Ford: A Birth Story

There is a journey of inner transformation that happens when we embark upon difficulty, challenge, and pain. It's why people return to places like the Camino, or choose to run marathons, summit mountains, cycle across the country. Innately, human instinct tells us that when we choose the thing that feels impossible, and enter into it with courage, there is a process we are taken through that breeds growth. Ultimately, life is about this kind of work - the kind that sees the mountain, climbs the mountain, and summits the mountain saying: "I can do hard things!"

Monday, May 18th was a pivotal day for me in this way. After my 40-hour laborious birth with Jack that ultimately led to a c-section, there was little hope instilled in me for attaining the birth dream I have always wanted. I had equated a lot of fear with birth due to my previous experience, and an overall feeling of failure and the mantra: "I don't have what it takes." In my third trimester with Baby Bro, I was encouraged to seek God and allow Him to do a work in me of letting go of fear. Each morning, I awoke with the prayer of my heart, choosing to believe God saw this desire and was going to give it to me. In the recesses of my imagination, I relived my birth with Jack and chose to write a different memory. I told myself that I will not believe the lies, I will not listen to the fear, I will not choose to feel that I failed... I will enter into this birth with courage and confidence. I felt God tangibly lift my heart and remind me that I am not alone. He prompted me to rely on my teammate and partner Ben to help carry me through labor. He physically brought me into a place of hope, healing, and redemption that I have desired to experience through my pregnancy and birth journey.

When my Dr told me on the Thursday before my planned c-section that I did not have a chance at a VBAC, I began to doubt the things I had heard from God. I settled into the reality that a repeat c-section was necessary and I had peace moving into that, alongside grieving the unmet desire of my heart. When we showed up at 5:30am that morning, something felt different. They put me on an IV and began to prep me for surgery, when the still voice of God was working in my heart. As they monitored my contractions, something stirred inside of me to ask about the possibility of a VBAC once again. A nurse encouraged me to advocate for myself. She checked me and found that I was 3.5cm dilated and the hope of a VBAC came rushing back. As the Dr listed all the possible ramifications and drawbacks, I had total peace in moving forward into this birth without focusing on what could go wrong, and instead visualizing my baby coming out into my arms.

The next 6.5 hours were a whirlwind. It started slow and calm. Ben and I listened to worship music, played cards, and prayed over our son. Between hopeful tears of excitement, we swayed and held hands and Ben spoke truth over me, telling me I was going to do it. From that moment forward - I entered in and accepted the contractions as they came. I learned not to fight them, but welcome them. The Dr broke my water, put me on pitocin, and helped me go from a 4cm to a 10cm in 30 minutes... at which point I turned into a side of myself I didn't know existed. After peeing on Ben (and the surrounding nurses), I scream cried for an epidural, then almost kissed the anesthesiologist on the mouth.

The room was filled with a thick layer of peace that only comes from the presence of God. Every contraction, Ben was beside me pulling me through it. He knew exactly what to say that allowed my heart to feel at ease - he told me they were prepping the baby warmer, bringing in the diapers... that the doctors and nurses believed I would be having the baby in that room -- and not be wheeled into an emergency c-section. With every push, I felt that I was partnering with the baby to come out. I told him I wanted to see his face, hear his cry, feel him on my chest. With the first push, the nurse told me he had dark hair and I visualized holding him in my arms. She even placed my hand so that I could feel his head - and I was shocked to know he was right there! An hour and 40 minutes later, the doctor came in and it was in that instant I finally knew it was happening. I couldn't stop saying: "I did it, I did it!" I did the thing I didn't think I had a chance at; I underwent the pain I never knew I could handle. I broke into a pile of thankful tears. He was coming out -- and there was no stopping now.

Holding my crying little baby on my chest was one of the most empowering and intimate experiences of my life. I will never forget seeing his face for the first time and kissing him and the overwhelming feeling of relief that he had arrived.

Our little Ford Noah. 

He will always remind me that God fulfills His Promises for us. He gives us the desires of our heart and guides us in unexpected ways.

Happy Due Date

May 15th... Happy due date little man! You and I, we did it. We made it to 40 weeks. There was a point in this pregnancy we didn't know if that would be possible, but we did it. My momma heart beats with pride already.

We found out 33 weeks ago you would be coming into the world. We didn't know you would be a boy and we can't wait for you to have a brother. Will you have red hair? Will you look like Jack? Will you be a sleeper??!

These are our last moments together like this. I am ready to meet you, but I also cherish this time.

Please remember.

I'll always be your first Home.

This Last Week

This morning while walking on the beach, feeling the kicks and rolls of our second son, I considered the truth of these last moments of knowing our little guy in this way. 

This is my last week of being his one true Home. I will always be his first Home, but in this life he will discover so many more.

These are the last hours of fully protecting him, providing for him, and sustaining him. The last week of my body fitting snug around his, enveloping his tiny little frame, and cuddling him tightly within the womb. 

These are the last few days of wondering in curiosity what he will look like, sound like, be like... before he becomes so much a part of our lives, it's as if I have already known these things all along.

The last time his little eyes are closed to the wonder of the universe before he is brought out of this cozy space created just for him and immersed into all the Unknown that lay ahead. Soon he will open his eyes for the first time to real light, he will breathe real air, and he will be grasped by real human touch. These are his first moments of awe with the simplicity of life, and surely will not be his last.

Birth is such a mystery in this way. A fully formed human curled one moment inside with all the lingering curiosities of the mother... already so familiar with the tiny movements and gestures, so aware of who he is becoming and intimately connected to him while growing him for 9 months; and yet we do not know each other.

There are so many things I don't know. As I birth my child, how will a new mother be birthed within me? In what ways will my identity change? What will it be like to give my heart fully to another human? Can I possibly love as much as I love now?

These things I know. We will always do our best to invite him into this universe of wonder. To help him know adventure. To guide him, shepherd him, and never assume we fully know him. We were designed to be this child's parents, and that is simply enough. In all my weaknesses and shortcomings, I am enough for you, little one. Come, come. We can't wait to meet you.