Welcome, Elsie Joy {a birth story}

Just over a week ago, we got to hold our baby girl for the first time.  For the sake of preserving a thousand moments I don’t want to forget, here’s the full story, and I warn you I didn’t provide the short version.

Thursday evening (August 3rd), I started feeling contractions that were a bit stronger than the Braxton Hicks type I had been feeling for weeks.  It was the day before her due date, and I had a tentative induction scheduled for the next week if she didn’t come on her own.  As such, I had spent the morning trying to coax her on out.  I walked four miles in the morning heat on feet that felt twice their usual size due to all the extra fluid.  Next, I hit the pool with friends for a swim (which was really more of a sit-and-float-around situation because let’s not kid ourselves about swimming laps when 40 weeks pregnant).  Starting at 5pm and throughout the evening, the contractions I’d been feeling really sporadically that day became a little more frequent, a little stronger, and a little more regular.

Naturally, at this time I got on my big blue yoga ball and painted my toes.  Because how on earth could I welcome our girl into the world with janky toenail polish?!  As the contractions progressed I picked up around the house, took a bath, and generally tried to take my mind off things.  I’d had a few bouts of “false labor” in the previous week where things would feel like they were progressing and then fizzle out, so I was cautious to say this was the real deal just yet.  However, by midnight I had decided if what I was feeling wasn’t the real deal, we were in trouble.  Gone were the cute contractions…these hurt.  Joey had already gone to bed to get some rest since he was supposed to start school with students the next day, and again, I wasn’t sure if this was the big moment.  I decided to text a friend who is a labor and delivery nurse at the hospital I would deliver at – after describing my contractions to her, she gently nudged me that given our driving distance of 50 mins from the hospital and the fact they were now averaging 5-6 mins apart, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to head that way.   

In the months leading up to this, I had assumed the big moment of telling Joe, “baby, it’s time to go!” would be sweet and exciting.  We’d look at each other all giddy and laugh, as he helped me to the car.  You know, just like in tv shows.   But when the actual moment arrived, all I could think of was the significant discomfort wrapping from my back to the front of my belly.  Each wave pushed me further into my mind – I knew to let my body do what it needed to do it was important for me to relax, but that was becoming harder by the minute.  I solemnly woke Joe up and said, “I think we need to go” with about as much excitement as if I were telling him we were going into battle.  In truth, I was excited – but I was also scared of how much pain I was already in, and of the fact that it seemed more and more likely that we were about to become parents.   Uncharacteristically for his waking style, he immediately leaped out of bed and yanked on clothes and a hat at lightening speed.  Our bags already in the car, we hit the road with me holding his hand and silently trying to relax, and the odometer creeping up a little faster with every contraction.
When we arrived at the hospital, I was dilated to 3cm, and after an hour of walking the halls I had progressed to 4 and they officially admitted me.  No turning back now!  At 5cm (and about 5am by then) I got my epidural placed.  Thankfully then Joe and I were both able to crash for a few glorious hours of much-needed sleep, since I hadn’t slept since the night before.  Sidenote: if you’ve heard me talk about this in the past several months, I was aiming for a natural (epidural free) birth.  But as we walked the halls and I couldn’t speak or get away from the pain no matter what positioned I assumed, I feared that without relief I would be too fatigued to push by the end, not to mention I felt like I was barely present for what was happening because it was taking so much work to stay in control.  So I got the epidural, and I have zero regrets about that.  If you’re looking to go natural in delivery, don’t let this discourage you at all!  This was just our experience and what worked for us.  After it was placed and working, I was asking Joey if he had spoken with our families and such.  He looked at me and said, “good to have you back, babe.”  Enough said.

The next several hours were a blur of family arriving at the hospital, napping with a giant peanut ball between my knees, laughing with Joey, and eating cup after cup of ice chips.  I continued to progress labor wise, slowly but surely, and finally at 3 pm it was time to push!  I couldn’t believe we were moments away from meeting our baby girl.  Internally, I was scared, nervous, elated.  Externally, I was really ready to push!  We started the pushing process, which was harder than I expected.  While my epidural was working well to control my pain from the contractions, it did nothing to minimize the sensation others have described as the “ring of fire”….and that’s all I’ll say about that. 

Through the entire process, Joey was right by my side, reminding me to breathe and that meeting our girl would be worth every second of the process.  He was the voice of reaon instructing me on what I should be doing, and I needed that.  Even though I had read several books and was as prepared as you can be before such an event, it was easier for me to trust and follow his reminders than try to think through things for myself.  My midwife and nurse were also an incredible team – guiding me and encouraging me every step of the way.  I think my midwife realized pretty quickly that I responded to affirmations of progress, so she continually told me how we were progressing, what I was doing right and what was helpful, and they counted down for me each time I needed to push.  The only other person in the room was our best friend, Laura, standing off to the side to capture some pictures of the moment we met Elsie Joy.  Having her there was another person rooting for us every step of the way, and something I’ll treasure.  At one point, my midwife asked me if I wanted a mirror to see Elsie’s head as it descended.  Her head was visible and everyone else was cheering.  I agreed and in my mind I saw a full baby’s head crowning.  What the mirror actually showed me was a quarter sized circle of her head – still seemingly very high up and far away to me. It was seriously depressing with as much effort as I had been giving in my mind.  Nevertheless, onward we went!

After pushing for what felt like an eternity, I started to lose confidence and composure.  I was tired and felt like that girl was never going to come out! The discomfort of her head descending was impossible to ignore and was wearing on me.  My nurse Jill got right in my face and lovingly but firmly told me to focus.  Joey was on my other side saying “she’s worth it, babe, she’s worth it.” Midwife Stephanie encouraged me to look in the mirror and see how close we were to being finished (a more encouraging sight by this time because she was much closer to delivery), and even Laura was chiming in ” YOU CAN DO THIS, HAY.”  In what sounds like chaos, I felt so loved and supported.  Each person in the room was focused on helping me with this pivotal moment.  It was just the kind of atmosphere to welcome a new little person into the world.  (Though I will admit, if someone had offered me a c section or trip to anywhere but here at that moment, I would’ve had a hard time saying no. Thankfully, no one did!)

August 4th, 2017 (her actual due date!), at 4 pm on the dot and exactly an hour after starting to push, Elsie Joy entered the world.  Seconds later, all 7 pounds and 14 ounces of her rested on my chest.  I lay there shaking with exhaustion, my arms holding this tiny bundle against myself.  Relief that it was over washed over me, and I saw Joey wiping away tears as he looked down at us.  The next few minutes flash by in my mind like snapshots from a camera.  Joey cut the cord, and they slipped Elsie under my gown directly onto my skin.  I felt her warm little body wiggle against mine and heard her high pitched cries.  I tried my first task of motherhood as I patted and whispered to her until she calmed down.  When Joey got down beside us and said hello to his daughter, her tiny face changed and a glimmer of a baby smile and dimple flickered there (oh my heart) – she knew and liked that voice already too.  Jill and Stephanie continued to work on me to deliver the placenta and other do other unmentionable things while our little family huddled together at the head of my bed. 

I’ve heard stories of new moms who immediately feel connected to their babies as soon as they are laid on their chest and other moms who take some time in feeling that connection.  While I did feel connected to her as she lay against me, I wasn’t necessarily overwhelmed with any emotion other than relief that 23 hours of labor was over.  But as things calmed down in the room, Stephanie finished things up on my lower half and came to the head of the bed.  She peered down at Elsie with me, then wrapped her arms around both of us and whispered a blessing over Elsie’s life in my ear.  “Elsie Joy Liew, may you do mighty things in the name of Jesus…” and as she continued to speak over my daughter, my heart was flooded with so much emotion all I could do was cry.  The love, joy, and delight over her that consumed my heart was staggering.   Yes, Lord, I agreed in my head with Stephanie’s humble prayer over my baby. Not long after, Joey would pray over our new little family too, and again I felt like every piece of my heart would burst.

The next few hours were filled with Elsie being checked out by the nursery staff, watching Joey snuggle her for the first time, and introducing her to our families.  Watching our parents and siblings hold her was such a gift, as I saw all over again how loved and cherished she already is.  The next day we helped bathe her for the first time, continued to work on breastfeeding, and finally headed home when she was about 30 hours old.  As we stood in the kitchen together that night holding her, taking in this new journey beginning as a family of three, all I could think of was how good God’s gifts are to us. 

………………………………………….

Since that day, I’ve thought about Els’s labor hundreds of times.  I wouldn’t change a single second of it.  Each of the experiences and emotions (whether wonderful or hard) made it the incredible day that it was.  I’m grateful I was able to carry her tiny life for nine precious months, and then bring her into the world safely.  It was grueling and unpleasant at times – but the hard work only made it feel more holy in my mind.  I would do it a thousand times over to have her in my arms still.  The way God designed the entire process is mind boggling! 

Our first week at home has been full of challenges as we adjust to being parents.  We feel like we are 100% winging it and leaning on each other every day.  There were episodes of tanking hormone levels that left me a soggy mess, while Joe quietly reminded me of what was true and took care of his girls.  Els had a bit of jaundice, meaning we had to go to the pediatrician three times her first week for labs and weight checks, which was hard on this new momma’s emotional state.  The anxiety and self-doubt I felt over so many little decisions each day was not something I expected, but in this weakness, I saw the Lord shine so brightly.  He gave me a husband to tenderly care for me, and friends who showed up in a thousand ways and literally carried us through the roller coaster that is the first week of motherhood.  So many moments where I was feeling overwhelmed were met by reassurance and wisdom from those who have gone before us.  We’ve been blown away by the sweetness of seeing the community we have love on us so well.

Watching Joe step into his new role as Daddy is just the very best.  He melts when he looks at her, and this makes me all kinds of swoony.  He is tender and funny with her, and so involved.  I suspect if someone were counting, he’s changed far more diapers than me in an attempt to do what he can to care for her, since her feedings fall to me.  He stays up with her from 12-3am which has been her fussiest time, but he does it with enthusiasm each night and lets me sleep.  I can not imagine doing this whole gig alone, and certainly not without him.  We sit around for hours and stare at her, saying over and over to each other, “look how pretty she is!” as if it’s a new revelation.  Others may also agree with us on this, but saying it to each other knowing that she is ours, and we are hers, it means something so special.  I prayed that God would let us be teammates through all of this – not irritated and short with each other as lack of sleep might have us be, but gracious and kind.  He has abundantly answered that prayer.

Elsie is sleeping fairly well so far, but as a newborn she does need to eat often and throughout the night.  While losing the sleep is hard, these moments are often my favorite.  Our home is quiet as I pick her up and snuggle her close.  I kiss her silky head and whisper to her as we change her diaper and settle in for a feeding.  While she eats, I take in everything I can about her.  Her tiny toes, her round tummy, the tiny dimple on her right cheek that flashes at me when she nurses.  I stroke her soft little face and wait for her to bat her eyes at me from time to time.  I feel the weight of her settle across my body and with it comes the sweet responsibility to raise her well.  I breathe in her sweet baby smell, and just like in every other part of this journey so far – I’m completely overwhelmed by love for her and awe at the faithfulness of God to give her to me.
Welcome to the world, little love.  We’re wild about you already. 

Joe praying over us as a family of three.

Photos by JLC Photography

Photo by Wonderly Photography