My father is notorious for one liners. He has many catch phrases that could be repeated by a number of family and friends. The one that rings most true to me in these past few weeks is, “Everything is subject to change.”
The story of our son coming to join us on the other side of my belly is one I couldn’t have dreamt up. I never wrote out a “birth plan,” but I had an idea of how I wanted things to go. I wanted to go into labor naturally, see how long I could stand contractions, and hopefully have this child free of medicine. I would consider myself a tough cookie, so I felt like I was up for the challenge. I am in no way against modern medicine; however, as a massage therapist, I do believe there a lot of things the body can do on its own just because of the way God crafted us.
When 40 weeks came and went, we went to the doctor for a nonstress test to make sure baby was happy. He was. The practice we were going to doesn’t like when their patients go over 41 weeks so they said that would be the final day we could wait until they would schedule an induction day. My husband and I just decided, let’s do this thing. Who cares about induction? Doctors do this all the time. Let’s meet our baby. That was the first thing to change in my plan.
We headed home to gather our things, ate dinner with family, and headed to the hospital that evening to start the process. It was a slow start because I wasn’t dilated very far. I didn’t imagine going to the hospital free of contractions. I didn’t imagine being able to do one final clean sweep of my house before welcoming baby home. I didn’t think the drive to the hospital would be so calm.
We settled into our room, got some medicine started, and I had a terrible night of sleep. I couldn’t wait (I know this is strange) to start feeling contractions. The morning came and they started me on Pitocin. And I began to feel them. It wasn’t terrible. My husband and I watched “FRIENDS” and I was snap chatting friends and family trying to keep the situation light. The waiting continued. No more checks, they just kept giving me more Pitocin and broke my water.
The afternoon came along with my sister and brother-in-law for a visit. It was nice to have a distraction as the contractions started to increase in intensity and frequency. Contractions were happening about every 2 minutes and I was hoping, just hoping, that I had dilated more with how often they were happening. Around 3 in the afternoon they checked me and I had dilated a half centimeter since I had arrived at the hospital the night before. A half of a centimeter, in case you missed it. I had 8 more centimeters to go before I could even start pushing. The nurse recommended an epidural. She said my body could have been tense and the epidural may help relax my body and allow it to do its thing. I understand we were trying to recreate nature here, so there was a risk none of the medicine would work as they anticipated. But I was ready to meet my baby. Once again, a change in my original plans, I got the epidural.
An hour later, nothing changed. Wyatt hadn’t dropped, I hadn’t progressed, and I was almost done with season 9 of “FRIENDS.” My favorite doctor from our practice came in and explained my options. I could continue to labor like I was for as long as I wanted, or we could just go ahead with a cesarean section. It took little to no time to convince me that the C-section was the way to go. All I wanted was to see my baby. No medicine, no change of plans, nothing else seemed to matter.
Within moments of making the decision, I had nurses surrounding me prepping me for surgery and Lewie was packing up our things. He was dressed in scrubs and I was lying on the bed crying. Looking back, I’m sure some of the tears were nerves – but the reality hit me that this long awaited 10 months of pregnancy was coming to an end. I was finally going to meet this little boy I had fallen so deeply in love with. I had talked to him for 10 months, not knowing what color his eyes were or whether or not he had mommy or daddy’s nose. They wheeled me into the operating room and eventually my husband joined me by my head. I sang the song, “Ever Be” by Bethel the entire time they were pushing on my body working to get my boy out. Hearing that first cry was the best moment of my life. Meeting my husband and walking down the aisle to marry him are pretty high on the list – but never have I known a love as deep as this love of being a mom.
I didn’t understand how much I could love this boy without even knowing him further than his kicks and squirms in my stomach. He didn’t have to do anything for me to love him. He simply is – and that is the most glorious, awe-inspiring thing he could be. He is ours; which is completely enough.
I have read about how deep, how wide the Heavenly Father’s love is for us. I’ve sang it in songs at church, I’ve heard sermons, I’ve experienced love from my own father that reflects the love of God, our Father. But nothing can compare to the feeling of knowing this boy, little Wyatt, was crafted just for us; and us for him. This new role I get to play of being a mom is such a privilege and has opened my eyes to new love.
Truths that I have grown up believing take on a new light. God created us in his image. He sent himself, as Jesus to walk among us, live a perfect life, and show us the way to come back into relationship with Him. Then, he offered his son, as a sacrifice, so that He could have an unhindered relationship with us for eternity. This love is too much for me. I can’t begin to wrap my mind around it. There are so many clichés that now hold so much meaning.
I’m wildly thankful for a God who is so creative. Our God allows us to have new experiences that bring us closer to Him. I couldn’t bear all this at once. He’s a God who brings us to new revelations in His timing. Ephesians 3:17b-19 (NIV) says, “And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” [emphasis mine].
I am realizing that everything is subject to change; whether it be the plans I have set in my mind or the view I carry of God. He continues to create me more and more into His image. Let us surrender our plans to a God, to our Heavenly Father whose love has no limits; especially those limits we have created ourselves. Let us be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.