When you are 19 days overdue with your ninth baby, having had contractions on and off for weeks, it’s hard to know (or maybe just to believe) when you are finally in labor.  But after intense prayer on Sunday, at around 2 am, those unmistakable contractions began and remained, confirming that I would not, after all, remain pregnant for the rest of my life.

Aaron and I, so excited to be facing “the day”, got up, brewed coffee and red raspberry tea and read some Psalms together.

After about five hours, we decided to head to the hospital, just because the contractions were getting much stronger, though still around 6 minutes apart.

And as my history goes, once in the car, they spread out again. But once we arrived at the hospital and I started walking, they resumed.

My brother and his wife had come to visit from CO, thinking by the first of April I would have recovered from having my baby Instead, they rode with us to the hospital and got to share Jax’s entrance with us!

My two aunts had also come with my mother (he was so anticipated!) so we had quite a room full of people for a little while.

I had already decided that I wanted an epidural, but I wanted it later in labor so as not to risk stalling things.  I was 5 cm and contractions getting stronger when I arrived at the hospital and I labored until I was 8 cm and then asked for the epi.

The doctor asked me if he could break my water because of the high risk of meconium since I was so overdue.  I allowed it because that was a concern of mine too.  All was clear.

The epi only worked on one side, so I later got a boost.  The boost was wonderful except that when they asked me to push I started laughing….”I can’t push.”  So I performed what I could only tell was the act of squeezing my eyes shut really tight, but somehow I was pushing just fine.

Three pushes and that 9 lb. 12 oz boy was out!

Witnesses to the birth all agreed that after my natural birth with Ellia I was much “happier” and was able to enjoy the baby more this time right after he was born.  I realize that is probably not the norm, and I want to emphasize that I hold natural birth in high regard, it just wasn’t for me this time.

He was wide awake and bright eyed when they laid him on my chest and he even attempted to lift his head.  I was so impressed with the nurses that assisted me in that instead of insisting he lay under the warmer, they immediately brought him after his stats and told me to warm him “skin on skin”. The staff were very accommodating to all our requests and we did not encounter any opposition at all…an answer to prayer.

It was about an hour after his birth that I began to feel faint and told the nurse. She laid my bed down and I drank some Sprite.  It didn’t help. At this point they were bathing the baby and everyone else was just sort of talking and then I waved to get my mom’s attention….“I’m fainting and I just wanted y’all to know”.

She told the nurses and then they came to check my blood pressure when they found it had dropped to 60/30.  She didn’t announce that out loud, she just said, “OK, let me go get some other nurses.”

Two other nurses came in and the three of them began to massage pulverize my belly.  I would have thought the epidural would prevent me from feeling that but hands down, that procedure was worse than any labor pains I had that day.  It was at that point that I heard one whisper what my blood pressure was.

Aaron had ducked behind a curtain by then because he was getting sick, and my mom stood with me holding my hand.  It was a feeling of drifting away and I was so afraid I was not coming back.  I was trying to find the words/energy/concentration to call to Aaron and I couldn’t.  I remember praying…”Lord, please let them save me…Lord, if I die, please comfort my children….” I whispered once to my Mom, “I don’t want to go”. (My mom is still recovering )

Perhaps I wasn’t in quite as much danger as I felt, or at least not yet, but the feeling was all the same.  They finally got my blood pressure back up and I returned to a normal state of consciousness.

Without going into gory detail, apparently there was a great deal of “matter” that needed to be expelled that was preventing the cervix from “clamping down”.  Once that was solved, the bleeding stopped.

My friend teased me that since I didn’t go natural, I needed some drama, so there ya go.

All in all, a pretty easy and beautiful delivery.  Recovery has been quite different, probably a combination of the intense massage and the big baby, but I’ve got a fabulous servant-hearted husband and children who make it easy to rest.

The Lord has been so gracious, teaching me to wait on Him to trust in Him and to depend on Him when I can do nothing.  I praise Him with all my heart for showing forth His glory in every detail of this pregnancy and delivery, for bringing forth friends like you as well as in the flesh who have poured out love and encouragement.

I can’t say enough about my church family who is now showering us with food after our friend stayed for weeks and helped with the meals, cleaning and children.  The Body has truly come alive for us and revealed God’s heart in a way we will never forget.

(Thank you, Kathy, for the beautiful blanket–I think it becomes him!)

The birth went very well (I may share more details a little later if anyone cares to hear), though about an hour later, I began to hemorrhage and for the first time ever, I thought I was dying.  My blood pressure dropped to 60/30 and I felt like I was fading away…very scary.  So because of the intense uterine massage I had to have (by 3 nurses at one time), I am extremely sore and experiencing unusual levels of pain compared to my typical deliveries. But we are rejoicing that the Lord kept me here and I’m so thankful to be on this side of delivery, cuddling this sweet little (“little” being a relative term ) boy in my arms.

I cannot begin to thank you all for your prayers, love and concern you have expressed to me through these last few weeks.  There were days when the knowledge of your prayers were all-sustaining as I battled with fear and a host of other challenges, waiting on this little fellow to arrive.  I am so grateful for you all.

As a fun side note, throughout my pregnancy my husband joked about “how fun it would be to have a male version of Mallie”.  Take a look at these photos:

Left picture is Mallie…

Jax is on the right!

“Powerful Warrior, Defender”

9 pounds 12 ounces

21 1/2 inches

Updates by Kathy

She won’t let me post a picture. ;o) lol…

~Kathy

“We are expecting our seventh baby in about 2 weeks or less, so there is high excitement around here!  I thought I would take this time to do a small series on preparing for a new little one in the house, as well as some traditions we have developed over the years that make this a very special season.”

Read more…

Many of you wait in much deeper pain, with greater agony, with larger questions. Perhaps this poem I found comforting will bring comfort to you too.

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried.
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said, “Child, you must wait!”

“Wait?’, you say, wait!” my indignant relpy.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By FAITH I have asked, and am claiming your word.”

“My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to WAIT?

I’m needing a ‘yes,’ a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.”

“And Lord, you promised that if we believe
Weneed but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply!”

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
As my Master replied once again, “You must wait.”

So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting. . . for what?”

He seemed then to kneel and His eyes wept with mine,
And he tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead, and cause mountians to run.

All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want . . but, you wouldn’t know ME.”

“You’d not know the depth of my love for each saint;
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint;

You’d not learn to see through the clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there;

You’d not know the joy of resting in me
When darkness and silence were all you could see.

“You’d never experience that fulness of love
As the peace of my Spirit descendslike a dove;

You’d know that I give and I save . . . (for a start),
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of my heart.”

“The glow of my comfort late into the night.
The faith that I give when you walk without sight,

The depth that’s beyond getting just what you asked
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST.”

“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’

Yes, your dreams for your loves ones overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss! If I lost what I’m doing in you!”

“So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
THAT THE GREATEST OF GIFTS IS TO GET TO KNOW ME,

And though oft may my answers is still but to WAIT.”
“And though oft’ My answers seem terribly late,

My most precious answer of all is still, “Wait.”

~Russell Kelfer~

In all honesty, this has been one of my greatest struggles with a pregnancy yet. Part of me knows that the truth is a “due date” is only an average between 4 weeks of what is considered normal delivery time. So technically, I’m not overdue yet, though I feel that way.

I am physically pretty miserable but it’s much harder emotionally waking up *still pregnant* day after day.  (I guess in the back of my mind I’m always hopeful that after this many children I’ll actually go a few days before my due date.) I periodically just break down sobbing, then pull myself together and start again. I went “over” two weeks with my first two, but this is the longest past my due date I’ve gone since those.

In addition, Ellia has the stomach virus.  This is her “love the baby” position. She raised my top and fell asleep on my belly after a rough night for both of us. (I hope this picture isn’t offensive; if it is, tell me, and I’ll remove it. It seemed so sweet to me.)

I am learning that I am certainly not in control and that all one can do is be at peace with God’s time table.  Easy to say, harder to live.

It feels like life has been on hold for weeks.

But despite the irrational notion that sweeps over me periodically where I fear I might be pregnant indefinitely, I know little one will come soon.

Also, God has revealed Himself in such a mighty way through all the comforting words, prayers and flood of love and care through friends from the blog world down to my closest ones.

In addition to friends who have already brought meals to us, a very special young lady begged us to come and stay until the baby is born so she could help out.  She has been here over a week already, (she’s staying until we return from the hospital).  She LOVES to cook (I call her a “food artist”) and delights in the meal preparations each day, entertains the children so I can rest, does what needs to be done, and just generally brings joy and a huge helping hand.

Bria works alongside her, of course…I can’t fail to give her due credit. Bria has been such a constant encouragement to me, full of joy and tenderness and service. But Olivia’s presence here takes so much of the load off and makes it more fun for Bria. (They are like a well-oiled machine together, and then they retreat in the afternoons, giggling with their cups of tea and favorite book or movie, to a quiet place to refresh.)

What a blessing to see the vision these two have!  To be happiest when they are serving! (I can’t even *make* Olivia go home for a break.) And what a beautiful thing as I watch them, along with my children, playing, laughing and eagerly serving our family, finding absolute joy in it, where so many would scoff that “it’s unfair”, or that a mother of many shouldn’t *have* to have help.

Beloved, this is what the body of Christ looks like in motion.

Until you’ve seen it, it’s hard to understand.  They’ve had more fun these few weeks, making special meals, baking cupcakes, having mud fights and sunny picnics and “soapy trampoline” time, anticipating with all the energy of children, the arrival of their baby brother.  It’s not the heavy drudgery some might imagine.

I just have to say “Kudos” to all my children and husband (please don’t think me bragging…I am just so humbly grateful) for their patience, their eagerness to do whatever they can to make me more comfortable, their hearts of gratitude, their infectious joy and smiles and all the wonder they bring to my life.  I feel ashamed, when I reflect on these blessings, to complain for one minute about this anxiety I’m feeling.

God has been so good to us!

By the way, unless something unforeseen happens, I will likely have time to post an “I’m in labor!” for you

“We are childless by choice”

I replayed the conversation.  I’m not supposed to even think anything of it. Children are now in the category of “option without stigma”. That is, it is politically incorrect to even suggest that parents *should* want children.  After all, we all have the choice.  Choice is King.

But something nags me…

And I realized what it was.

Before the socially acceptable option of choosing life, children were in a category of “spiritual, supernatural, miraculous”.

And rightly so. The Bible calls them a “heritage from the Lord”.  A heritage is an immaterial, intangible gift passed down.  It’s an inheritance the GIVER chooses and over which the GIVER has control.

But now that we are in control of this once supernatural gift, children have moved to a category of “possession”–things that can be acquired or not. And not just that, but possessions often seen as liabilities.

A possession is altogether different from a heritage.

A possession is temporal and usually measured by its immediate value. Decisions about acquiring possessions are mostly based on short-sighted variables and measured according to their benefit to the possessor.

A heritage can only be received, at the benevolence of the one giving. It is thought of in far-sighted terms.  Long-term vision causes us to covet a heritage, even if we must share our resources to maintain it in the present.

Our children, though plenty valuable even in the present (if only we could see it through all our distractions), are gifts only properly understood with a far-sightedness–inheritances that gain value over time.

We have lost our long-term vision.  And we have stopped seeing children as part of that vision.

I don’t think God ever meant for us to think of His heritage so flippantly, to refuse, altogether, the eternal gifts He would give in exchange for more vacations and a richer lifestyle.

He desires godly offspring.  He longs to give us a full, rich inheritance. Let’s not allow our short-sighted ability to control rob us of our heritage.

But we’re Americans and waiting is not something to which we are accustomed.

Want fries?  Three minutes.

Want popcorn?  Four minutes.

Want to see the earthquake in Japan?  One minute.

Want a tan?  Thirty minutes.

We are in control.  We want things and we want them fast.

So as I wait for a baby to come, the Lord gently reminds me that I am NOT in control.  He calls forth the young and I can’t flip it, press it, microwave it or order it.

I can only wait.  And the waiting reveals how impatient I am, how frustrated we can become when we are given all we want upon demand.

Photo courtesy of Olivia, taken at my baby shower.

So while I wait, I ponder.  And I praise Him for this little lesson where He delights to show me who is really in control. I turn my face upwards, smile, and exhale...”In your time, Lord.”

(Thank you, my brother, for this observation.)