The Birth Of Hope

The story of Hope's Birth written by Kristen Keach:

“I have a verse for you!” Scott announced to me outside of church on Sunday morning, “but it is supposed to encourage you, ok?”

“Ok…” I say back to him, with hesitation on what is about to come out of his mouth. It sounded as if the verse he was about to give me was not typically encouraging.

“Well, it’s that verse from Romans… ‘Rejoice in your sufferings, because suffering produces patience, patience produces perseverance, and perseverance produces hope, and hope never disappoints.’”

I didn’t know at the time how telling that verse was. I never in a million years thought that would be the verse to completely encompass the journey we would be on for the next 3 days. The 60 hours that started that night at 11pm.

That afternoon I got a text from Jessica (one of my best friends, and doula) asking me if there was anything I felt Brandon and I should talk about before Hope was born. You see, I was already 3 days late and she had experienced with her son’s birth that there were some things her and her husband Jordan needed to talk through before the baby came. When they did, he came. That day after church, Brandon and I got in a bit of a “discussion”. So that night I asked if she and Jordan could pray for us for a little bit and during our conversation- I started feeling crampy. At the end of our conversation I told Jessica to sleep lightly because I felt as if I was starting to have mild contractions, and would be calling her to come over that night. It was 11pm.

To give you some history, when Brandon and I discussed having kids we had decided to go the natural route. At first, Brandon had some hesitations with safety and health risks, but after getting educated on the natural birthing process (e.g. midwife vs. doctor, birth center vs. hospital, etc.) we decided a birth center with a midwife was the option for us. During the 9 ½ months of pregnancy we filled our brains with knowledge from books, internet resources, and our Bradley class. We felt so prepared for the birth of this baby, and were completely excited and comfortable with the opportunity to have her in a safe and calm environment.

Around 11:15 I called our midwife who then told me to ignore the contractions until I couldn’t ignore them any longer. The thoughts of our baby being here by tomorrow night were filling my head, as I got into bed surprisingly calm. I kept thinking ‘she will definitely be here by tomorrow at 11pm because, really, who has a 24 hour labor?!’

That night contractions intensified to 5 minutes apart, lasting around 45 seconds and strong enough to need Brandon to put counter pressure on my back from 3 am on. We had learned in our Bradley class that the magic number was 5-1-1. You call your midwife when your contractions are 5 minutes apart, lasting for a minute, for an hour. Since we had not yet hit that, we got up Monday morning to go to our last check up that had been scheduled from the week before. We stopped at Starbucks to grab breakfast, and I got oatmeal and a decaf mocha. We learned that eating until you couldn’t eat was the best thing for your body during labor- so I tried to enjoy my breakfast in between contractions, which were much more difficult to bear in the car.

1-2 centimeters dilated, 90 % effaced +1 station. Things were looking good, I was just told to go home and rest as much as possible. I decided a combination of rest, walking, and baths were what made me the most comfortable. Brandon started taping encouraging bible verses all over the house so that no matter where I was having a contraction, I could look up and be comforted. By 8 pm Monday night, not much had changed. The thought of my baby being here that night, was slowly but surely fading away.

I asked Jessica to come over that evening because I knew Brandon was going to need rest, and at this point it was difficult (but possible) to go through my contractions alone. They switched off helping and massaging my back that night, with 1 hour that I let them both sleep and I contracted alone while walking around the house from 2-3 am. Around 3 in the morning I woke Jessica up because contracting alone was no longer bearable. My contractions were closer together (about 4 minutes apart) and lasting about a minute long. We were so encouraged early that morning going into the birth center to get checked. We thought for sure we would be admitted and I can finally get into that giant bath tub that promised pain relief.

At this point in time, my details get fuzzy. I quote this text message sent out to friends and family after being sent home from the birth center again. January 25, 2011 8:02am- “Contractions are steadily 4 min apart and a minute long. Much more intense. I am 3cm dilated and 90% effaced. Midwife says it looks like she will be here by tonight :) Going back home to rest since sleeping has been difficult. What an unpredictable labor! We will be checking back with the midwife at noon. I’ll let you know if there is any change.” A day of walking, bathing, and leaning over the couch during contractions, I clung to the verses that decorated our house to encourage me through this unpredictable process.

Another day went by walking and trying so hard to get my labor going. The next text sent out was at 5:06 pm that night: “Ok peeps it’s Brandon. Slowly but surely. Midwife just came over. Baby is good, Mommy is good, it’s just a slow labor. Still totally normal and our midwife is very happy with heart rate/position etc . we are just waiting for dilation. She is completely effaced, just needs to dilate. She said rest is best.” Actually what she told me is to stop walking and have a beer and relax. See, my contractions would space out to be further apart when I was lying down and would be much more difficult to get through when horizontal so I thought walking was what I should do to speed things up. But boy did she say the magic word- beer! The one craving I did not fulfill during my pregnancy I just got the go ahead to enjoy! Of course I crack one open, lay down, and boom—contractions hit 3 minutes apart lasting longer than a minute and I could tell things were getting moving…cheers!

2 hours later our midwife came back over and I had dilated to 4 cm. Yay finally things seemed to be progressing! We headed off to the birth center filled with renewed excitement and yes, renewed hope. The transfer to the birth center was grueling, but the thought of entering that giant tub was so exciting I didn’t seem to care.

 At 9 pm I was checked again and at 5cm dilated. Almost 48 hours into labor- still no baby. But at this point labor should get predictable. You hit 5cm and supposedly are going to dilate ½ a cm per hour. My midwife went to rest- preparing for our encroaching delivery. Now came the fun part (insert sarcasm here)! The two days I was in labor at home had gotten me into a groove. A sort of, labor routine, you could call it. I knew where to go, my people (Brandon and Jess) knew where to massage and you could say we had it down to a good rhythm. But getting into that coveted spa tub? Pshh I had NO IDEA what to do in there!! It was so uncomfortable to be that far into labor and have to figure everything out all over again! Needless to say, I got in a groove and was able to withstand my contractions. I should mention that, by 2am, my body was working overtime. I was having 2 (minute long) contractions every 3 minutes. So that means 2 minutes of contractions, 1 minute rest.

Its 4 am Wednesday morning. I had been in labor since 11pm Sunday night. I had no concept of time, but knew I only had a few more hours in me. All I could think of when my midwife walked into my bathroom was that if I am at least dilated to 7cm, I can make it. I knew that if I was at 7, I was approaching transition and the end would be near. I would get my beautiful delivery in the calm, peaceful environment of our beloved birth center.

4am. 5cm dilated. Completely crushed.

Our options were to break my bag of waters at the birth center to see if that jump starts things, or go to the hospital and get Pitocin to increase the productivity of my contractions. Are you kidding? The moment I heard I was still at 5 I knew we were going to the hospital and I was getting an epidural. I had done as much as I possibly could, and my body was working too hard with no result.

Driving to the hospital was the hardest part. Every contraction was a reminder that my body was failing me, and I felt that they were powerless, and that made them completely unbearable. We checked into the hospital feeling so sad and discouraged. Not to mention we were all completely exhausted.

Our midwife stayed with us the entire time. When I got into my hospital bed and got the run down on the epidural I became afraid again.

“If you happen to have a contraction while the anesthesiologist is giving you the epidural, you have to stay completely still” said the nurse to the woman in labor.

I looked at BJ (my midwife) completely astonished. “What if I have a contraction? I’m not going to be able to do this!”

“Kristen, you were just in labor for almost 3 days. This? This you can do!” It was just the encouragement I needed. 5 minutes later I got my epidural while holding my sweet, shell-shocked, exhausted husband’s hands, and having a contraction.

They broke my bag of waters right after I got my epidural and I had permission to sleep. I could feel the comforting feeling of pressure in my lower abdomen, telling me that my body was still working to get my baby born. As I was sleeping and in and out of awareness there was lots of talk and commotion. I heard Brandon asking why the heart rate was almost stopping during contractions, and I heard the words ‘major d-cell variables’.  That meant there was a cord compression somewhere. No Pitocin until her heart-rate stabilized. They started talking about and internal fetal monitor, until the nurse came in to check me.

10am. 80% effaced, -1 station, 4cm dilated. My body had officially given up, and started to close.

They told me the unfortunate news of having to have a C-section, and as my heart sank, apologies were floating around the room. It was as if everyone were as disappointed of our outcome as we were, and the feeling was tangible. They called Dr. James for an immediate cesarean.

 No more than fifteen minutes later a calm man walked through my sad, depressing hospital room. I remember it so vividly- he was wearing a black leather jacket, drinking a Starbucks coffee, and had a look of slight confusion on his face. “What’s the matter?” he said, looking around. “Why all the sad faces? We’re having a baby today!” He looks straight at me and Brandon and says “Sometimes your plans work out, sometimes they don’t. Today they didn’t. But you’re having a baby! Today… today is a good day!”

That’s all we needed. A little perspective! After hours of suffering, of trying to be patient, and of persevering- our hope was coming. This was it- I had a time that she would be in my arms. That I could look at her face and my goodness- to finally kiss her! She was coming, and today was the day.

I always wonder why they do it this way- why is it that they lay you out on the operating table like you are lying on the cross? Arms out, legs straight. It was so bizarre! At that moment, I thought to myself how this whole thing was so unpredictable. This was the last thing I was expecting.

As Brandon held my hand the nurse told him to watch behind the curtain. He was hesitant, but she convinced him that it would be the best thing he ever saw. Of course, he pulled out the iPhone camera and practically narrated the whole thing. I couldn’t see anything behind the blue shield, but what I did see- watching my husband’s face as he saw his beloved daughter enter this world, was unforgettable. He was amazed, emotional, in love.

Eight pounds, six ounces. Twenty-one inches long. 11:21 am.

She was here. She came out with her hands in the air and looking as perfect as could be. They took her to get cleaned up and for the new daddy to cut the umbilical cord. He described her to me and I could hear the chatter of the nurses and doctors around us: “big baby!” “Looks like mommy!” “Beautiful name!” “I guessed she’d be twenty-one inches!”  They laid her on my chest after she was all bundled up and as I spoke to her- she looked for me. She knew my voice just as much as I knew the feeling of her feet from the inside. I finally gave her kisses, we took some first family pictures, and I started feeling sick.

I gave her back to my tear filled husband, and waited to be stitched up. At this moment I was silently scared. I felt that she finally came out and that something was going to happen to me. I accidently looked up and saw the reflection of my open body on the light above me and saw an overabundance of blood pour out of my abdomen. As calm Dr. James called for a nurse to get him a certain medicine (I don’t remember the name but found out later it was a blood coagulant) I could hear a sense of urgency in his tone. The nurse left the room, he stitched me up, and didn’t need it after all. I was fine. Everything was fine.

As I got taken back to my room, I started to shake uncontrollably. It’s a typical side effect from the anesthesia, but so uncomfortable and unnerving. As my midwife helped Hope to latch on and nurse for the first time- I realized the only thing that stopped my body from shaking was the only thing my body was missing. As hope lay peacefully nursing at my side, my body lying still, I got to stare at God’s promise to me and enjoy her completely.

The weeks that followed were unforgettable. It was like we were in this bubble, protected from anything that would get in the way of fully enjoying our newborn baby. Nursing was hard, but rewarding, and I bonded with her more and more every day. And there has been nothing that has brought Brandon and I closer than the birth of our daughter. Not only was it the experience itself- but the bonding we had the first two weeks as a family are indescribable.

Rejoice in your sufferings, because suffering produces patience, patience produces perseverance, and perseverance produces hope, and Hope never disappoints.

It was all worth it. There is nothing disappointing about her. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.