Long before Sophie's birth and even before her pregnancy, I was wandering further and further away from God. I'd gotten lazy with all of the kids being in school, so I spent too much time sleeping instead of being a good steward, a good mother, and a good wife. I think the enemy has used my love of sleeping as a tool to lure me away from Bible studies, church, and other groups like MOPS, where I am encouraged in my walk. I stopped listening to Christian music for the most part and was lured away, once again, by secular music. It's an easy road to start down and before you know it, you haven't listen to a praise CD since the last VBS---a year ago. The lack of church, Bible study, prayer and Godly friends brought me to a place of bitterness and unhappiness. Top that off with four kids and rough pregnancy and you've got: One. Hot. Mess.
That was me in November of last year--pregnant, tired, and miserable. Then it got worse, but better. I'll explain. I'd gone to the doctor for my 34 week check up. I thought my blood pressure was high because my ankles were cankles and they'd never been that huge. My BP was 170/92. WOW! They sent me to labor and delivery and I was admitted later that day. I knew Sophie would be okay if she was born at this time, but I was scared for both of us. I was scared to lose her and scared for my other children and my husband to lose us both. The doctor ran more tests and determined I had severe preeclampsia and needed to deliver for the safety of us both.
The induction was S-L-O-W. Bodies aren't ready for delivery that early and don't care for it either. They pumped me full of magnesium in hopes to bring my BP down to a less-dangerous level and pitocin to get labor going. Finally after 24 hours of contractions, my water broke on its own. I was in horrible pain and asked the nurses to have the anesthesiologist to give me more "juju" in my epidural. The doctor checked my dilation and I'd gone from a 0 to a 6 in a half hour. More intense, excruciating pain. Now we're at a 9 and the nurses are holding my legs together because she's ready to come out.
I was pretty much delirious at this point from the pain and the Fentanyl I received while waiting for more juju. I can remember being calm, so calm. Not from drugs. Not from breathing exercises. It was ONLY from the presence of Christ. I tell you He was in the room. No, I didn't see him, but I know, without a smidgen of doubt, HE was in that room. Since labor had progressed as fast as lightning streaking across the Missouri sky, I was pushing just minutes later. Andrew was on my left and Jesus was at my right. Never before in my life have I felt the clear presence of Christ, but I knew he was there, beside me as I delivered. I cried out, "Jesus, I need you," before my last push because I didn't have the strength for pushing or more pain at that point.
Sophie came out perfect...wide awake, alert, and quiet. It scared me. I thought there was something wrong since she didn't cry. At 5 lb 3 oz, she was what her daddy dubbed a "little, bitty baby." They whisked her away to the NICU soon after and I didn't see her again for about 12 hours. When a wonderful, kind NICU nurse named Mindy brought her to see me the next day, I knew that this little, tiny, perfect baby had brought me back home.
Later that night when I could finally get out of bed. I showered and went to see her. This tiny, helpless baby lay beneath UV lights and heaters with wires and tubes attached to her. It was awful, terrifying, and scary, yet I knew she was and would be just fine. I picked her up and she started to fuss. I put her inside my shirt, so we were skin-to-skin and I sang "How Great is Our God." Sophie immediately quit crying and went right to sleep. The nurse said that's the most peaceful she'd been all day.
She never needed a breathing tube or IV feeding. She surpassed all of the doctors' expectations. I say, "she rocked the NICU so hard they kicked her out," at four weeks before they expected. Now, at nearly six months, Sophie weighs nearly 20 lbs, rolls over, sleeps through the night, and eats baby food. You can't tell she was early at all--except for she's a little small.
This entire experience brought me back to the Christian "walk" where Jesus is at my side, gently nudging me in the right direction. With my eyes on the cross, I'm moving closer to Him, rather than farther away. Every time I look at my precious baby girl I know, without a doubt, that part of the reason she's here is to remind me where I belong. I know He has great plans for her and I pray for an impactful, Godly life for her, but for today (and every day), she's my smiling, giggling, chubbalicious reminder of Christ's eternal forgiveness and pursuit of me.
I love this and I couldn't agree with you more about Christ helping me give birth. My children have also drove me closer to the Lord and for that we are so blessed to be their mothers! Even if it means tons of laundry. :)
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