When I was pregnant, I read up a lot about labour and
delivery. In fact I was thinking about it even before we got pregnant. The
natural researcher in me wanted to know all the facts. I found it so
interesting. I soon began to get an idea of the kind of birth I would love and
the kind I wanted to avoid. I saw labour as something beautiful, not to be
feared, where I could welcome each contraction as one step closer to meeting
our baby.
So I began to pray. I prayed that God would protect me in
labour, that He would bless me with a straight forward birth and prevent any
complications arising. I prayed in detail about this. I wrote out bible verses,
made a worship play list and prayed that God would be present in the room so
that all in it could see Him move. I read only positive birth stories,
particularly from other believers, and saw how woman after woman received calm,
peaceful births, (whether things went the way they had hoped or not).
And looking back now, I see it. I was building an idol,
piece by piece.
None of the things I mentioned are bad, and I found all
of them helpful, but the problem was in my heart. Deep down I felt if I just
did the right breathing exercises and ate and exercised right, and did all I
could to get baby in the right position, everything would go smoothly and I
would have the birth experience I wanted.
I prayed often for Gods will to be done, but in my
attempt to have faith for what I prayed for, I was far from surrendered.
God delivered our little girl into the world in the early
hours of a January morning. Our little Christmas baby was 13 days ‘late’, but
by God’s grace, she was right on time.
I was induced, but labour was quick. I never found the
contractions to be so overwhelming that I couldn’t cope, but Annie’s heartbeat
dropped every time I experienced one. I narrowly avoided a c section, but Annie
was instead delivered by forceps. I healed very quickly in the days following,
but my body will bear lasting scars. Although parts of labour could have been
traumatic, I felt at peace the whole way through. If God blesses us with more
children, I look forward to giving birth again, but my scars mean I need to
decide if a c section might be more appropriate for future deliveries.
The stories of those roughly 12 hours are filled with
extraordinary answered prayers, and the breaking of my ‘dream’ birth
experience. I have memories filled with joy and peace and a deep understanding
of my body, but I have never felt the fragility of my own mortality so
strongly. I can still see the look of fear on Roy’s face every time he looked
at the heart rate monitor.
In the days following it was difficult for me to come to
terms with some of the long term implications caused by Annie’s delivery. I was
so in love and so thankful she was alive and healthy, but my mind was filled
with the age old question; WHY?
I loved to hear other women’s birth experiences, but when
they described their quick, straight forward labours with no interventions and
just a couple of stiches afterwards, I couldn’t help but feel gutted. I felt
less of a woman. I hadn’t delivered the perfect performance. I felt shame over
the way my body had failed me.
Then, when others recounted tales of emergency c
sections, long labours and failure to progress, I would congratulate myself on
how I had progressed so quickly and coped with only gas and air (barely
mentioning the spinal block they gave me so they could use forceps, because,
well, I hadn’t asked for it).
The pride sickens me, but even as I’m writing this I want
to gloss over certain parts of the story. I see how I strive for the
perfection, a distorted effort to hide my shame. I feel the need for others to
see me as a strong, feminine woman, but more than that, I’m trying to prove it
to myself.
The fall changed God’s perfect plan for childbearing, but
the world still sells us lies, and they are so close to the truth that I walked
right into believing them. The world tells us our feminine bodies are amazing,
and I believe that, but however hard we try, we cannot simply do ‘anything’,
even with the most detailed birth plan. If it was so there would be no forceps,
emergency c sections, and no parents grieving the child born into the world,
but already departed from it. Giving birth is an act wildly out of our control.
Since the garden of Eden the serpent has been telling us
to worship ourselves, and so often I believe him.
I didn’t understand why I still felt my stomach twist
when other women told me they got pregnant straight away. I had my daughter
now, so why did it still hurt? Yet it gets clearer with time, how much I expect
of myself, how hard I am trying to do it all ‘right’. Sometimes I think that
way deep down my flesh is shouting ‘If you do it all perfectly, you won’t need
God’.
Jeremiah writes in chapter 17 of his book ‘The heart is deceitful
above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?’
In another country, or time, Annie may have been
stillborn. Her little heart may not have survived the time it took for me to
deliver her on my own. When we thought I was going to need a c section under
general anaesthetic, Roy was asked to wait outside. Pacing the corridor, he
thought he was going to lose both his wife and his child.
As I was coming to
terms with this experience I read an article on Desiring God, called ‘Better
than a birth plan’, by Jenni Naselli. In it she writes;
‘God loves us
too much to let us keep worshiping our heart idols. He knows our hearts and
exactly what will draw us closer to him — weakness and dependence or grateful
praise’.
This sentence stopped me in my tracks, because I knew it
then. I would’ve felt proud that I had achieved the kind of birth I hoped for.
In weakness, I am learning to accept and thank Him for His plan. In dependence I
choose to trust Him to care for my body in the future.
It really is so hard to manage your expectations as a
first time mum. For one thing, you have no idea what giving birth and caring
for a newborn feels like. For another, you have nothing to do for 40 weeks but
dream. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of idolising your preferred set of
events. It helps you feel just a little bit more in control.
Birth, however, is an experience almost entirely out of
our control. Preparation and knowing the facts helped me, but it could never
produce the exact outcome I hoped for. Only submission to God’s plan gives us
true peace. This side of heaven we will always live in the tension of sin and
The Saviour, but I hope these words encourage any expectant mothers to breathe
in, loosen your hands and begin the work of trusting Him. He will fulfil His
purposes for you, whether you choose to submit to them or not.
For the rest of us, I hope we can learn to hear the
stories of other mothers with humble, compassionate hearts. May we rejoice with
those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. For our God is working in 6
hour long water births and in 32 hour labours resulting in a c section. He is
leading women to the shelter of His wings, through joy or disappointment.
Oh that we would not compare ourselves to others, that we
would trust the work God is doing in us. It will take a lifetime for us to
learn this, but just in this moment we can be sure, it is impossible for God to
love us anymore or any less than he already does. We are His children, and He
loves our children more than we ever could.
We can have hope. It came in the birth of a baby
thousands of years ago. One who sacrificed His life on a cross so that we can
sacrifice our bodies for our children, with the knowledge that one day He will
redeem it all.
‘My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength
of my heart and my portion forever’
Psalm 73v26
- https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/better-than-a-birth-plan
- Humble Roots by Hannah Anderson
