The Birth of Evie Barnett, Part II
Laboring at the hospital with my amazing doula.
We called our doula and let her know the “real thing” was going down, and she told me to run a hot bath, light some candles, and labor in the tub at home. So I did, and it was amazing. It’s incredible how relaxing the hot water is, and how much easier it is to labor. I stayed there for a few hours, and then got out to labor on the birth ball. At this point it was around 1am. My best friend came over and blow dried my hair while I labored in bed, and Matt buzzed about getting our bags ready for the hospital. He was amazing. My doula arrived soon after, and we decided to head to the hospital at around 1:30am.
I labored in the backseat on the birth ball on the way to the hospital, and in the parking lot. That was pretty interesting. Thankfully there was no traffic, and we actually ended up being the only people in labor and delivery that night. At this point my contractions were pretty overwhelming, and I would go from moaning and wailing to staying completely silent, and just letting the pain wash over me. I was amazed that I was handling it. But I remember what I learned in my Bradley class about focusing on one contraction at a time, and my doula would count down the seconds until it was over. Matt was my #1 cheerleader.
When we arrived at the hospital, they checked me, and I was at 9 centimeters! I couldn’t believe it. I was so elated that I had made it that far, and figured I would be pushing within the next few hours. That was the best feeling. We checked in to the labor and delivery suite, and I continued to labor on the birth ball for a while. Matt was amazing- I would hang on to him and go through a contraction, and he would hold me up with his arms. He was my rock, as usual.
Labor continued to be super painful, so I decided to get in the shower and labor under the hot water again. This made it much better, but by this time I was reaching the point of complete exhaustion. I was falling asleep on the shower floor in between contractions. My doula told me that the number one enemy of natural labor isn’t pain, but exhaustion, and not having sleep going into it. This was true for me. When I was in the shower, I remember having this sinking feeling that something just wasn’t right. Things weren’t moving forward like they should. The doctor (who was on call- not my regular doc, but wonderful nonetheless!) broke my water, and then checked me a few hours later. I was still at 9 centimeters, and Evie was still at -2 station, not descending at all. Her head was slightly sideways, and just continued to hit against my cervix without being able to move into the birth canal.
By 7am, they decided to put me in the “pretzel” position to see if that would help move her into the right space. This turned out to make the pain completely unbearable. At this point I was beyond exhausted, and simply couldn’t stand it anymore. I begged for the epidural! I remember telling the anesthesiologist that if he didn’t get the medication in me before the next contraction he would be in trouble. 
To my surprise, my doctor actually tried to talk me out of it. For everything I had thought about doctors pushing drugs, my experience was just the opposite. She looked me in they eye and said, “Remember your birth plan- I just don’t want you to do anything you will regret later.” What an amazing lady! But at that point, I had simply had enough.
I must say… the epidural was quite lovely. Not only could I finally relax, but that was the most comfortable I had been not just in labor, but during pregnancy! In the last trimester it was really hard to get comfortable, but this was simply amazing. We all rested for about 3 hours as my contractions continued, and we monitored the baby’s progress.
By 12pm that day, unfortunately nothing had changed. I was still at 9cm, and she hadn’t budged. At this point they decided to give me Pitocin to strengthen my contractions, to see if that would help move things along. The only thing it did was stress the baby out, and make her heart rate go haywire. We held out as long as we could. I didn’t want to think that this might end up in the worst case I had ever imagined; a c-section. The doctor was so patient, and she told us that the baby would need to come out eventually, but that she wasn’t in danger, and we could take our time to process the situation.
Once it hit me, I began to cry. Hard. I couldn’t believe, after all this, that we had no other option. That nothing had changed. Matt and I had a moment alone. We cried together. It was a really beautiful moment- I asked him if he was disappointed in me, if he thought I should have tried harder. If I made the right decisions. Through tears, he told me that I was amazing and he was so proud of me. Those words wouldn’t have meant the same thing to me if I had achieved the smooth natural delivery that we had hoped for.
So at 1:30pm on Sunday, December 4th, I was wheeled into the operating room. At this point I just wanted to meet my daughter. Matt was scrubbed up and met me in the room. I wasn’t scared- I had mentally detached myself from what was actually happening, and was just focused on the baby. I was fully awake and alert the whole time. Matt was right by my side. We wrote a song for the baby called “Face to Face” and he played it on his phone during the surgery, and the moment she was born. It was absolutely beautiful. Needless to say, we were a mess of tears. I never imagined the amount of love I could have for another human being.
Our first family photo!
The Birth of Evangeline “Evie” Quinn Barnett, Part I
Our little daughter is here! It is amazing that she has finally arrived. We are settling into our new life here at home, and I now have a quiet moment to reflect on her birth and record some of these precious memories. Our pediatrician said something to me when we brought Evie in for her first appointment that I will never forget, and it is the overarching theme of our experience: “Babies write their own birth stories”. That couldn’t be more true for this little one.
There are many things that I didn’t know about pregnancy, but one that came as the biggest surprise to me is that the due date truly means nothing. This date that you hang your every hope upon can come and go without so much as a whimper. It can become just another day, and that is a strange feeling. Exactly one week before my due date, I began having what’s known as “prodromal labor”. I had very mild contractions for 24 hours that felt like the beginning of labor, but never progressed. Being awakened in the middle of the night with pain made it hard to sleep- that first night I simply sat in anticipation and excitement. I took the next few days off work to relax, and wrap my head around what was happening. There is nothing more frustrating than being in pain, and being told it is “false labor”. Nothing about it feels false. My doula told me to take a few Benadryl and get as much sleep as possible- that this was the beginning and I would need my rest. Two days later Matt and I did some of the typical “helpful” activities to bring on labor– ahem. Those included, among the obvious, eggplant parmesan, brisk mall walking, and acupuncture. I just knew we could help things along!
The following Friday evening, one day after the due date, I began to have pains again. We were watching Star Wars with our friends, (yes, you read that correctly), and I decided that this was definitely it. I went to take a long shower, and thought for sure I would be in full-on labor within the next few hours. Instead, I had mildly painful contractions all night, and into the next morning. By the following day I was so tired and frustrated. My doula told me to take another Benadryl and take a nap, but I couldn’t sleep. I called my best friend and asked her if we could go get some frozen yogurt, and she took me to get a pedicure as well. We asked the gentleman who was giving my pedicure to press really hard on the pressure points that induced labor. He must have done something right.
Matt came home later that evening, and I distinctly remember telling him that I was dreading the possibility of going into labor that night because I was so exhausted. Well, about five minutes later I did just that. I remember my doula telling me “you will know when it’s the real thing.” Now I understood. This was much more painful than my previous contractions. I looked at Matt and told him it was finally time. At this point, I think we were both so doubtful that it was actually happening, we didn’t really accept it until about an hour later when my contractions were coming much closer together. So, my journey into natural labor began on Saturday, December 3rd, two days after my due date, at 9pm.
Hope and Anticipation.
My child is due on December 1st. As I continue to think about this event, and what it is going to mean for me and my husband, I can’t help but notice that this week marks the beginning of the season of Advent. How fitting. I remember as a child, opening up the German Advent calendar that my mom bought when she lived in the Black Forest. I opened up a little door on the calendar each day to find a treat hidden inside. I loved the sense of excitement, counting down each day to when we would celebrate the arrival of the baby Jesus.
The word Advent means “coming” or “arrival.” The focus of the entire season is the celebration of the birth of Jesus the Christ in his First Advent, and the anticipation of the return of Christ the King in his Second Advent.
Advent is marked by a spirit of expectation, of anticipation, of preparation, of longing.
Wow. I can certainly relate. Those words describe my exact feelings over the past months. I cannot help but get excited when thinking about the arrival of this little one. It consumes my thoughts at times. I am waiting, in heavy anticipation. I cannot decide when she will come. I must simply wait, and prepare. But while I wait, I long. I long deeply to meet her, for the moment when I hold her to me, when the consummation of all the prayers, hopes and months of preparation come to their pinnacle. When she arrives.
I can only imagine how Mary felt.
Thus, Advent is far more than simply marking a 2,000 year old event in history. It is celebrating a truth about God, the revelation of God in Christ whereby all of creation might be reconciled to God. That is a process in which we now participate, and the consummation of which we anticipate.
How amazing. God sends His son, and He is born of a woman. A woman that I can relate to. A process that so many women experience, that is the only way of bringing life into this world. Such a humble, yet mighty act.
Giving Thanks
At Cross Point, my home church, we just completed a series called Better Days. Our pastor challenged us to think of three things every day that we were grateful for. I tried to tweet them as much as I remembered to, and the one thing that struck me was how hard it was for me to narrow it down to just three things. It’s amazing what this little “experiment” did for my understanding of how blessed my life really is. Even after a long, hard day that posed it’s share of difficulties, I could always identify at least three things that had a positive impact on me.
Yesterday, my pastor mentioned a few things about gratitude that are important to remember:
1) Gratitude is never invisible or silent. It must be expressed.
2) Gratitude begins where your sense of entitlement ends.
3) Grateful people can find a blessing or create a blessing in almost any situation.
Every moment is a gift. If we can see it that way, our outlook and ability to be thankful will drastically change.
So, this Thanksgiving week, I choose to be grateful. To view each moment, each relationship, each circumstance, as a gift.
I listed some things I am thankful for back in 2008, and I thought I would do that again this year. Try making a quick list yourself, and see what it does for your gratitude level this week. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
I’m Thankful…
For the sleepless nights, hip pain, heartburn, fatigue, and extra 30 pounds of weight on me. All of this means I am having a baby soon- something I have prayed and wished for, for so long. I know that many women would love to go through what I am experiencing now just to hold a little one in their arms.
For my job, a place where I can know that I am making a difference, and experience relationships with individuals who are very close to God’s heart.
For the way God is moving in my life this year, and constantly shaping me. His love and concern for me never ceases to amaze.
For relationships with family and friends that make me feel at home, content and loved. For those folks who challenge me to be better, do better.
For food. Always food.
