Part 3

Well, so I suppose I lied. I said in my last post that I would post Part 3 soon, and it has been a couple of weeks. With apologies, here is Part 3 of our story . . .

Part 3

The nurses changed again. At about 2:30 in the afternoon of the 5th, I was totally exhausted. I hadn’t really slept in a couple of days and the toll of being in labor added to that exhaustion. The nurses had let me know that they could give me some drugs for pain or to help me sleep before I got an epidural, but I am not the biggest fan of pain medication, so I turned them down each time they offered. By 3:30 though, I decided to give in. The nurse told me they could give me a half dose to see how it made me feel and if all went well they could give me the rest of the dose. As she put the meds into my IV, I don’t think my eyes even stayed open to see her leave the room. I was out.

The next three hours were like a weird mix of hallucinating and sleeping. If people were in the room or outside in the hall, their voices were magnified. Jeff and my Dad were out in the hallway talking and it sounded to me like they were yelling. Jeff assured me later that they were whispering. I had these odd dreams full of childhood toys and the dishes we had when I was growing up. My grandmothers' houses were part of it in some indescribable way. I did appreciate the sleep, but that experience confirmed to me that I do not like pain medication, and also why I didn’t do drugs. Who would want to make themselves feel like that?

By 6:00 PM the drugs had worn off and I told the nurse I would certainly not be doing that again! We settled in for the night, all the while praying together and Jeff encouraging me with scripture and hugs and kind words. I’m sure we had visitors during that time too, but as I look back, really the only thing that marks the time for me is the nurse shift changes and the visitors and phone calls kind of slip in and out amongst the hours.

As the night dragged on, the contractions were getting stronger and closer together and my nurse assured me that that was a good sign and we were starting to speed things along. Finally at about 1:00 AM the pain hit the point at which I was ready to get the epidural. Our nurse called the anesthesiologist and he was there before I knew it and within minutes the pain had subsided. Even though I now remember it happening with Caroline, at the time I was surprised that as soon as the pain went away, uncontrollable shaking overtook me for the next ten minutes or so. The nurse told us that that happens because your body has been under so much stress and it is releasing it after you aren’t feeling the pain anymore.

After about an hour of calm and silence at 2:26 AM on December 6, 2007, our son Joshua was delivered – much too soon and much too late. He was gone before he arrived. After 22 hours of labor his body entered a world that his spirit will never know. 10 1/4 cm, 14.1 oz. He looked like a perfect, but very tiny baby. He could fit in your two hands cupped together.

The time that it would take scared me so much going into the hospital on December 5th, but as crazy as it may sound, I look back and appreciate that it took 22 hours and not two. Those hours were full of prayers and reflection and receiving and giving so much that I would not shorten that time if I could. Had Joshua been born alive and healthy, there would have been no limit on the time I would give to get him here, and for me the fact that he wasn’t doesn’t change that for me. Those hours were without question dark and hard at times, but also filled with love and healing.

Grace and peace.