Kiss Your Miracle

Micah Nathan Curington! Born in Ocala, Florida, at 11:12am on Monday, February 8^th, 2010. We chose Micah for his first name because it reminds us of one of our favorite Bible verses, which tells us to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8). The name means “Who is like God?” The fact that our children are miracles is something we never want to forget; they are living testimonies that our God is all-powerful and He answers prayer. There is no one else like Him.

Nathan, of course, is after my dad, and means “gift of God.” One of the highlights of Micah’s first day of life was calling my mom to tell her about the birth and share our baby’s name. As soon as I told her, she started to cry. I know it makes her sad that my dad isn’t here physically to meet his little namesake, but as she said, “Somehow I’m sure he’s aware of this honor.”

As I type this I’m sitting in a hospital bed with Micah asleep across my lap. My head is full of images from the past few days and it’s hard to know just what to share. But I keep thinking of something my mom always says to me on my birthday: “God was good to us on June 24^th, 1977.” It’s something she told each of her kids, and something she heard from her own mother on her birthday. It’s a simple statement, but it’s perfect for right now. God was good to us on February 8^th, 2010, the day we welcomed Micah Nathan into our family.

PS – Birth story coming soon!

There’s a fairly good chance our son’s birthday will be February 8^th. We are scheduled to begin an induction at the hospital Monday morning, and unless Labor and Delivery is full and tells us not to come, he’ll be born tomorrow. I suppose there’s also the possibility that the induction will take so long that he doesn’t actually arrive until Tuesday the ninth, but I’m not going to dwell on that option.

Deciding what to do was difficult. We see a wonderful doctor/midwife team and plan to deliver with the midwife, who believes in patient-directed birth. She was willing to induce us on our time frame and also willing to wait with us for as long as we wanted (within reason). At our appointment last week we talked about inducing and the various methods we could try. I was induced at 41 weeks with Skylar using a drug called Cytotech. It was only supposed to prep my cervix, but it sent me immediately into a crazy-fast labor. The fast part was good; the crazy part was scary. None of us knows if my body is one that would naturally have quick labor or if the drug hyperstimulated my uterus, which is a rare, but very possible side-effect of Cytotech. In extreme cases Cytotech can even cause the uterus to rupture. So this time around the midwife is recommending Pitocin, since its effects on the body are more easily controlled.

Of course what I really want is to go into labor on my own, and I know I could wait longer than 41 weeks to see if that would happen. But there is a question in my mind as to whether my body would go into labor at all without something to stimulate it. I realize that probably sounds like an irrational, pregnant woman’s delusion, but one of my fertility issues is in my hypothalamus, which triggers both ovulation and the start of labor. I have ovulated several times in the past few years (obviously), but my hypothalamus still doesn’t function regularly. If I decided to hold out until 42 weeks or beyond, I can’t help but wonder if I’d still need to be induced, and just the thought of that is discouraging at this point.

Last week, as the days ticked by and Adam and I tried to figure out what to do, I knew we needed help. I decided to talk to my sister-in-law Aron, who’s currently in school on her way to becoming a midwife. After she said hello I said, “Aron-I’m-so-confused!” and then dumped out a zillion concerns and questions in one big breath. “Well, let’s stop and think this through,” she said calmly, and I knew I’d called the right person. Aron used to work as a doula and she loves to see women empowered through the birth experience, especially when they do it without drugs and out of the hospital setting. But Aron knows that giving birth in a hospital is a must for Adam and me, and she’s never tried to convince us otherwise. I know Aron would take a completely different approach if she found herself in my position, but instead of trying push her opinion on me, she simply answered my questions and helped me think logically about what I want from this labor and birth experience. At the end of the conversation she said, “What’s most important is that you and Adam pray together and make the decision you feel is best for you and this particular baby. Don’t do what you think the midwife wants or what I want or what anyone else wants. Do what you feel is best.”

The next day, after talking with the midwife again and praying through our options, Adam and I decided to be induced on Monday morning using Pitocin. I realize that Pitocin and epidurals typically go hand in hand, which will probably mean a much different birth experience than I had the first time. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I’m also aware that birth is unpredictable. I’d thought my first induction would take at least a full day, but it was lightening fast. I don’t know what Monday will be like, but as the weekend slips by I’m getting more and more excited at the thought of meeting our baby. A weight was lifted once we made our decision to be induced.

As Adam and I talked about it the other night he said, “I know the birth experience is really important and I don’t want to minimize it. I would support whatever you wanted to do. But the way I see it, birth is like a wedding. It’s a big deal and a lot of preparing goes into it. You have a picture in your head of what you want and you try to make that happen. But in the end, the wedding isn’t everything. It’s the marriage that matters. I want the birth to go well and be full of good memories. But what I want more than that is a healthy wife and a healthy son.” I like the idea of natural childbirth, but I’m grateful for modern medicine too and the options it has to offer. I’m also thankful beyond words for my amazing friend and sister-in-law Aron, who selflessly and consistently supports and loves her family. Aron, you are going to make a wonderful midwife.

I’m not sure how well I’ll sleep tonight with all that awaits me this week. I have no idea what tomorrow will hold. But I do know this: God has been especially good to me, and I can’t wait to share with you what happens.

I have this little goal for myself – to write two posts a week for the blog. I typically write one on Sunday or Monday and the other on Wednesday or Thursday, and I rarely have trouble picking topics. It’s usually the opposite; I struggle to keep my writing short and to the point. But tonight I’m drawing a blank. Can I blame it on the fact that I’m 40 weeks and 2 days pregnant and can think of virtually nothing else? I guess I could write something about that, except I don’t have anything new to share. Our little boy is apparently cozy and comfortable and prefers to stay where he is for now.

But the rational, non-pregnant part of my brain knows that at some point he will be born, and that’s where my thoughts are today. Soon I’ll have something genuinely exciting to post and hopefully, some sweet baby photos to go along with it. For now I’ll leave you with a picture of what Adam recently painted on the nursery wall. He had help from a stencil, but I’m still impressed. And I think our son will like it too.

I’ve hit that point in my pregnancy where I make certain people nervous. On Tuesday I had an appointment with the eye doctor, who seemed to be on edge from the minute he saw my belly. He asked about my due date and when I said it was a week away, he responded, “Oh, well, we’ll be sure to have you right on out of here as soon as possible.” I told him I went a week overdue with my first and still had to be induced, but he kept staring at me like my water was about to burst all over his newly carpeted floor. I ended up with my quickest eye exam ever.

More and more people are asking me how I’m doing and I have a simple answer to that question: I’m waiting. Sometimes patiently, like late at night when I crawl into bed exhausted. “I want to have this baby soon, God,” I’ll pray as I close my eyes, “but not tonight. Tonight I just want to sleep.” And sometimes impatiently. Like when I’m driving home after a visit to the midwife, who’s told me once again that everything looks “the same as last week.” I know everyone will want a report and it’s not fun to share that there isn’t one. Sky “helped” me pack my hospital bag two weeks ago, and I can’t even remember what’s in it anymore (don’t worry though – we took her stuffed animals out before we put my things in).

It’s hard to wait, especially these days when inductions and c-sections are so common. I get why people are induced as soon as their doctors are willing – the last few weeks of pregnancy are difficult and I’m sometimes tempted to go that route myself. But I think if I was induced now or even on Tuesday (my estimated due date), I’d be disappointed later, especially if I ended up with a long, slow, medicated birth. I figure my body at least deserves a reasonable chance to go into labor on its own. The thought of still being pregnant ten days from now is not a happy picture in my mind, but I’m trying not to dwell on that too much. I can handle being pregnant right now and that’s all I plan to think about today.

I’ve been a bit emotional lately. I suppose that’s normal when you’re nine months pregnant and spend your days chasing after a high-energy toddler. It might even be healthy considering both my father and one of my best friends recently passed away. But the times when I find my eyes filling with tears usually take me off guard. The other day I started crying because my back hurt – not from the pain itself, but because my dad struggled with intense back pain during the last year of his life and I was suddenly overwhelmed by just how awful that must have been for him.

I’ve been a little stressed too. Birth is unpredictable. You can only plan for it so much, and that’s hard for a person like me who doesn’t really like surprises. There’s also been a lot on the calendar lately, and with just a week till my due date I’m entering that phase where I want to do nothing but sleep until the baby comes. Since that obviously isn’t possible right now, I’d at least like to stay home as much as I can. Even little errands are now a major effort.

So I wasn’t looking forward to my agenda this morning – Sky’s eighteen month check-up with the pediatrician, which included two vaccines and a heel prick. Every time I thought about it yesterday I’d get this twisty, churning sensation in my stomach. With my fragile emotions, I figured I’d end up in tears right along with Sky and I was dreading it.

But I actually didn’t cry at all. The only thing running through my mind as Sky’s screams echoed through the office was this: a quick injection is better than a long, drawn-out case of the mumps. My ability to think logically in that moment shocked me. Overall, it was a rough morning, especially for Sky. She didn’t stop crying until she was asleep in her crib at home. But we accomplished our goal, checked the appointment off the list, and I was able to keep myself from spilling my wild emotions all over the pediatrician. Today, I consider that success.