely sure the baby would flip by my next appointment, which would be 36 weeks. She gave me some Spinning Babies techniques to facilitate room for her to flip. I went home and laid upside down over an ironing board several times a day. I made sure to sit in my “optimal fetal positioning” spots and I tried ice packs and chiropractic and essential oils and lights and singing and all the things. There was just a feeling in my gut though, that she would not flip.
Doing a Spinning Babies position – ironing board on the couch
At my 36 week appointment, sure enough, she was still head up. The birth center would not facilitate a breech delivery and no OBs at the practice would do one in the hospital, so my choices were a c-section, or look all over immediately for a care provider that would. After research and prayer, Scott and I decided that we would choose a c-section. I mourned my birth center delivery and I tried to let go of my birth plan. I made peace with my c-section. Everyone I told had a similar reactions “Oh NO!” “I’ll pray she flips!” and my heart was thinking “It’s cool guys, this is her story.” I have never in my 20 years of following God experienced this peace that surpasses understanding, this overwhelming spiritual comfort.
They told me that if she was still breech at my 37 week visit they would schedule me for an external cephalic version, which means they would manually try to flip baby by pushing her around on top of my uterus. It’s a risky procedure and it’s not comfortable at all, and it is only successful about 40% of the time, so I struggled with whether or not I wanted to try it or just be okay with the c-section. Because of the spiritual peace I felt, I decided that I would go into the version expecting it wouldn’t work but just giving it a shot any way (after having gone through it and seeing the bill for it, I wish I had just gone with my gut and skipped it). After 1 hour of trying to move her, the OB finally said that she wasn’t going to flip and that her butt was firmly stuck in my pelvis. We scheduled a c-section for May 3rd.
Attempting the External Version {we’re laughing but it wasn’t as fun as it looks}
What I felt in my heart had come to pass and I was at peace with it. I was preparing for a c-section birth. We explained it to the kids, who were of course expecting to be at the birth {Matthew said “Um, if you have to have the surgery, can I have a babysitter because I do not want to see that!”}. We bought supplies for a long hospital stay, we researched ways to make the c-section as natural and gentle as possible, we picked a playlist that would allow anyone in the OR to hear our admiration for our Lord even in this situation that we did not choose.
Another change of plans
One Sunday evening, after having a very lazy day, the whole family was in bed doing laundry and watching a movie. I suddenly felt something different and I told Scott “Oh my gosh! I think I can feel her butt! Feel this… a head here and a butt here… right?!” He felt and agreed with me. I did some forward leaning inversions and then I couldn’t feel her any more.
Doing a forward leaning inversion to give her room to flip
I went to sleep and when I woke up I said “I can’t feel her head in my ribs any more… I don’t know what that means, I just know it’s different than it was”. I honestly was torn. It seemed like this is what I should want, but it wasn’t. I immediately went to back to feeling scared of doing the natural labor again. At my 38 week visit they confirmed she was in fact head down. Everyone kept saying “This is great news!” and “Praise the Lord” and “we’re so happy she flipped” and all I could think was “Good for you, but you’re not the one who has to go through the labor…” I felt abandoned by God and I was so confused about how He could give me so much peace and then change the plan again in an instant. I cried for days. I went to Him in prayer and I had a vision of Him and I, we were standing face to face, sort of floating, but His hands were on my face and mine on His and there was blurriness all over but my eyes were locked on His. I said “Lord, this peace! Why did you take it from me?” He said “I didn’t look away, you did.”
It immediately reminded me of Peter walking on water and I went to read that scripture and I realized that I had focused more on the circumstance for peace and when it changed, I moved my eyes off of Jesus. After that, I’ll admit it wasn’t easy but I tried, oh how I tried, to keep my mind focused on the Word and the Truth and not allow fear to make me sink again. Unfortunately, it got more difficult.
Trials
I started to get a round ligament pain, which was excruciating. Sometimes it just sort of burned a bit, sometimes it felt like a *snap* in my groin and I was brought to screaming out in pain. I tried everything I could to ease the pain but nothing worked. I had to sit around with an ice pack on my crotch every day. I could barely move. I cried out to God “Why are you giving me this to bear too?!”
In the midst of all this, they told me that I was GBS positive (a normal bacteria that women sometimes carry in their vaginal tract but would require IV antibiotics at birth to avoid the risk of spreading it to baby… it’s a very small risk, but a risk nonetheless). This was an inconvenience at best because I would have to be sure to get to the birth center at least 4 hours before I gave birth. I also prefer not to take antibiotics (I haven’t had them since my gallbladder surgery 6 years ago and my kids never have). If I declined the antibiotics, I would not be allowed to have the birth center birth and would have a mandatory 48 hour stay in the hospital.
The next thing was the kids all got sick. They woke up with red, gooey eyes and I thought for sure we had a pinkeye outbreak. The stress of thinking about what would happen if I went into labor with kids who had pinkeye made me a crazy person. I yelled at them to take the supplements I had. I yelled that they wouldn’t be able to see her born. I cried and cried at how much I did not want to do this any more. Again, the fear and lies of having 4 small children took over and I believed the world instead of the Word and I was crippled by anxiety and fear. I went to everyone of my appointments hoping they would say she flipped again and I could have my c-section but alas she was head down.
May 3rd came, and I cried and cried. I wanted the c-section. I wanted to be done with this.
Then I got sick. I woke up unable to swallow and I spent two days in bed feeling awful. I prayed I wouldn’t go into labor but at this point I was convinced God was going to make this as hard on me as possible. I flip flopped between anger and peace, trusting and doubting. I was so angry.
Waiting for Labor to Start
At 41 weeks, they started talking about my options if I went to 42 weeks. 42 weeks is considered post term, so I become “high risk”, and I wouldn’t be able to deliver at the birth center.
Of course, there are a million and one old wives tales about what might trigger labor, but after having 3 babies and being knowledgeable in how birth and bodies work, I knew that none of them are sure fire things, and a lot of them are uncomfortable and stressful. Because I was GBS positive they wouldn’t attempt anything that would spread infection, like membrane sweeps or breaking my water (which I was thankful for and would have declined any way). They gave me the options of having an outpatient foley bulb catheter (a balloon that goes into the cervix and fills up with saline to hopefully manually dilate the cervix to 3 cm) or castor oil (which basically gives you diarrhea hoping that stimulates the uterus to contract). Both have about a 50/50 chance of working. {And yes, we had sex and yes we tried nipple stimulation for oxytocin; but, in order for those things to be effective, they have to be pretty constant, and as fun as that might sound, it’s really not… especially knowing that when you’re done a tiny person is going to come out, wanting to suck on them}
Walked around IKEA at 41w 3d; lots of contractions, no baby
I decided to try acupuncture. I had one session and they told me I needed to come back twice a day for it to work quickly and effectively. While I was sitting in the chair with 100 needles sticking out of my body, I prayed and I kinda felt this nagging question like “are you really trusting God by trying to control this or can you just let go and let God decide?” At that point, I decided that God was sovereign over my body and over human deadlines. He knew that if I didn’t go into labor by Monday than I would have an induction. And He also knew that if He had to use pitocin and policies to get me to surrender to Him, He would.
I came home from that week’s appointment and told Scott I wanted to rest. I had a lot of ligament pain from being out and about and I had cried a bit at the appointment so I was exhausted. I was still coughing from the cold and every time I coughed I either peed my pants a little or pulled my ligament some more. I went straight to bed and laid down and suddenly had excruciating tooth pain. I did some at home treatments and fell asleep. First thing in the morning, I went to a dentist and he told me I needed a root canal. He asked if I could schedule it for that week and I said no, because I would be giving birth. So I left paying $45 co pay for nothing and praying God would keep that pain at bay until after she was born.
Selfie I sent Scott from the dentist chair “Well… I need a root canal. Awesome.”
At my 41-week-3-day appointment I declined their out-of-hospital induction attempts. I told Scott I wanted to spend the weekend having fun, being at peace, and trusting God, not trying a million uncomfortable things and stressing out. I was in enough pain I didn’t want to be having false labor on top of it. I told him to stop asking me if I felt contractions, I’d tell him if I was in labor. We didn’t do much with all the pain I was in, but we made sure to play a lot and spend family time together. We had spent the last few weeks trying to get out of the house, find things to do and make sure the kids weren’t getting too stressed out by all the changing of plans. Matthew was pretty bummed out that the birth center birth was off the table and although he was allowed to come to the hospital he chose not to because he said all the cords and stuff would scare him.
The Last Supper…as a family of 5
We were celebrating, although the kids were sad it meant No to the birth center
The Induction
Monday morning, May 22nd, I woke up 42 weeks pregnant, and knew I would be receiving a call soon to set up an induction plan. I showered and repacked all the bags. I set out stuff for the baby sitter. My phone rang and it was Michelle, the midwife on duty. She asked me to meet her at 11am and she would check my cervix and decide what to do. Scott and I made a list of specific prayers we wanted God to answer. For my cervix to be dilated and effaced quite a bit. For this induction to be quick, hopefully under 12 hours. For the kids to do okay sleeping without us. That if I did still need a c-section for her position, that we would find out sooner than later.
Just waiting… and waiting…
We got to the hospital and my cervix was “1, maybe 2 cm and still thick”. I actually yelled “Noooo!” First prayer, unanswered. She explained my options and all I wanted to do was go home and hope this would all just go away. The disappointment was defeating. I chose to have Cervadil, which is a cervical softener that is inserted vaginally and stays in for 12 hours. I honestly sort of misunderstood at the time and thought it was “maximum” 12 hours and that it was possible to be shorter, but that was not the case. They would come back and check me in 12 hours. In the meantime, I could lay there and do nothing. I cried. For hours. I cried to Scott, I cried to the nurse. I cried to the midwife. I didn’t want to wait 12 hours. I had kids at home. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted the c-section. She told me if I had the c-section I couldn’t go home. I said no, but Scott could. Then I would know they’re okay. And they could come here to visit. And this would be OVER. I was done.
Scott tried, bless his heart, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to play cards. I didn’t want to listen to music or watch TV. The babysitter told us that Ben didn’t nap and I was worried about bed time as they have never spent the night without us before. At 6pm, Scott decided to go home and check on the kids and get them to bed okay. I was having some contractions, which is normal when they’re messing with your cervix, so while I was alone I tried to focus on the contractions. I told my body to dilate. I asked her to come down. I promised her I would be a good mom, even though everything I’d thought over the past months had said the opposite. I apologized for not being excited about her. I begged God to make my contractions to be effective. I prayed for labor to start. I prayed for it to be over.
Scott came back to the hospital at 11pm, and at 12:30am the midwife came back in to do the 12 hour check. She checked me and said “Great! 3 cm.” I wanted to cry again but I didn’t even have the strength. She told me that my cervix was softened and 50% effaced and that was exactly what we wanted. She said that they would start the Pitocin now, very low, trying to mimic the body’s natural labor course. They would come in every 20-30 min and see how my contractions were and increase the Pitocin by 1 until my contractions became regular. She offered me a sleeping pill and told me it was best if I got some rest. I took the sleeping pill and at 1am they started the Pitocin (and the antibiotics for my GBS).
The Birth Part
I was having contractions in my sleep but I just assumed it was irregular, early labor stuff so I just kept tossing and turning. At 2am, I woke up and the contractions were intense. They didn’t seem regular, they seemed kind of erratic and I assumed it was just intense because of the Pitocin. I took a few contractions still in bed and noticed that the Pitocin was at a 4. I know that 4 is a very very low amount of Pitocin and I knew that this was just the beginning. I had decided earlier that I wanted to try to skip the epidural (I don’t like giving birth when I can’t feel what I’m doing) but if I got too tired I would have the epidural without guilt. I asked Scott to help me to go the bathroom. I had a couple of contractions on the toilet (my favorite place to labor, hurts like hell but really brings the baby down without a lot of physical effort on my part). Since I knew this was early labor, I tried hard to keep my mind under control and focus on the purpose of the contractions and not the intensity. I kept my face relaxed. I groaned low and open. I thought about her moving down.
The nurse must have noticed I was off the fetal monitor and came in. She heard me having contractions in the bathroom and asked if I wanted her to call the midwife. I said yes because I was planning to hear 4cm and request an epidural. She asked if I was feeling pressure and I said yes.
I got off the toilet and asked Scott to bring me my ball. As I was getting on my ball, my hospital gown and the fetal monitor cords were getting all tangled and I was getting frustrated with it all so I ripped the gown off and continued to labor in just my bra. I tried to sit on the ball but it hurt too bad to sit so I tried one leaning over Scott. I remember say “No, that’s no good” and I fell to my knees and leaned over the bed. I had a big contraction and peed all over the floor, which was a huge mess because it’s linoleum. I apologized and had another contraction. More pee. The nurse asked if it was my water, I said I didn’t think so. I had another contraction and then looked up and the midwife was across the bed from me looking at my face. She said “Are you pushing?”
I had felt some definite pushing sensations but I honestly thought I was delusional because there was NO way I was pushing, just two hours after being told I was 3cm. I said “I think so. I think my water broke. Or I peed. I’m not sure.” I had another big contraction and yelled “She’s crowning!”
The midwife walked around the side of the bed and calmly said “Oh, your water is still intact!” Scott got the phone and filmed the next part, which if I hadn’t seen the time stamp saying 1:40 I would never have believed it truly happened that fast. My body took over and I kept pushing. The midwife told me one more big push and as Evangeline was born, fully in the caul, I felt that sudden relief of being done. As soon as her feet were out, the bag of waters broke with a huge splash. I had one tiny little pad they threw under me, but other that that, I sat on the hospital floor and held my baby to my chest. I looked at the midwife and the exact words that came out of my mouth were “Holy hell.” She laughed and said “let’s get you off the floor”.
Just after giving birth on the floor
After Matthew, Charlotte and Ben, I honestly didn’t think there were many other ways to be born.
But with just an hour of active labor, minutes of pushing; born in a rush, on the floor, in the caul (which is 1 in 80,000 babies, by the way), well, Evangeline sure made her impression.
Evangeline Ann
Evangeline means “bearer of Good News” and I’m just positive that she has a special calling on her life. I can’t imagine the joy she will bring to our family over the years, but she will never fully comprehend how her life had already made me surrender and trust God and His goodness more than I ever have. I am digging here for something awesomely spiritual to say that will bring this whole thing together, but honestly I just don’t have it yet. I know that God is good, all the time. And I know that while I suffered, His plan was greater than all of that. I don’t know why we went through such emotional turmoil this pregnancy, but I do know that I have a Creator who loves me and who gave me this sweet girl to be her mother, which is an amazing privilege and calling. When I was praying for a verse for Evangeline, I came to Isaiah 61:1
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners
And if that isn’t good news, I just don’t know what is.
Evangeline Ann, born May 23rd, 2017; 9 lbs 12 oz, and 22” long
Our precious girl; our whole family prayed for you, waited for you and is already blessed by you. We cannot wait to see who you become and how much GOOD NEWS you bring to us and others who know you.
She has no idea how much these 3 love her. The first thing they said when she was born was “Thank you so much Mommy!”
Celebrating her birth day with a cupcake in the hospital