Saturday, October 5, 2013

Falling in Love: The Story of Your Birth

As part of our 31 Days of Fall, we'll be falling in love on Saturdays this month. Our first story is about the birth of P, our super special bundle of joy, and how I fell in love with him . This is not a method birth story, so no contractions or episiotomies, (but we love to hear about those from you strong mommas out there!) but more of a love story. Feel free to share links to your own birth stories in the comments-- I would love to hear about your experiences!
birth story, PCOS, polycystic ovarian syndrome, insulin resistance, progesterone, faith, prayer language, miracle baby, baby dust, ob/gyn

A Little About PCOS

I'm thrilled to be sharing my birth story for my first child. I was first inspired to write this when I read this excellent post, and then excited to share it @ Intentional By Grace.

At the age of 18, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and later with Insulin Resistance. Many women with these conditions have difficulty conceiving and maintaining healthy pregnancies.

One of the problems women with PCOS face is a progesterone deficiency. Progesterone is a hormone your body produces naturally. It increases rapidly during the first trimester, then drops off. Because women with PCOS often do not produce an adequate level of progesterone naturally, they often miscarry early in pregnancy.

If you know someone who has struggled with early-term miscarriages, please refer them to The PCOS Foundation.

A Love Letter to P

I wanted you from the time I held my first baby doll; I wanted you. Deeply, in my soul, was a desire to create you and love you and nurture you. God put that desire in my heart. God put my longing for you in my heart so that I would bring wonderful you into this world for His plans.

One day, when I was a lowly intern working for Child Protective Services in Gadsden, Alabama, a beautiful lady named Betty listened to my fears that I would never get married and have you. She told me that God had put that desire in my heart, and that He would never have put it there, without having a perfect plan to fulfill that desire.

I held that whispered truth in my heart, until I heard the Next Whispered Truth. Your father and I had met already, but that is another story for another time. I was sitting in the balcony of the church that Daddy was pastoring when we met, watching him play with children. I heard the Next Truth not with my ears, but with my heart. “You will have his children one day,” was clear like a bell, and warm like pajama pants. I knew it was true; I knew it was God's own secret promise to me... to be revealed in His perfect timing.

Daddy & I got married, and I wondered when you would come. Sometimes, mommies have problems waiting for their babies. Sometimes, mommies wait a long time, and we cry and pray, because we have that God-authored desire within us. When you are older, you will understand this more. I will tell you the story of Hannah and how she longed for Samuel, her baby boy. You will begin to understand.

The truth is, Mommy was afraid of waiting like Hannah. Mommy was afraid that she might have to hurt and cry, and that was scary for me. See Mommy has some things about her organs that are different... and other women like Mommy have had to wait for babies because their organs are different. Nana Jejo and Granmother were afraid, too, but they didn't tell me until later. But guess what? God didn't make us wait. He sent you!

I thought you were there, growing in my belly. I had an inkling, and I told Daddy one Sunday morning. He was making your Kenzie some pancakes. He said, “Okay, I have to go make pancakes.” You may notice Mommy talks a lot more than Daddy... this is because Daddies like to think about things while they make breakfast.

Sure enough, we went to a doctor, and she told us you were there, growing away, right in Mommy's belly. I was very happy (but also still a little scared, you know, because of that thing with my different organs). So I talked to the doctor about that, and she said she would test Mommy and see.

Later, the doctor's nurse called. They said that something was wrong, and they wanted to do an ultrasound, which is a fancy way of saying they wanted to take your picture. So Daddy and I went and got your picture taken, and they couldn't find you. Mommy sat in a huge waiting room, watching all the beautiful Mommas with big, pregnant bellies, and brand new Mommas with tiny, sleeping bundles of perfection and wanted to yell. I was hurting, and mad, and grief-stricken, and I wanted to know why in world they didn't have a “Your Body Doesn't Work Right, So Sit In Here” waiting room.

The doctor told Mommy that you would not be born. She told Mommy that this was okay, that it happens a lot, and that Mommy could try again to have another baby. Andma was there. She watched me smile and ask very intelligent questions to the doctor. She watched me thank the doctor politely, and watched me hold it together as the lab technician stuck my arm to draw out blood. She walked with me to the car, where she put her arms around me, and with tears in her eyes, explained to me, “You can understand this all scientifically and medically, but it's okay for it to hurt.” Mommy cried-- a lot. Mommy cried most of the way home.

A few days later, another nurse called. She said, “We reviewed your blood work. Your progesterone has doubled own its own. Dr. [name withheld] is on vacation, but we had another doctor that works with us look at it, and she wants to prescribe you this.” God sent our first doctor on vacation, P! Mommy went to get the medicine that the second doctor wanted me take, but I had to wait. The pharmacy couldn't fill it until the next day. Mommy was scared again... what if something happened to you in the meantime? How could I wait 24 hours? When would could I get off this jubilant/despairing rollercoaster?

Listen closely, child, to the next part. I drove home. I prayed hard. I told God that I was afraid my body couldn't hold you, couldn't keep you safe-- so I asked God to hold you for me. I prayed—silently, out loud-- until I reached a certain stop sign. I sat at that stop sign (I will take you there someday), and said, “I don't know what else to say.” Then something different happened. Mommy opened her mouth, and something different came out. A prayer language, little one, was being spoken for you. The Holy Spirit was speaking to God the Father for us-- for me and you.

Fast-forward, about 8 months. Mommy and Aunt Charity are looking a new picture of you. We think your fist is by your face. The ultrasound technician says no, that's your foot. Mommy is only 5'2”. There was no where else for you to grow! We decided to meet you the next day.

Mommy and Daddy were in the room when you cried for the first time. Daddy says my face lit up, and hasn't looked the same since. Daddy held you first. There's a picture of Kenzie holding you with the same look that Daddy had. I've shown it to you probably 100 times by now.

When babies are growing in their mommies, they are in a big bubble filled with a special kind of water. The doctors who delivered you said that you and I had more special water than they had ever seen. Nana called this the evidence that God was holding you, like Mommy prayed for.

You are an absolute blessing from God. You were prayed for and planned for and loved beyond measure. No one can bring to the world or to others what God has planned to do through you. My prayers for you never stop.

We all love you, beautiful boy!

Love, Mommy
Shared with The Purposeful Mom