Up until I had Will, my biggest fear in life was childbirth. I remember worrying about it when I was a kid. Not only the physical pain, but the uncertainties and permanence of the decision to have a child. Would he be healthy? Would we belong on one of these Discovery Health shows because we had a baby with two heads? The amount of fear I had built up around having a child was enormous. So, needless to say, once I got pregnant, the journey to faith instead of fear over this anticipated event had begun. Looking back, I yet again see how the Lord truly does know everything we need, and He gently orchestrates the events in our lives to do just that: build our faith and demolish our fear.
Fairly early on the "trying to conceive" road, I was told I would have a hard time getting pregnant without medical intervention. I remember the day so clearly. The nurse left me a voicemail. I felt panicked, sickened, hopeless. This event that I had both anticipated and feared for so long, I at least wanted the Sovereign Lord to orchestrate in His timing and His way, and being told that I would have to get medical help didn't fit into that plan at all. So, Ryan and I went to the Duke Fertility specialist just to hear what he had to say. Dr. Price said he could put me on medicine that he believed would get me pregnant. We walked away that day without taking the prescription. Over that summer, we decided to pray about it and seek counsel. It was then that I persistently began asking the Lord to give us a son. By early fall, we both agreed it felt right to move forward. After two rounds of medicine, I was pregnant. The Sovereign Lord spared me from my other, related fear once the infertility monster reared its head: multiples. While many women who take this particular medication end up with multiple mature eggs (which could potentially lead to multiple births) , my scan showed that I only had one. That was Will.
Will won't enjoy hearing this when he's older, but we believe he was conceived in California. We went there for Christmas in 2011. People say I am crazy, but I could feel it that week: Something was different. Something had happened. My fears about not being able to get pregnant subsided a little that week. I just felt confident. We got home, and my confidence was confirmed by a pregnancy test and then sealed by bloodwork from the fertility clinic. We were pregnant. The Lord had done it. And He had increased my faith by putting a pot hole or two in road along the way. During my pregnancy, I could look back to those summer months that we waited and prayed for His guidance. I had confidence it was the Lord's will for me to be pregnant. It was in fact an answer to my prayers.
My pregnancy was full of the Lord's abundant grace. Nothing I feared came to pass. At every single appointment, my blood pressure, urine, and weight gain looked perfect. I was at a higher risk for gestational diabetes because of my infertility issues. When I was tested for GB, my numbers came back well below the line. No gestational diabetes. I was constantly in awe of how great things were going. I still am. It sounds like there's a "but then" coming, but there isn't. God's abundant mercy saw fit to give me an extremely healthy, normal pregnancy.
As if that wasn't enough, I must mention what was going on with mom at this time. Almost immediately after we found out I was pregnant, mom got put on Hospice care. The chemo had destroyed her blood and sent her for 5 nights to the hospital. Then the following treatment they tried gave her Shingles. The doctors said she couldn't receive more treatment. Her body was just too weak. I tried hard not to be stressed about this news because I was pregnant, and now I had someone besides myself to look out for. But, when your mother gets put on Hospice care and stops receiving treatment for her brain cancer, you're going to feel it. I did feel it. But the Lord kept my body and little Will safe through the intense bouts of emotion. We braced ourselves (again) for what we thought was for sure the beginning of mom's homecoming. However, what we didn't realize was that the Lord had a little tree in the shade for us to sit under for the next nine months. Miraculously, her cancer, even untreated, did not grow while I was pregnant. Mom and dad continued to receive the wonderful care from Hospice, and we sat in amazement of the Lord and enjoyed the time. By this point, because of the location of mom's tumor, she had stopped expressing herself verbally and emotionally. Still now as I write this, she doesn't talk much and she never smiles. But still, we all know that she knows what's going on, and she is okay. Mom had two MRIs while I was pregnant, and both came back Stable. No tumor growth. My gratitude to the Lord overflows. I was able to spend a lot of time with her while I was pregnant. Good, precious time. Work had let up for me because of my pregnancy, and I spent Thursdays with her. On the couch, eating snacks, watching TV, her sleeping, me working some. Good, precious time. Will was born in September (that story to come), and mom had a third MRI the next month, in October. The report this time was that the tumor had grown a little. Wow. My emotions were conflicted between overwhelming gratitude and sadness of course. Suffering mixed with the same amount of comfort, as He promises. "Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you." That soul command never applied to me as much as it did then.
Back to the pregnancy and Will's arrival. As the months began to pass, Ryan and I started praying more consistently and fervently about the delivery. It was the only way to distill my fears. We prayed in the evenings. We prayed over every cell in Will's body. Every organ. We prayed for a quick, uncomplicated delivery. We prayed for a knowledgeable, kind doctor. We prayed for no emergencies. The Lord gave me Scripture after Scripture that I kept in a little notebook and prayed and meditated on during my morning quiet times. So far in life, I can't recall a richer time in my relationship with the Lord than when I was pregnant with Will. He met me every morning in vivid, tangible ways. My soul was full. I clung to verses about the Lord's mercy and all of the promises He makes to those who fear Him: that the angel of the Lord encamps around them and delivers them; that He is their sanctuary; that His mercy extends to them and to generations after them; that their children are mighty in the land; that He is good to them and their children after them. I clung to the promise that the Lord's tender mercies are over all His works. I prayed to see His tender mercies on display during every part of the labor and delivery. Boy, did I.
Will was born on his due date, Saturday, September 15. The day before he came, I took a long walk in the neighborhood, and then that night, Ryan and I went out to eat at O'Charley's, then to look around Carter's, then to get frozen yogurt. At the yogurt place, I started to feel weird, so we hurried our yogurt and came home. I did not think for a minute that labor was starting, but indeed it was. We called the doctor on call at 9pm Friday night because I was bleeding. An hour later, the contractions started. We tried to go to bed, but that wasn't going to happen. My contractions quickly became 5 minutes apart. We called the doctor again. She said my contractions should be 5 minutes apart, and I shouldn't be able to walk or talk through them. Ryan and I walked the streets outside at 3am. We tried the couch; we tried walking again; we tried the couch again. I could tell that Dr. Beatty did not want me coming in to the hospital too soon, but I wanted to go! By the Lord's mercy, we made it until 8am Saturday morning at home. By then, I definitely could not walk or talk through the contractions. That was it. It was time to meet Dr. Beatty at Rex. Fear started rearing its head on the way there. Through tears I told Ryan I would not be able to bear it if they checked me and sent me home because I was not far along enough. If that happened, then I would not survive childbirth. When we got to the Rex parking lot, there was a front row spot. Tender mercies had begun. The Triage nurse, Liz, at Rex came to get us in the waiting room. "Susan, let's take you back and see what's going on." "What's going on is I'm in labor!" I thought to myself. I warned Liz that after she checked me, I was going to cry no matter the outcome: If she sent me home, I was going to lose it. And if she told me I was far enough along to stay, I was going to lose it. When she checked me, I was 5cm. I could stay. As promised, I cried from relief. Tender mercies. The first thing I asked for when we got to the room was the epidural. (I've never pretended to have a high pain tolerance.) About an hour later, I got it. Perfect relief. No spottiness. Wonderful. Tender mercies. My labor started to slow a little so they gave me drugs to speed it up. Thankfully, I didn't feel a thing, thanks to the epidural. Dr. Beatty came in the room and told me it was a slow weekend, and I was her only patient. I got her undivided attention. Tender mercies. The labor picked up, and by 1pm, it was time to push. Pushing was hard and went on for two hours, but we did it. Will's heart rate was fine the whole time. Dr. Beatty told me if anything started to happen with his heart rate, she could get him out, no problem, without a C-section. Tender mercies for my weary mind. Two hours after pushing, little Will was here. 3pm. On his due date. The moment I had been dreaming of and anticipating was here. They held him up, and he was perfect. They placed him on my chest just like he was. Tender, tender mercies.
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