For those of you who know me or have been reading my blog a long time, this birth story may come as a surprise to you. But even though this birth experience was quite different than my most recent previous ones, it was beautiful and blessed.
During the last few weeks of pregnancy, I had two nights of "false labor". One night at 38 weeks I had strong, real contractions that convinced me I was going to go early for the first time. Then they just stopped. Then again at 39 weeks, I called people and warned them to be prepared that night. Again, they stopped. So last Sunday morning when I woke up at 6am with hard painful contractions 15 minutes apart, I didn't get my hopes up. Ok, I did get my hopes up. I got up and got everything ready to go. By 9am they were 10 minutes apart. I was starting to have to stop and breathe through them. But since they were still so far apart, I got myself and everyone ready for church and headed out. I went on to church and told family today was the day. But I realized the contractions didn't hurt anymore and were slowing down. Then by noon, they were gone. Again. I was so frustrated! All this work seemingly for nothing!
After church I brought my brood on home, fed them lunch, and then joined them on the couch to watch movies and rest. I had contractions here and there but by that point, I just didn't want to pay attention anymore. Around 5 or 6 pm I noticed they were picking back up and by the children's bedtime I was in real pain again. I went on about my business and got ready for bed myself. I read for a while and started timing my contractions and saw they were back to a steady 1o minutes apart. I finally turned off the light and decided to try to get some sleep, but every time I would drift off, the pain would grip me again. Somehow I endured many of them in a state of semi-consciousness as I drifted in and out of sleep, but that didn't last for long. I was suddenly in unbearable pain and panicked when I realized that these babies were 3-5 minutes apart! At around 2am I hurriedly called my friends who were watching my children and my mother-in-law to come and get me quick!
When we got to the hospital at about 3:15am my doctor was waiting for me. She must have known I needed relief because she asked me if we were still doing everything the way we discussed. My answer: "Forget it all. Give me my epidural as soon as possible."
I had been going back and forth in my mind about whether or not I still wanted the natural birth I had been fighting for. With my husband gone (he's been gone almost three weeks now), I didn't think I was mentally prepared to handle it. I finally decided that I would make my decision whenever the time came, and when the time came there was no decision to be made. I had pretty much been in labor for the past 18 hours and now with my body engulfed in pain after pain, I knew I needed it to be over.
I still endured another half hour or so before the anesthesiologist was ready. I was 7 cm. I was so nervous about the epidural. I had them with my first two babies and I really hated them. I hated the sensation of the needle going into my back, I hated the numbness in my legs, I hated not being able to feel anything to push, I hated being immobile for a while afterward. I was reminding God of all these things I hated while at the same time begging Him to please make it work quick!
They got it put in and maybe it was because I had 3 contractions in the process, but I hardly felt it at all. After it was in I laid back onto the bed and, oh my, where did all that pain go? I instantly began to feel relief. My biggest complaint was now that my left foot was numb! I waited for that awful heaviness to take over my body, but it never did. I could still move my legs and my whole body, yet I could feel no pain. By the time I got to 9cm, I felt so relaxed and wonderful I wanted to take a nap. As I was lying there enjoying my rest and relaxation, I could slowly feel the sensation of the baby moving down a little every minute or so until finally I could feel the pressure of his head. I let my doctor know that I was ready to push and she said go for it. She had told me before that she wouldn't coach me--that she believed it was best to push whenever I felt the need to do so. Amazing for a doctor, right?! This was the first time I have not been coached when to push and I was amazed that with this epidural I could feel everything, yet it was painless. I could feel everything so clearly that I could tell exactly what to do. I pushed a couple times and the bag of water broke and splashed out! (This was also the first time I had not had my water broken.) After my water broke, the sensation was more intense, maybe a little painful, but just enough to be just what I needed to get this job done. At 7:16am, after a couple more pushes, his little body slid out all at once! My doctor scooped him up and immediately laid him on my chest while she did everything else. He was so perfect! And he was so big! And he had hair!
After a few minutes they weighed and measured him: 8 pounds 14 ounces and 21 1/2 inches. That's almost 9 pounds!! Then they handed him back to me and he nursed like a little vacuum for 2 hours.
God has blessed me once again with a perfect birth and a perfect baby. I feel so undeserving. The past few days of being home with all my children have been full of the grace of God. It has been peaceful and joyful and an amazing blessing. Well-meaning people have asked me over and over, "Do you have help? Do you have help?" I know they just can't imagine being alone with six small children and a new baby. But, oh, I do have Help! I have all the Help I could ever need or want or ask for. "Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God." Ps. 146:5. Blessed indeed!
About his name
Early on when we were discussing names, my husband suggested Titus. I loved the name, but our last name is Thomas, and Titus Thomas was just too much of a tongue twister for me. But after that I just could not get that "Ty" sound out of my head. I went over every Ty name I could find. Once my husband said, "How about Tyson?" I said, "No! That's chicken! That's Mike Tyson!" But something about it stuck with me until I just had that feeling when I heard it, that that was "it". Tyson. It was suddenly so cute and endearing and I was in love with it.
Tyson means "firebrand". I had to look up that word in the dictionary, but it means, "a person who kindles strife or encourages unrest; an agitator; troublemaker. A person who stirs up trouble or kindles a revolt." When I first read that I thought, No way! I can't name my baby that! But as I thought about it in the context of a man on fire for Jesus, I got excited. A "firebrand" for Jesus is a whole other thing!
Jeremiah means "God will raise up". So put together, his name means "A firebrand God will raise up." Wow! Being given that name in these times is exciting for me! My prayer for Tyson Jeremiah is that he will grow to be a man on fire for the Lord, a man willing to kindle strife, encourage unrest, stir up trouble, or start a revolt in the name of Jesus Christ if he has to!
Tyson Jeremiah Thomas
8 lb. 14 oz. 21.5 in.
February 22, 2010
7:16 am
