In this season of Thanksgiving, I felt it was finally time to
share the story of my greatest blessing this year. I have thought long and hard about whether or
not I should share this story with the masses, but for some reason, fairly
early on in my pregnancy, I felt strongly it needed to be shared. This is a very tender and personal story and
I hope you as the reader will treat it as such and that perhaps it is just what
one of you may need to hear. This is a
story of miracles and a story of God’s awareness of each of us. It’s a story of
the power He and His Son have to heal and make right the things that seem to go
wrong in this journey we call mortality in ways we can't explain. It is proof that God still talks to men and
women today and that He is in the smallest of details and loves us more than we
can imagine. It’s a story of hope – and
we could all use a bit more of that in our lives.
August 8th & 9th
2013:
I braced myself as the wave of the
next contraction washed over me. I
closed my eyes and held onto the IV pole with one hand and pushed against the
bed railing with the other. I had been
in labor now for close to 24 hours and the end was nigh.
I really had nothing to complain
about with the pain of the labor. I had
been blessed with my easiest pregnancy yet.
The morning sickness and mood swings of the early stages had been pretty
mild. There had been a brief period
where in the afternoons I always had to take at least a 20 minute nap, but
other then that I had tons of energy.
Especially at the end, even though I was large and couldn’t tie my own
shoes, I was still working out daily and trying to plow through a ton of house
projects. The weeks leading up to
delivery were filled with late nights ripping out carpet, having new carpet put
in, new hardwood floors put in, moving all the kids bedrooms around, dealing
with car issues and dog and cat issues, etc., etc., etc.! Nesting at it’s finest.
I closed my eyes and reached for my
mom's ice cold hand. She pressed the rag
she had dipped in ice water to my forehead.
It didn’t feel cold enough but was still enough to take the edge off the
contraction. It was just before 1 am and
I told myself I could go on like this until at least 1:30am. Then we would reevaluate.
We never find out the sex of our babies. We like to be “old fashioned” that way and
have it be a big surprise at the end of the long 9 months. We also never settle on a definitive name for
either boy or girl. I have to meet the
little one and have them “tell” me who they are, and what they will be known as
the rest of their life. It’s a big
decision and we are usually right down to the wire of leaving the hospital
before we finally decide. It drives
everyone nuts – us included!
Dr. M came into the room and
started putting on a gown. It was just
after 1am on Friday August 9th and he was probably the most ready to
have this kid come out. It was time to
get down to business and start pushing.
The end was so very close.
Can I just try to explain to you
how hard it is to push a baby out when you don’t have the urge to do so? It’s really hard. It requires extreme focus and brute will to
make it happen. It’s not an easy place
to be and it helps if you’ve been there before.
I had to dig deep to find the courage and the energy to do it. Up to this point I had been able to tolerate
the pain but this was the apex – the highest point – and there was only one way
to relieve it. This was where my mind
was shouting duel messages at me, “Why didn’t I get the epidural?”, “You can do
this! , “Why didn’t I get the epidural?!” , “You were made for this! , “WHY
DIDN’T I GET THE EPIDURAL?!” , It’s almost over!." I knew the pain would only stop once the baby
was out.
My water broke at 1:03am and 6 very
short, and yet at the same time, very LONG minutes later at 1:09am on August 9th,
2013 I officially became the mother of 4.
**********************
The minute the baby popped out, the
doctor held it up for Greg to declare the sex.
“A GIRL!!!”
The promise was complete. God had proven true in all He had said to me
on that treadmill over a year before. He
had allowed me to wade through sorrow and deep heartache and pain to give me a
wonderful gift, the gift of letting me fully and completely know that He was
aware of me. That He was desirous for my
happiness and that He had a very individual plan for me. Why was I given this gift? I do not fully know but one thing is for
sure, he used it as an opportunity to teach me what it feels like to have the
Atonement work in my life, what it is like to have Him speak to me through the
quiet whisperings of the Holy Ghost, and that He will never lead me
astray. He will always fulfill His
promises to His children. He desires to
bless us beyond our belief and He hopes we will be accepting of those blessings
and have the faith necessary to do all that He asks of us – even when we don’t
think it fits into “our plan”.
So what was the instruction and
promises to me on that treadmill? One
thing should be pretty clear; He knows for some reason, still unknown to me,
that this baby had to come in August. He
spoke peace of all being OK and everything turning out just fine. And lastly, as if to prove Himself just a
little more, He told me………………
……………….. it would be a girl.
2 comments:
Thank you for sharing this Megan. OH what an experience. I love your relationship with Heavenly Father. I just relate so well to the way you word things. You should seriously consider writing a novel someday. You've got skills. And Lindsay is beautiful and so are you. MIss you. Miss Missouri.
Amie
Beautiful story and beautiful pictures. I miss you!
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