Well, here I am on the other side of watching God bring life from my body for the sixth time.
The past few weeks and months of suffering aches and pains, restlessness, immobility, and emotional depression culminated in the climax of my suffering a few days ago. I labored with this child for 24 hours in addition to the 5 hours that I sat getting my dose of antibiotics prior. (I do accept the aid of modern medicine).
There was one point, about 16 hours into it, that my nurse checked me and said the baby’s head actually was farther up. It was then my feelings of uncertainty increased. Why wasn’t I dilating? Would I be able to birth this child on my own or would I have to have a C-section? Was something wrong with him that he wouldn’t come down? Why was his heart rate dropping? I had never had anything like this happen before.
At the 20 hour mark I was thinking I’m going to have to have a C-section. I will never be able to push him out. I am too tired. I am physically, mentally and emotionally spent.
After praying, my husband came to me and said, “I think you can do it.” My doctor came in and told me he had prayed about it and thought I could do it. They didn’t want me to quit.
In my exhaustion I complied.
I continued to labor. Finally, 4 hours later, the pressure was too great to withstand. I had to push. I mustered up what I could to push that child out. I only got to hold him for a moment because he needed medical attention. His color was not good.
I spiked a fever. Everything on my body hurt. I was light-headed. My physical suffering continued.
Why did all this happen? Every odd was in my favor. I have had 5 relatively uncomplicated births and none of them lasted much longer than 12 hours. With the sixth everyone expected it to go fast and easy. It was as if this was planned. Was it? I am beginning to think so.
After a friend of ours who heard that I was still in labor the next day left me this message: “I’m praying God will release angels to warfare for you and your family right now. Peace for you. Strength for you. He’s right here you can do this!” It hit me.
It was never about me being strong enough. It was about me being weak enough to put my trust in something other than myself. I trusted my husband as my spiritual leader. I trusted my doctor as God’s minister to me. I trusted my God without question because I simply didn’t have the strength to fight.
Today as I recover, I pray for a healing of my mind, body and my spirit. I pray that what I took out of the delivery room that day was more than a baby. I pray that God has infused his Spirit with mine so that I will face everyday with a relinquished self-will and the ability to trust more deeply each step He leads me.
Instead, be very glad—for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world. 1 Pet 4:13