Guest Post

A few weeks ago, I extended an invitation to my beautiful sister, Evelyn (who at the time was in the final week of her long and arduous pregnancy and has since given birth to a bouncing baby boy), to write as a guest here in my neck of the woods.  I was hoping to offer her some sort of distraction from the worries of her approaching labor and delivery.  I wonder if it helped?

Without further ado...

Have you ever been in a situation where you thought you would never move on and reach your destination? Maybe you have found yourself anxiously waiting in a traffic jam on the freeway. You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, look at the lane to the right for the tenth time to see if you could possibly merge and get moving. That is what the final weeks of pregnancy are like.


Just two weeks ago, I was in that traffic jam. Except my halt had my rear end planted on the couch, with a watch on my wrist, my feet tapping on the floor while I google 'symptoms of labor,' and my eyes anxiously peering out the window. What was I expecting to see? I don't know, maybe a stork?

I don't know how other women feel, but the last few weeks of pregnancy are torture. You might feel a minor contraction. You might even feel a whole bunch! However, when you go to that weekly doctor's appointment and learn that you have not progressed... well, that is frustrating, and sometimes even irritating.

So while that last week or two feel like an eternity, once the big 'D Day' (Delivery Day) arrives, what are the thoughts that run through your head? For me? Well, I feel slightly bi-polar. I will start out feeling excited, smiling, and laughing. Then, the memories come flooding in. The other two child births that I've been through replay in my mind. I begin to become anxious. I seriously wonder if I am going to be able to do it. But then I think about the after. The baby being placed on my belly, the laugh of relief and delight followed by the tears of joy as that baby takes its first breath and begins to cry. So the cycle goes.

Just one week ago, I was in this very situation. I had passed my due date, and I was so ready for my little guy to join my family. He wasn't terribly thrilled to come out, so the doctor had to induce labor. Things went smoothly for a while, up until the contractions were getting very strong. Of course, I didn't feel any of that pain, because I was dosed up with an epidural. I opted to get it early on in the process, and later on was grateful that I did. However, the baby was struggling with such strong contractions. Somehow, he found himself all wrapped up in the umbilical cord. Every time a contraction started, the cord would somehow kink. This would make the baby's heart rate drop drastically. The first time this happened, my doctor and the nurses rushed into my room to see what was going on. They adjusted a few things and watched the contractions and the baby's heart rate. It finally made its way back to a normal standing, but they stopped the IV med that was inducing my labor. Things calmed down for a while, which was good.

However, as soon as another contraction hit, the baby's heart rate plummeted. I picked up on it at once and couldn't help but worry. The nurses rushed back in and had to page my doctor. Within minutes, the doctor, the anesthesiologist, and a brigade of nurses were in there. They turned me in all kinds of directions and positions. The whole time I was to remain calm. I had to breath deeply in order to help the baby get enough oxygen. If I were to lose control, then it would make a bad situation worse.

The veil was thin that day. I know that I was able to force myself to remain calm only because I was not alone. Every time I would try to pray for help, I would feel myself breaking down. I felt like a little girl, who is scared and as soon as she calls for her daddy, she begins to cry. I found comfort in knowing that Heavenly Father knew what I was in need of. I didn't have to ask. He was there already, shouldering the brunt of the burden.

As the doctor calmly told me that the situation was not getting any better, I began to cry. I knew that the c-section was coming. I was scared and worried for my baby, and for myself. This was my worst fear from the beginning of the pregnancy. Now, I understand that c-sections happen all of the time. However, in the situation, with a baby who was struggling, it was a very frightening prospect.

The nurses wheeled my bed into the OR with my hind end in the air. Yes, in the air. I felt a bit like a cow. ha! Then the team prepped me for the operation, and Hoss was brought in with a mask, hat and sterile clothing on. He came and sat by my head. I was so glad that he was there. It took every ounce of my strength to not lose control. I could only focus on one spot on the ceiling, counting as I breathed. As soon as I heard the screams of my little baby, I was able to let my emotions go. I think that was one of the hardest things that I have had to do... remain calm when I was so overwhelmed, scared, and worried. I couldn't have done it alone. I am so very grateful that I was being watched over. I will never forget the feeling of added strength to press forward.

-Evelyn is a mother of three angelic children. To visit her blogs go here, or here.