Birth Story: Part Seven--The final chapter

(Written by the husband)

The epidural doctor had the social skills of a hitman. No time for conversation, he sat his equipment down on the table and immediately began putting his tools together. Judy asked me to stand in front of Abby so she could lean forward onto me.

“Actually I want everyone to sit down” the hitman said assertively. Judy, who was in charge, didn’t have to listen to him, and she took my place standing in front of Abby.

“Scoot back”, he told Abby.

“I’m having a contraction” she said as she coiled over. He physically slid her back on the table, unsympathetically. “You need to hold still.”

I watched as he gave the epidural. Apparently guys pass out during this part. Well this part, or the other part, at the end. But I didn’t find it difficult to sit through, nor would I find the other part, at the end, difficult to sit through. I think it had something to do with the fact that this had been a day-and-a-half long journey, and at that point, an ending becomes the best thing you can imagine.

The epidural started to kick in. Judy told us that the game plan was for Abby to get some rest, that she would need it for the pushing. Abby and I were supposed to try to sleep for a few hours, while the contractions continued. The epidural should allow her to sleep through them.

What I didn’t know was that Judy was worried. Things weren’t progressing, and the epidural was the last trick in the bag. Except for a C-section. The nurse showed me a button that Abby could push to give herself some extra medicine through the Epidural IV. “It only works once every ten minutes, maximum of three doses an hour”, she told me. They left us alone in the darkened room.

I laid next to her on a reclining chair that’s supposed to turn into a bed. It doesn’t. It just turns into a flat reclining chair. So I just watched her. She would tense up a lot during contractions. I showed her the button she could push for extra medicine. She pushed it and it beeped. It wouldn’t be long before more pain would come, and she would fumble in the dark for the button. But it wasn’t giving her anything; she had already used up her allotted amount. This broke my heart to see. Why was she still in so much pain, even with the epidural?

I started thinking about how much I had prayed for her cervix to dilate during this whole process. I thought about how much Abby had prayed for a birth center birth. I started asking myself whether prayers ever really get answered, or if it’s just coincidence when they do. This was a hard time for me.

“I feel like I need to push”, Abby moaned. It had only been about 45 minutes since the epidural. I told her that I knew she didn’t have a concept of the passage of time right now, but it hadn’t been very long. I paged the nurse anyway.

“Can I help you?”
“Hi, my wife feels like she needs to push”, I said disbelievingly.
“Great! I’ll tell the midwife!”

I expected Judy to come in and tell us that it hadn’t been long enough, tell us that we need to keep resting. But Judy’s spirits were high, and she entered the room like it was Christmas morning. She climbed on the bed and began to examine Abby.

Judy turned and looked at me. “God is good! Can you say ten centimeters!!!”

I couldn’t believe it. Abby was right, she did need to push.

Everyone got into their positions. I stood next to Abby’s head.
“Ryan, I need to you hold Abby’s leg”, said Judy.

Turns out I was going to watch our baby be born. This is something I didn’t think I had the courage to watch. But like I said before, when the journey is this long, the thought of reaching the finish line becomes everything.

She pushed for about 45 minutes, and then…

He was born.

I couldn’t believe it when I saw arms and legs, feet and fingers. It was a whole person.

“Tell her what it is Ryan!” said Judy.

I was so shocked that it was a whole person, I had forgotten to check the gender.

“It’s a boy,” I said.

He was immediately laid on Abby’s stomach. He cried and cried and cried, for so long that we all started laughing. Then, suddenly, he made peace on his mother’s chest and he wouldn’t cry again for the rest of the night.

I cut his cord, and eventually, after he and Abby had bonded for a long time, he was weighed and measured and cleaned.

I overheard Judy telling the nurse that she was praying for the birth when she had left the room earlier. “I wonder if midwives pray more than any other medical professionals?” she smirked.

Ezra had made it. “God is good”, I thought to myself.



(Midwife Judy with Abby and Ezra)