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!
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
