The Advent of August

April, our midwife, came to visit with me on her due date for the baby. She was telling me what to expect and see how I was feeling about everything. I told how I would be ready after the 23rd. I didn’t want that to be the birth date.

In fact, a few months earlier after finding out the baby would be born in late January, I had secretly hoped in my heart, and in talking to God said that the 24th would be the day that I would like, (I have a thing for 4s) but I understand that babies aren’t always born on the numbers we like. As long as it wasn’t the 23rd I was cool and felt open-minded.

Of course, when the 23rd came along I was high strung most of the day. I felt like it would be very soon and knowing God has a sense of humor, I was doing my best to get the day to be done with fast! I remember not relaxing until nearly 10 that night, when I knew I was in the clear zone. In fact, I actually didn’t even sleep well.  I was awake when my husband’s alarm went off. I was feeling uncomfortable and before I know it I’m laying there and my eyes flash open because I felt something release and I think to myself, “Did I just pee? Was that my water breaking?” My waters have broken naturally, twice before, and this was a different sensation. It wasn’t a ‘pop’ like the others times, this felt like maybe I wet myself. How could I wet myself? I didn’t feel an urge. Then, as I was examining myself a puddle filled my hand, and I still decided to look it up on the internet. At this point it’s maybe 5:30 and my husband has left for San Antonio as he had an out of town meeting.

Our daughters were up and getting ready for school but we wanted them there to help with younger kids if I was to have the baby. I had also told both the girls they could be there when the baby came. I was having a hard time deciding to send them off to go meet the bus or not.

The internet advice was to put on a pad, lay down for an hour and see if the pad gets filled. Sure enough, this confirmed it!

I text the midwife, April, telling her my waters had broken but that it was a slow leak and that I was going back to sleep. I think I called my husband. He asked if I wanted him to come home and I told him he could “do whatever, but I’m having the baby today.” He cancelled work and started driving back home and I went back to bed, both girls came to snuggle me. I was having contractions every 40 minutes or so.

I put on my prayer/meditation/words of life video on YouTube that speaks over you. Like hypnobirthing, the Supernatural Childbirth encourages you that Jesus bought the pain for you, and you can have a supernatural experience. I had been believing that I could/would have a pain free labor. I knew it was a huge possibility as my labor with our 3rd, my son Samuel, was as close to a peaceful, easy, painless labor I experienced. It was a beautiful experience. I could only hope to block out my last labor experience with our 4th, my son RohnRiver, and focus on the possibility that I could have a beautiful experience again, but even better.

When my husband came home he made us all a late breakfast. At this point I was starting to freak out because I foolishly looked up online other women’s experiences with a slow leak waterbreak. It wasn’t looking good. Apparently this meant the labor would take several hours, possibly days! I immediately started having flashbacks, and believing the lie, that this labor would be scary, like the last time. I started to phyc myself out, by lunch, I was in tears. Peter certainly encouraged me when he came along to walk with me to speed up the contractions.

After walking our property several times we decided that he should go into town to get us something easy for dinner. The kids then joined me as I continued to grow more despondent. We walked and walked and it seemed to have no affect. I started to get down again. After returning, Peter walked with us some more in hopes to speeding up the contractions

They were there, but they weren’t nearly painful enough(in my estimation)and about five to six, an hour. That was pretty depressing to think of, 7 hours in. I think of my first 3 labors and deliveries, and they were all relatively quick. Was this going to be super hard, like last time? Again, I started to compare to the last labor, and again I allowed my peace to be taken away.

By dinner I was an emotional wreak. It looked like my baby wouldn’t be born on the 24th. It looked like my labor wouldn’t be quick.

When we sat down to eat at the table my contractions all but stopped. Making me even more unhappy. That’s when the midwife called. I told her what was going on, and she basically confirmed what I was thinking, agreed I should go to sleep and gave me encouragement when saying she would be surprised if baby wasn’t born by morning.

After dinner, I moped about, feeling sorry for myself with each low intense contraction. By 10 I took myself to bed leaving my husband to bedtime duty.

I registered him coming to bed sometime around 2am. I had slept most of the time with very few uncomfortable contractions. I remember after he came to bed I did not sleep. I looked at my phone and it was sometime after 2 and said to myself that I had 3 more hours. As Peter slept I had 2 – 3 contractions every hour. These were long and deep. I remember breathing through them and saying “perfect love casts out fear” over and over again, and telling myself that I was at peace. Around about 4 am, I began waking my husband to press on my back during a labor pain. I woke him up about three times. Each time I grew more and more agitated. Finally I got up to use the bathroom and- bang, bang, bang – I had around three contractions in a row. My husband, for the several-ith time that night, asked if we should call the midwife. I told him we could do it now and went to turn on the bath. When, bam, another one hit. I turned back to my husband and leaned on the bed making him help me. This one hurt bad and was long. I remember looking down at my phone and it was 4:59am.

My husband was talking to the midwife saying “she’s asking for you now” April said she would be there asap.

After the contraction I turned to the bath and got in. They were definitely more intense now.

Peter kneeled outside the tub and fiercely rubbed my lower back during each contraction. Finally, it became too intense for me and I parked myself on all fours in the hot bath. I began to want to push. But I didn’t try too hard, not knowing if I was fully dilated. Then before I knew it I was vomiting. I knew this meant I was in transition and that meant I was nearly done. I started to blow out my breath low and deep with each contraction feeling relief in the need to push.

I continued  that way for about five more contractions. My husband started to have to remind me to breath, still continuing with his job, he got up to look for his phone/call the midwife but I begged him not to stop reassuring me with his touch. I had put the shower head on while in the bath and it was falling on my back. The water had gone cold, but I wouldn’t allow Peter to turn it off, as it was such a relief. My wrists hurt intensely from holding their position for so long. I had maybe 4 more deep, low contractions but they began to intensify. I started to push harder. I was hurting and exhausted, I was barely hanging on to the edge of the tub, keeping myself together with each pain. I reach down to feel, and was disappointed when I didn’t notice an obvious human head sticking out of my vagina. Still, I pushed harder. Crying and feeling overwhelmed. It’s not coming through. I never push this long. Growling deeper with the pushes. I told my husband the baby would be there soon. I looked up and saw a wee bit of panic in his clear blue eyes.  My husband tried to get me to sit on the edge of tub seat to push, but it was awkward and I immediately got back down in the tub, praising the bit of weightlessness it provided. I began to feel faint. I held on to the edge of the tub and Peter held onto me. I pushed again. Peter reminds me to breath. I push again. I don’t know how I’m keeping myself up. I’m reminded to breath. I dig harder. I feel something give, this encourages me. I push again, harder. Yes, something is coming. I say “It’s coming!” I dig as hard as I can and I feel myself give way. I support myself on my knees, reach down, and pull up this baby. This baby who looks different then I’ve experienced; balled up and blue with white stuff.

I look at the baby’s face and the baby’s eyes are open and the baby’s mouth is open and the baby’s tongue is slightly out and that’s when I hear my husband’s alarmed voice saying “The cords wrapped around the neck. We both fumble with the baby, but without any slack on the cord I find myself being pulled along while simultaneously trying to pull the cord free from me, to release my baby as Peter races to untangle our infant. I hear my husband say, “It’s a little boy, we have a baby boy” as he handed him back to me. He was born with his hands up around his head and the cord wrapped once around his torso and once around his throat. I looked at him and he looked at me. He still hadn’t cried. I began talking to him and tickling his feet and he gave me a small, wee noise and I was satisfied.

I think I heard my husband say that the midwife just drove up, but I immediately told him to get the girls. I look down at my baby, relieved that it was over. In aw, in shock. Suddenly I see my firstborn’s face pop up after pulling aside the bath curtain and look in, next I see my second born both looking as I felt; in aw, in shock. Right behind them was the midwife. My husband says to April, “He was born at 5:45!”

One of the things on my list happened, just not in the way I planned. But my baby was born 45 mins after I called the midwife. And the delivery was exciting and unexpected for many, that also came true from my list.

I also forgot to add, that a few weeks prior, God had given me a dream that I was a midwife and that I handed/delivered my baby to myself. It came true!

Ps- God was also involved in his date of birth. Not only is it, historically, the day Texas formed her flag, it is also, Robert Burn’s birth date(a historically famous Scottish poet.

We named him August(to call him Gus, my dad’s name was Gusie, and he was influential on both myself and my husband(that was Peter’s idea) and Stirling, for as we were trying to find his name, I ended up watching a show about castles, and the episode on just happened to be the 5th episode, about Stirling castle in Scotland, the episode went on to described a visit by Robert Burns. We both agreed and liked it very much. August Stirling, our 5th child.