At the risk of getting too personal, I have a miracle story to share. I have resisted writing this out here, but I can't shake the feeling that this is a place that I need to write this out. So here it is.
Just over 2 1/2 years ago I was very pregnant with our second child. We lived literally in the sticks-- a strong 90 minutes from the nearest hospital in rural Wyoming. It was winter, and I remember distinctly about 5 weeks before delivery we had an unbelievable storm and we were quite literally snowed in. Burke was out of town, and some girl friends and I were supposed to be having a girls night out. We couldn't even make it out of the "subdivision" where we lived. Snow drifts taller than my SUV and blizzard like conditions made it memorable indeed. When we were all home safe and sound that night, I remember laying awake in my bed for hours. Even though I was 5 weeks away from delivery, I felt panic knowing that if for some reason I had gone into labor that night, I would have been having an unattended at home birth-- not something I was planning for. That night I got serious about preparing for the birth of my daughter. I made more specific plans to go to Idaho (where my doctor was) the last 2 weeks of the pregnancy. Up until that point, I had sort of hoped to not have to do that. (The last few weeks of pregnancy are totally manic --not really the time you want to be a house guest!) We were very far from medical help in the event of a true emergency.
Fast forward a few short weeks, my dear Rebekah's birth unfolded in ways I could never have expected. After going in to labor and dilating 3 cm, my labor stalled and came to a standstill. Because I hadn't checked into the hospital, and I knew I wasn't in totally active labor yet and didn't want to go to the hospital yet, the midwife called in a sleeping pill for me and told me to go and get some rest and come in when my labor picked up again. When I woke up the next morning, my whole belly looked different. My baby had breeched herself. I remember being so dumbfounded. How does this happen?!? We scheduled a procedure to turn the baby the next day. No luck. Just a bruised up belly that felt like someone had used it for a punching bag-- and did I mention--I was
still pregnant. I diligently kept to the "hammock pose" to natually encourage the baby to turn on her own, but she didn't budge. I remember feeling so confused. What should I even hope for, ask for? I knew that a cesarean birth was not the end of the world, yet it felt completely the opposite of what I wanted. I sought a priesthood blessing. I remember my Dad asking me what I wanted before he blessed me. I couldn't get very specific-- I had so much fear. I had a lot of questions like, 'Why did she turn over in the first place? Was there something wrong that we couldn't see? Some important piece of the puzzle that we didn't have yet? Did I NEED to have a c-section for everyone to be okay?' So that is what I told him. "I just want us to both be okay." I was filled with so much peace as the blessing was pronounced. I knew whatever happened we would be okay. I was counseled to have faith, and ask specifically for what I wanted. So I did. I got very specific. I continued to pray for our well being, and I prayed that my baby would turn. But she didn't turn. I was discouraged. How could it be possible that I didn't have enough faith? Why, despite my attempts to ask the Lord to make up the difference didn't I have have the blessing that I sought so specifically? We scheduled the cesarean birth and 6 very long days after she breeched my little Rebakah was born.
Fast forward 2 years later when I learned I had lupus. My symptoms actually began towards the end of the second trimester and really escalated in the few months after Rebakah's birth. My doctor and I had no idea I had lupus at that time. But looking back, I am certain that I did. The day my Rheumatologist and I discussed pregnancy and childbirth as pertaining to a mother with lupus I got my answer. A lupus mom is at increased risk for postpartum blood clots and needs to be treated specifically to prevent this. When I learned this, I remembered something that literally brought me to tears. After my baby's surgical birth every 12 hours the nurses woke me to give me a heparin shot (blood thinner). The second day, the nurse was just making conversation and told me that many doctors do not order this specific procedure anymore for c-section moms-- she said, "your doctor has been doing some reading and has decided it may have some benefit." I now understand that in a case such as mine there was quite probably "some benefit".
Can you imagine what could have gone wrong for me? What if we had had a normal uncomplicated delivery? I would have gone back to Wyoming within a few days of my baby's birth. And there far from medical help, without warning, I may have had a complication that could have maimed or killed me. Who knows? Maybe everything would have been fine. But I realize now, that the two things I was asking for so specifically-- 1) that she and I would be well and 2) My baby would turn over-- were possibly in direct conflict with each other. And I am grateful that my prayer
was answered. And I know that even when it doesn't seem to make any sense at all, things happen for a reason.
Rebekah is now 3! I hardly believe it. I still call her "baby" . . . Will I ever stop?! A few words that describe my precious Rebekah . . . . Sweet, Tender, Gentle, Determined, & Stubborn;
