Finally, Time to Push
I assumed a comfortable (that term is relative) position in
the birthing tub and waited for the next contraction. As it washed over me, I
bore down into it just to the point of comfort. That’s what we had been taught
in Bradley Classes and had worked before in our other births. I felt pressure
and knew that was a good thing.
That contraction passed, and our midwife decided to get
heart tones again. As she placed the probe on my belly, I breathed deep
preparing myself for the next contraction. Lub
dub, lub dub. My ears couldn’t escape the incredibly slow rate of the
heartbeat of our little boy. I took a deep breath willing that the rate
increase. It didn’t. My midwife assured me that it was just his descent through
my pelvis and didn’t seem too worried.
The next contraction started to build, and I inhaled before
bearing down again. I felt the familiar burn as his head came lower. I opened
my eyes and caught my breath about to push again, when I noticed a bright red
gush of blood. (Being a nurse, my brain immediately went into diagnosis mode.)
I knew I hadn’t torn since he was not yet crowning. The only other probability
of that kind of bleeding was that his placenta had detached as I was pushing. Suddenly,
I realized that our little boy still inside me was no longer receiving oxygen
from my body. The only way to help him at this point was to get him out and get
him out fast!
Pushing Through
I didn’t even wait for the next contraction before starting
to push again. His head descended and began to crown. The pressure, the
burning! Guttural instinct made me want to wince and hold back. It hurt so bad!
But I knew in this moment, the best way to protect my child was to push into
that pain, no matter the cost to myself. I took another breath and began to
roar like a mamma grizzly as I pushed into all of that pressure. My body
stretching, burning, aching. I was scared, but I knew that in this moment,
courage must overcome that fear. Bravery must prevail.
The worship music that I had playing provided encouragement for
me to grasp as I let out a gasp and pushed again. Finally, his head emerged.
The midwife was now instructing me to continue pushing to release his shoulders
and abdomen. I heard the intensity in her tone and knew I could not rest just
yet. Another breath, and this push took everything I had. His shoulders corkscrewed
and released, and he slipped into my husbands waiting hands. The midwife helped
to untangle a tight cord around his neck before I was able to lift him out of
the water and bring him close.
Is He Okay?
When he emerged, he did not gasp, he did not grunt. He was
blue, flaccid, and floppy. We immediately started rubbing his back, stimulating
his little body for some sort of response. The midwife felt his cord, and his
heart rate was present, but low. Panic rose in my chest. Had I done enough? Was
he going to be okay? I wanted to cry, but the time was not right. We needed to get
him breathing. The midwife started to pull out her resuscitation equipment. Another
few seconds passed and then a mew, a grunt, a grimace. We were getting a
response. That first cry allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. His tone and
his color were improving. He was going to be okay!
My son is now five-days-old and is doing well. It has taken
me a while to process through this birth experience – so different from all of
my others, and not exactly what I expected or dreamed for our last birth, but as I’ve prayed and thought through
the painful and fearful aspects of this birth, I’ve come to realize that the
decision I was faced with that day is a decision that I’m faced with many days
of my life.
When something hurts me, I have a choice to push into that
pain in strength and courage or retreat in fear and self-preservation.
The Choices We Face
We all face these choices. The pain we encounter isn’t
always physical like the pain of childbirth. Sometimes it’s the wounds from
words or actions of a spouse, a parent, a close friend. It might be a disappointment
of a dream unfulfilled – an engagement or marriage that falls through, the
dream house that couldn’t be financed, the job that you were let go from, the
empty arms when you long for a child. Maybe it's the pregnancy that was not in your plans or you're facing a chronic disease that
does cause physical pain, fears, and so many unknowns. It could be you've lost a loved one, and the thought of continuing alone is terrifying. Or maybe it's an upcoming
opportunity that is causing nervous fear that you might fail – a talent show, a
job interview, a promotional venture, or a big move.
In each place that we are confronted with pain and fear, we
are also met with a choice: to push into or run away from.
I don’t like to presume the worst, but in the case of the
birth of our son, had I not risen to that challenge and pushed through the
pain, he very well could have wound up brain injured due to lack of oxygenation.
Or worse, it may have resulted in his death. And my lack of pushing through
that pain in the moment would have caused tremendously more pain in the long
run. My holding back would have been more comfortable for me in the moment, but
it could have caused permanent pain on behalf of my son – or in my own heart had
I lost him.
So what do I do when we face these fearful and painful
circumstance and it’s easier to want to run?
Courage over Fear:
Realize Fear is About Me, Not Others
My desires to hold back my efforts in pushing were to facilitate
my own comfort. Had I given into fear, it would have been all about me. I loved
my son. I wanted what’s best for him. In order to push past the fear, I had to
get my eyes off myself and consider my son as more important that me (Phil.2:3-4).
Realize I’m Not Alone
One of the verses that continued to come up during my labor
and birth was Isaiah 41:10. “Do not fear for I am with you. Do not be afraid
for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you by my
righteous right hand.” It’s easy to give into fear when I think I’m all alone.
In those moments of pain, I had to grasp onto the faith that God promised he
would never leave me nor forsake me (Deut. 31:6). I could lean hard into him
when I was afraid knowing that I was not on my own.
Realize That the Outcome Does Not Stop at Me
When our son finally emerged from the water and into my
arms, I immediately faced fear again of whether I had done enough. I remember
as a teen and young adult, my dad would encourage me to work like it all
depended on me, but to trust like it all depended on God. Or my pastor would
state that God’s sovereignty does not undermine man’s responsibility.
As I’ve grown in my understanding of these exhortations, I’ve
realized that the truth of what they were saying was more balanced than I
initially understood. My trust in God doesn’t give me a right to be passive and
simply wait for him to move, and sometimes that’s the temptation. Okay, You’re God. If you’re in control, what
are you going to do to get me out of this? But had I taken that approach in
the birth of my son, he would have been oxygen starved much longer than he was.
I had to work. I had to put in effort even though it hurt. Then, I had to trust
God with the results.
When I work hard, and push into the pain in strength and
courage rather than running away in fear, the results may not always turn out
perfectly. Sometimes, I may walk away feeling like a failure. Many times, I may
have more questions than answers. The friendship may never blossom again. The
disease may take over and take my independence away and suck the life out of
me. The job may fall through.
But if I don’t try, if I don’t take a stand in courage, if I’m
unwilling to push through the pain, I may never know the joy of the new life it
might bring about on the other side. Courage over fear, my friends. Courage
over fear!
“Have I not commanded you to be strong and courageous? Do
not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you
go.” Joshua 1:9
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