Birth Story #3: Kindness, Peace & Provision

Baby #3 has arrived and, since it’s been helpful in the past for me to write out my stories, I want to do so again.

The Pregnancy

When we found out we were pregnant with #3, I had a pretty good idea of which provider I would choose. We’ll just call him Dr. A. Since I knew I needed to have a repeat cesarean this time around (by the recommendation of not just the doctor who delivered baby #2, but also my midwives), I figured it best to go with an OB. Dr. A is known in our area as being one who does gentle c-sections and he’s also supposed to be a very good surgeon.

After some headaches with the hospital just getting into their system, I finally was able to meet with Dr. A.

Around 20 weeks, we had an ultrasound. I really wanted to be surprised about the baby’s sex this time. Baby #1 was a surprise, but when she was born, no one said “it’s a girl!” I had to ask repeatedly and that was one of the many disappointing aspects of that traumatic birth experience. I was hoping to redeem that this time around. At the ultrasound, we got to see our sweet little one moving around and we were pleased to find that baby seemed healthy and strong.

After the ultrasound we shared some of the photos. To my disappointment, someone who looked at one of the ultrasound pictures commented that baby sure looked like a boy! I hadn’t even been paying attention to that part of the photo and was sad because that person did seem to be right… meaning the baby’s sex was probably no longer a surprise.

But, like God often does, He took that disappointing event and used it for good! That experience helped me realize that, up until that point in my pregnancy, I was kind of just coasting along, letting things happen without really actively deciding things. Had I been proactive in understanding why being surprised was important to me, I may have made a plan that would have prevented the problem altogether.

I came to realize that, moving forward, is need to be more proactive if I wanted things to go a certain way.

I started to wonder if there really was no chance I could try again for a VBAC. I figured probably not. But, at the same time, I wanted to understand why. The answer I’d been given until that point was basically simply “well, you had a uterine dehiscence last time.” I wondered if there was anyone else who might explain more about the dehiscence (my research showed that there’s not necessarily reason to avoid VBACs altogether after a uterine dehiscence). I wanted to know details! But neither Dr. A nor anyone else was providing me with the details I needed. In short, I started to wonder about getting a second opinion.

I contacted my doula from birth #2. She told me about a birth she’d recently attended. It was a TOLA2C. And the OB? A VBA2C-friendly Milwaukee doctor named Dr. W.

I also started to think about my birth plan and the things that I wanted in this birth. And I started addressing those things with Dr. A. One thing that was important to me was to wait until baby was ready to have the c-section, rather than just scheduling it for 39 weeks regardless. This was especially a concern because Dr. A calculated my due date as May 17, when it was in fact May 20. If we scheduled a cesarean for 39 weeks, it would have landed on what was actually 38.5 weeks. When I addressed this concern with Dr. A, he insisted that we leave my due date recorded as May 17. When I asked if we could wait until labor began to do the c-section, he looked at me like I had four heads, and, exasperated, finally said “ok, sure, fine, if that’s what you want I can do that.” The moment I got that condescending answer was the moment I knew I didn’t trust Dr. A to be the one there to help deliver this baby.

So, at 26 weeks, I showed up at Dr. W’s office (located an hour from home) with all my post-op records in hand. I knew I liked Dr. W from the moment I met him. He looked thoroughly through my records. He thoughtfully considered each aspect of what he read. Then he pulled out a diagram of a uterus and explained to me all the factors that influenced his recommendation. Despite being slow to jump to medical interventions, and even with a cesarean rate under 15%, he, for reasons beyond just the dehiscence, believed a c-section to be the best course of action. (He said if the dehiscence had been the only factor, he would have encouraged a VBAC. In my case, however, there were many other issues to consider.)

Meeting with Dr. W was a breath of fresh air. Even though he confirmed that, yes, I’d need a c-section, I was encouraged by his approach in many ways:

• He is the first doctor who has ever listened to the story of my first birth with compassion in his eyes.
• He is the first doctor who has ever acknowledged that “You’re right. They didn’t give you a fair chance at a vaginal birth and I’m so sorry that happened.”
• He is the first doctor who was willing to sit and talk as long as I needed to explain in-depth the answers to my questions and actual evidence-based recommendations for my particular situation.
• He wasn’t bothered in the slightest when I said I wanted to wait until early labor started to head to the hospital for my cesarean (rather than scheduling ahead).
• He attends all of his patients’ births - whether he’s “on call” or not.

As the weeks progressed, I continued to be sure of my choice to switch to Dr. W. Still, I had a hard time embracing the idea of a repeat cesarean. I sent the following email to some friends that articulates well where I was at:

Most of you know at least some of my birth story history. Anyway, I have a prayer request regarding this coming birth for baby #3. As most of you know, I will 99% likely be having another cesarean. This will be either whenever contractions become regular or May 25, whichever comes first.

I’m not doubting that this is the right plan at this point. I feel comfortable (rationally) with this being the best way to go given the situation, and it’s what has been recommended by multiple providers (both OBs and midwives) who I trust. 

However, I’m still just not thrilled about the idea of being cut open again. I balk at the concept of my child’s birth being more in the “major medical procedure” category than the “natural occurrence” category. So my main prayer request in this regard is simply that God would work in the next however many days before baby arrives to bring me from my current place of resigned acceptance to a place of deeply-felt peace with doing things this way (essentially closing the door to ever experiencing a natural birth).

The Delivery 

Soon enough, the day arrived! God was so kind - He allowed our little one to arrive on one of the days I was hoping for. May 15 and May 24-26 were the only dates that wouldn’t involve some sort of conflict. So I was grateful that God granted my request.

Many friends prayed for me. The following is a prayer I received via text that morning at the hospital:

Lord, give Christi peace today. Help her rest in the process of bringing this baby safely into the world. If possible, give her the desire of her heart, and if that is not safe, then help her heart desire what You’ve allowed.

Give the doctor and his team all the wisdom they need to keep both Christi and the baby healthy.

Help Christi and Eric be a light for You in the hospital, glorifying Your name while knowing how and when to speak up for what Christi and the baby need.

Thank you for the blessing of this baby. You have formed “him” lovingly for the last nine months, and we can’t wait to see Your beautiful handiwork.

In the name of Jesus who died so we could have life, Amen

I arrived at the hospital around 7:30am. Because I ate breakfast (I’m a firm believer in not giving birth on an empty stomach!), I had to wait in the triage room all day playing games on my phone against Eric - haha! I did spend some time journaling and I wrote a note to our baby too.

I texted quite a bit with a dear friend who is a doula - she was a long-distance support to me! I also was living on the edge: I drank water throughout the day despite being told not to eat or drink. I’m such a rebel!

Another friend sent this text with a verse that stuck with me while I waited:

Praying for your heart to have only peace and joy as you trust in your loving Creator who has provided this particular means of bringing your babies safely into your arms! ❤️
Psalm 34:8
Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!

In the late afternoon, after getting postponed twice, it was finally time to meet the baby!

Dr. W and the anesthesiologist met with me before the surgery to go over my birth plan again and ensure they were accommodating all my requests.

When I walked into the room they had my music playing. While they prepped me we talked about the music. One nurse, Janean, heard this Josh Garrels song I had on my playlist and it had been her wedding dance song. That was special for me because it’s kind of an obscure song to begin with, and also probably meant the nurse is a Christian. It’s interesting looking back; the music ended up being a more significant part of the story than I’d expected.

Not having labored first, I was alert and very present. I stayed just as alert even after my spinal block, and every step the doctors took in the surgery prep was explained thoroughly. They told me what to expect. I asked lots of questions: “what’s that slimy stuff you’re putting on me?”

Then Eric came in and sat by my side. He read Bible verses and talked with me. Gosh, I feel like I can do anything when that man is by my side.

While they were doing the surgery, they were asking more questions about the music. One nurse (the one taking the pictures) commented she liked that I included Pride & Prejudice soundtrack. Dr. W asked who was playing when Secret Garden came on.

At 5:02pm, I felt a deep tugging sensation, heard baby cries and Eric’s declaration: “It’s a boy!” They immediately placed Josiah on my chest while this perfectly fitting song played in the background.

While Josiah was on my chest I cried happy tears and just kept telling Eric how happy I was. This is how all (non-emergency) c-sections should be!

After about 10 minutes they took Josiah to weigh him and take care of some things and then Eric got to hold him - our precious boy.

Sewing me up took longer than I thought. I started to get bored/impatient and wanted to just get to my room with my baby! But they finished the job well and thoroughly (even repairing my diastasis recti), so I’m grateful for that.

God really answered our prayers for peace. Of course I’d love to have had a vaginal birth but in a way this was merciful because I was able to have exactly what I wanted/expected and there’s actually mercy too just in the fact that I already know what c-section recovery is like so afterwards I didn’t have to deal with unfamiliar territory.

In the end, though, the peace mainly took the form of simple contentment… almost a good sort of complacency. The peace we all prayed for didn’t come in the form of some sort of deeply-felt spiritual experience. It was more of a quiet, ordinary acknowledgement. When I think about Josiah’s birth, the method of delivery surprisingly matters very little to me. I’m so grateful that God gave me peace that passes all understanding. By giving me a birth team that accommodated my (not unreasonable) wishes, and by working on my heart response, God allowed this birth story to be one of true peace.

This was posted in my Bible reading challenge group this week and it perfectly describes the peace I'm talking about.

The Days Afterward

In the days that followed, I distinctly felt God’s arms holding me - in the form of people He placed around me.

When the pain was unbearable, God held me up through this prayer and a verse from friends:

Dear God, you gave your body so that we could be your children. You know exactly the pain Christi is going through. Please give her relief and more of yourself. Draw especially close to her and her family today. Amen. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18

When a visit from family was cut short because 20 minutes was all I could handle, God ensured that, through His people, I was met with grace.

When I needed rest, God provided Emily, our gentle and caring night nurse.

Emily

When my older kids needed care for five days straight, God’s faithful care took the form of four loving parents who willingly put aside their plans to watch our children (and prune the bushes, and weed the garden, and do the laundry, and clean the house).

When sweet Josiah needed to get more milk faster, God gave us Kathy, a sister in Christ (as well as lactation consultant) whose joy it is to help moms and babies.

Kathy

When my girl graduated preschool when I was only 6 days postpartum, God’s love took the form of dear family coming alongside us to make the day so very special for her when I didn’t have the capacity for decorations and cupcakes.

When we were weary, spending our days running on fumes, God fed our physical bodies with food provided by our village: His Church. And He fed our souls with His Word: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”

There’s an Andrew Peterson song that articulates this so beautifully. This is what the Church is. Let us not grow weary.

They flew us down to Oklahoma City

Yeah, but I could hardly stand there on the stage

So sick I couldn't speak

And the fever wouldn't break

But when I stepped up to the microphone I heard it

It was the voices of the brothers at my side

They were singing out my song

When the song in me had died

Oh, shine your light on me

And the servants of the secret fire

Were gathered there

The embers of the ages

Like a living prayer

And all at once I saw the shadows flee

Shine your light on me, on me

Be a light unto my path

And a lamp unto my feet

My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 3

The Learning Points

(Before reading, you may want to check out Part 1 and Part 2)

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So, as I mentioned, it was clear that God was protecting baby #2 and me in our crazy labor and delivery!

There are many things I've been learning as a result.

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I am still sad my deliveries had to happen this way.

My doula told me about a website called Surrender Birth, where people share their birth testimonies. She encouraged me to write my own (hence these posts).

Anyway, as I read these testimonies, I sensed some bitterness when I read the stories that were along these lines: "I've never felt as close to God as I was during my delivery! It was magical and went exactly the way I wanted—home birth in the birth pool and everything! What an answer to my fervent prayers!"

Or this mom who accidentally had a natural birth. (How is THAT fair?!)

I've spent a bit of time fighting that bitterness and the "why couldn't I just be one of those women who can birth naturally?" question. I've visited Scriptures that remind me who I am and who God is... like the end of Job. He gives and takes away. 

Why does God say "no" to anyone about anything? 

Why are there some who can't have kids at all? 

Why are there some whose loved ones die too young? 

I get that, in the grand scheme, my problem is small compared to some others. But that doesn't mean I don't still have to process through the Big Question: Why pain? 

I've spent some time reading The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis to grapple with this question more. This Big Question is something I've been wrestling with for the past few years, as many friends and family have passed away in the past few years as well.

I still don't have all the answers. But God's been humbling my heart to come under His sovereign authority over all things—life, death, and birth stories.

Job 42:1-3 - 
Then Job answered the Lord and said: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.

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For a while at first I felt embarrassed that this VBAC I talked about wanting so badly was not something I ended up accomplishing. People kept asking about it, and I sometimes I felt a little silly having to tell everyone it didn't work out how I'd hoped.

I've had to wrestle with that a bit, too. There's simply nothing to be embarrassed about. 

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As I mentioned in Part 2, they (not just the OB's, but the midwives, too) told me no more VBAC attempts—only c-sections from now on. That was sad news to hear.

But it also helped to provide closure for me. No more wondering or open-endedness. Just a closed door that I can fully grieve now, which is a blessing in a sense.

And the planner in me intends to fully enjoy the benefits of a scheduled cesarean next time, like lining up all my babysitters and getting a good night's sleep beforehand!

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There are so many Small Kindnesses from God that I'm thankful for and don't want to overlook. Some of the many (besides the main one—that God obviously protected our lives—and my ability to continue having more children) include:

• The entire staff at Mt. Sinai (besides the OB's I had to deal with afterward for an infected incision) was AMAZING. The whole time during labor and delivery I felt heard and respected. With each step the midwives took they explained my options and allowed me to make the decision that I wanted. They were not in a hurry to get the baby out. I knew I could trust them completely. Even the anesthesiologist was wonderful. And every nurse. They just have amazing staff there.
• They gave me time to process and grieve even during the labor, when things didn't go how I wanted. When we decided to have the c-section, I knew better this time. I knew I needed to process. Last time I was whisked away too quickly (and for no good reason, since it was not an emergency) and sobbed the whole way to the OR. This time, I asked to be left alone with Eric and Amanda for a while. I had Eric come sit on the bed and hold me and tell me true things while I cried and let out all the things I was feeling. It was SO GOOD to have that time beforehand to process the surgery before it happened. 
• That awesome epidural that allowed me to still move around easily.
• I had the opportunity to TRY. I know I did everything within my power to make a VBAC happen. The only "what-if" I'm left with is "what if there was no knot in his cord?" There are no other questions like the many I had last time (such as "What if I'd known to choose a different provider or tell this one no?"). I have no regrets and wouldn't do much differently if I could.
• I didn't feel laughed at. I didn't feel like they thought I was silly for trying, or like they were looking down on me or questioning my decisions.
• I got to labor outside in the sunshine on a perfectly beautiful day (something I didn't even know I wanted till it was happening).
• Despite the One Big Request being answered with a "no," there are many specific prayers that God graciously answered with a "yes," just to remind me that He hears me. These "yes" requests—these Small Kindnesses—included: 
• being able to labor in the whirlpool 
• making it past 7cm (where things stopped the last time) 
• being able to experience natural/non-induced contractions
• not having my water break before contractions began
• having Eric with me the whole time
• having Amanda AND Eric in the OR (not typical)
• having Eric present for everything they did to the baby
• Recovery has been a thousand times better this time—even with the infected incision and much resulting antibiotic ridiculousness. I'm much more able to do things and feel already at three months the way I felt at a year or more after my oldest was born. I think this is because I'm pretty sure I had mild PPD (postpartum depression) after my first delivery, which is not the case this time. Now, I'm like "What?! You mean I can feel mostly like my normal self and not living in a dark cloud after having a baby?! I had NO IDEA!"
• Amanda (my doula) was able to be present for the actual birth. This was a concern because she had to leave a few times since my labor was so long. But when the actual birth happened, she was there for it.
• My little guy has been a super nurser! He had latching figured out from the very beginning and is efficient, too. He's also been a good sleeper overall (despite his recent sleep regression). He's such a happy, low-key, straightforward kid.

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One thing that's been hard/fun/interesting/sad/happy has been the switch to a family of four. Big sister loves him but is also having a rough adjustment period. It's hard to watch her experience grief. It's hard not to give her the time I'd like. But it's fun to see her bond with Daddy in a new way, and to see her love on her brother and learn about babies and how they grow, etc.

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One other thing I've thought about is the fact that, at its root (though perhaps I held it too highly as an idol), the desire for a natural birth is a good thing! After all, vaginal delivery is God's good design and the healthiest route if possible. And the fact that I'm disappointed it didn't happen makes a lot of sense.

We were created for heaven, so life under the sun is bound to be less than what our hearts long for (recent Ecclesiastes sermon series influence there).

When God cursed Eve after the Fall, He said she would bear children in pain. It never says that pain is limited only to the pain of contractions and pushing. It very well can be the pain of births not going as planned, of surgery and resulting complications, etc. it also never says anything about my being exempt from the effects of the Fall.

It is my hope that, as I process through these ideas, my "mad at God" attitude will continue to dissipate and become instead humility and a longing for That Day.

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Well, there it is, guys. My whole birth testimony. I hope you can see how I can call it a TOLAC Success Story despite a repeat cesarean, and I hope you enjoyed reading these posts! It helped me so much to write them.

If you had a disappointing delivery or a difficult recovery, can I encourage you to write out your story? Grab a journal or a computer... and just write away. It can be so therapeutic. I'd be happy to read it if you want to share ♥

My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 2

Birth #2: A Second Chance. And a Chance to Trust Him.

Before reading, check out Part 1 here.

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In August 2015, we found out we were pregnant again!

I'd known since the day I had my daughter that I'd want to try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). I also knew I would need to go with a different provider if that endeavor were to have any chance at success. 

So I opted for a group of midwives in Milwaukee (45 minutes away). They came highly recommended by the doulas in my ICAN group.

I could tell at my prenatal appointments that this experience would be totally different. They had a very mom-centered approach to childbirth.

I hired an amazing doula (Amanda).

I did everything a woman should do if she is trying for a VBAC.

And then the day arrived!

Here's how it all went down. It's a long story, because it was a long labor.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

6:00 pm (hour 0)
Contractions became regular and increasingly stronger while we celebrated an early Mother's Day with Eric's parents.

9:00 pm (hour 3)
JM was in bed for the night after I dawdled putting her to bed because I knew this was the last time I would with her being my only baby. I tried to sleep as best I could despite increasing contractions.

Sunday, May 8, 2016 (Mother's Day)

4:00am (hour 10)
I could no longer sleep through contractions. They were 4 minutes apart and a minute long, which is typically indicative of active labor. So we called my in-laws and our doula and headed to the hospital (a 45-min drive). Amanda met us there.

6:30am (hour 12.5)
It was determined that, though completely effaced, I was only 1/2 cm dilated. How discouraging! But, I was trusting God—and my providers—to help me persevere. We walked around the hospital for a bit to try and move things along. We also grabbed some breakfast.

8:00am (hour 14)
I was still only 1 cm, so we went ahead with a membrane sweep, and they told me to leave the hospital until things progressed further (How will I know if things have progressed further if I'm already having contractions 4 minutes apart?!?!). Amanda went home to rest up for when we needed her most.

9:30am-2:00pm (hours 15.5-20)
Eric and I took a nap in the car, then walked around Milwaukee for a while (didn't want to drive all the way home just to have to drive all the way back). We walked around the Marquette campus (Eric gave me a tour of his alma mater), while I did some exercises that my doula sent me.

It was a beautiful day and laboring in the sunshine on that beautiful campus was therapeutic for me. The tulips were in full bloom, and the way the sun hit them had them shining golden, violet, and red like jewels.

I would close my eyes and lift my face to the sun during contractions, and I could feel God's tender care for me through the warmth and light. These moments were glimpses of the "ideal birth" I'd always pictured: intensely painful, to the point that it brought me into some other realm of being where I could commune with God and fall completely dependent into His arms.

Eric and I held hands and talked about anything and everything. It was like your typical perfect date... um, except for the being in labor part. That part was not typical date material.

By the time we finished our sweet onion chicken teriyaki sub from Subway, my head was swirling with the pain, contractions were closer, and it all felt unbearable.

2:30pm (hour 20.5)
We went back to the hospital, where they found I was at 1.5 cm (womp womp). They brought me to a labor and delivery room (even though I was still technically not admitted) because triage was full. They wondered if baby was nudged in wrong, hindering dilation—possibly posterior. So I labored on a birthing ball, continued doing the Miles circuit as best I could, and also tried to get some rest.

6:30pm (hour 24.5)
I was sent home for the night. Things were simply not progressing very quickly. Despite it feeling otherwise, I was still in early labor. But going home only produced a ton of anxiety for me. I felt like I was going backwards.

7:30pm (hour 25.5)
When we got home, the neighbors were having a huge, loud party (seriously—there was even a bouncy house). Some kids were coming into our yard, and I yelled at them as if I was a grumpy old man. Our landlord (who lives upstairs) saw us arrive and was concerned there was no baby yet. All of our parents were there because they were switching who was watching our daughter. It was good to see them and to see my little lady, but the commotion was more than I could handle being in labor. Soon enough everyone left and the party next-door died down. I ate some lasagna from the freezer.

9:00pm (hour 27)
I called my angel chiropractor and met her at her office way after hours for a middle-of-labor adjustment to try and get my little guy in the right position to descend. I then tried to get some sleep—and failed miserably.

11:00pm (hour 29)
Around midnight things got super-intense. I couldn't handle the contractions. They were super-long, and I wasn't getting any breaks in between them. I could no longer breathe through them well on my own. Life was basically one big contraction at this point. So we went back to the hospital. I called my doula, who joined us there—again.

Monday, May 9, 2016

12:00am-3:00am (hour 30-33)
I was 1.5 cm and stayed in triage for a while with Nancy, the midwife who was on shift at that point.

4:00am (hour 34)
I was finally admitted to the hospital at 2 cm after baby descended a bit more.

5:00-6:30am (hours 35-36.5)
I got to labor in the whirlpool. I finally got to relax for a while. It was so desperately needed. I'm so grateful I had an opportunity to labor there. My exhausted mind melted into the twinkle lights on the ceiling. I think I may have even gotten some sleep.

6:30-8:30am (hours 36.5-38.5)
I rested in bed, as my contractions had become much more spaced out after the whirlpool (good for resting, bad for progressing). Nicole (one of the midwives I hadn't met and hands-down the best midwife I had the whole time, which is saying a lot because they were all great) came on shift. God was gracious to place her there for this part of my labor. She was amazing. She even let me order oatmeal (which was a big accomplishment, believe me)!

9:30am (hour 39.5)
Nicole took about an hour to thoroughly discuss with me my options for either getting some more rest or speeding things along. I could do some walking (which hadn't accomplished much of anything up to this point), go home (we all saw how poorly that went last time), do therapeutic rest (morphine so you can sleep, essentially), or induce with Pitocin. I opted for induction, as I have had adverse reactions to narcotics in the past and had a relatively high Bishop score that indicated conditions for induction were favorable (basically every factor was cooperating except dilation, which was still only at 4 cm).

11:00am-9:00pm (hour 41-51)
I labored this way all day, for about 10 hours. I spent some time in the shower, and tried many positions in the bed. Labor definitely intensified during this time since they were now Pitocin contractions. I had a lot of back labor, and during every contraction Nicole, Eric, or Amanda would push on my back for counterpressure, which felt so good (relatively speaking, anyway). I could hardly bear contractions without that each time. I really, really wanted to have my Bible verses for labor read to me during this time, but we couldn't find them in our bag. I was disheartened and frustrated about it, but didn't have the wherewithal to communicate how much I needed them. By 8:00pm I was at 4 cm, fully effaced, and at -1 station.

9:00pm (hour 51)
At this point I opted for an epidural. Fatigue was a bigger enemy than any potential results of an epidural. I had the best epidural EVER. The doctor who did my epidural was a total sweetheart—complete night and day from the snarky anesthesiologist who had done the epidural for my first birth. I could barely feel the contractions but was still able to use my legs well enough to change positions pretty easily on my own! I slept well that night, and woke every hour or two to switch sides since gravity was causing the epi to lose effectiveness on either side after a while.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

2:30am (hour 56.5)
We decided to have them break my water and put in an internal monitor to better regulate the Pitocin.

5:30am (hour 59.5)
My IV came out so they put in a new one. They also topped off my epidural since I started to feel too much. Rockstar Amanda went home for a while to care for her kids and get some rest. My backup doula, Eleanor, arrived (she has a British accent, which is essentially always a calming thing).

7:00am (hour 61)
I measured 6 cm. Baby was at -1 station and had some caput (scalp) swelling. Midwife Paul came on shift. I continued to labor in various positions. There were a couple times that baby's heart rate decelerated, which brought in crews of OBs and nurses to help me change position and monitor him until things improved. Those moments were a little scary. We started to wonder what might be causing that and trying different positions to get him off his cord.

8:00am (hour 62)
I reached 7 cm—the point at which labor had stalled with my first labor.

12:00pm (hour 66)
I was 9.5cm and 100% effaced! It seemed like it'd be happening soon! Things were getting so close. Eleanor left and Amanda returned.

1:30pm (hour 67.5)
Things were not looking good. Baby had more swelling on his head, and things had regressed to 9cm and 70%. Something was causing the little guy to move back up instead of descending properly. Paul recommended a c-section. We agreed and opted for the cesarean. We knew something wasn't going right for our baby and just knew it was the right decision. I asked for some time alone with Eric and Amanda.

When all staff had gone, Eric came over and held me in his arms. I cried and cried and cried. I had peace about the decision, but was still grieving the loss of the VBAC I'd wanted. I asked Eric to tell me true things, and he preached the Gospel to me, reminding me who (and Whose) I am. The OB stopped in, asking if I was ready, and I said that I needed a little more time. It was so very good to have the time I needed to cry and grieve in the moment. I'm grateful to have had the realization to know I needed it, and the strength—even after 68 hours of labor—to ask for it. Besides that little "intrusion" from the OB, I did not feel rushed to finish the grieving I needed to do.

3:00pm (hour 69)
They prepped me for the cesarean. I was able to feel too much when they tested the epidural strength so I had to be too drugged to remember the actual operation.

3:53pm (hour 70)
Little Man was born at 3:53pm!

I'd hoped for a family-centered c-section where I'd be awake, have immediate skin-to-skin, etc. That didn't happen because I was essentially on another planet during the surgery. But the first thing I remember upon "coming to" was having my baby placed on my chest to nurse—a welcome change from last time.

While doing the surgery, they found two things that could have been catastrophic had we continued to labor much longer: Baby's cord had a knot in it. (He was a little blue, needed oxygen, and his 1-minute APGAR was only 5.)

AND, my uterine scar had a 7cm window in it that could have become a rupture! So, all in all, it's obvious that God was protecting us, and I'm thankful that He very clearly showed us WHY, which He didn't have to do.

Yes, it was still really disappointing to have another cesarean. And, given the circumstances, all my providers agreed that in the future I should only have cesarean birth(s), which was also disappointing news, as I know that only increases potential risks and complications... and major surgery is no walk in the park.

But, I'm grateful for God's protection and His clarity in showing me the "why" and in clearly closing that door. In some ways, it'a a relief to at least know the door is closed, so I can fully grieve and move on. I will always wonder what would have happened had I had a different experience with birth #1 (what if I'd been able to wait for labor to begin naturally, what if I'd waited to agree to the c-section to see if things progressed more, etc.), but I simply must take this as an opportunity to trust that God knows what he's doing and allowed all of it to happen that way for a reason. He could have given me more knowledge about my options back then, but He didn't for a reason. And I know my God, and I know He's trustworthy and perfect. I know He's faithful. So, despite the questions, in the end, that's all I need to know.

::::::::::::

read part 3 here....

My Birth Testimony: A TOLAC Success Story - Part 1

NOTE: If you are currently expecting your first baby, you may want to use caution in proceeding with reading this. Just because I had a traumatic experience with my first birth does not mean you want to hear about it in this season of your life!

Did I have a second c-section? 

Yes. 

Was my TOLAC (Trial of Labor After Cesarean) successful? 

Yes. 

The two are not mutually exclusive. 

After my second birth, my doula pointed me to the Surrender Birth website. She encouraged me to write a birth testimony. 

Thing is, my birth testimony starts about three years ago, when we were newly pregnant with #1...

Birth #1 and My Heart

We found out we were pregnant with our little Poppyseed in May 2013. Hooray! 

Like many women, I started excitedly making plans. I figured I should probably get in to see a doctor soon, so I asked a few friends for recommendations and picked an OB who seemed good and was in my network. 

In retrospect, I wish I'd taken a lot more time to choose the right provider for me and my birth. Many OB's in the United States today are simply do not have the same birth philosophy I do. Or, perhaps a better way to say it is that most are in a different place on the natural birth/medical intervention spectrum than where I'm at on the spectrum. 

But I didn't know. I didn't know that provider and place make a HUGE difference in your birth experience.

Or I underestimated how important it would be to me to have a positive birth experience.

Or perhaps it was simply that I wasn't used to how very medical everything is when you are at the hospital... I just wasn't prepared for IV's, BP cuffs going every 15 minutes, nurses coming an and out every time I closed my eyes to rest...

There's so much more I could say than the following, but the story of birth #1 is as follows:

I had a very traumatic birth experience. I had wanted a completely natural, unmedicated, vaginal birth. Unfortunately, this dream of a natural birth was shattered. 

Worse, I did not often feel respected, valued, or genuinely cared for as a patient during my six days at the hospital. I truly believe that no one person, but rather the system in place, is at fault for this outcome.

After my water broke on January 27, 2014, we headed straight to the hospital to be induced (as instructed). After about 9-10 hours of laboring this way (which included sweet moments of God bringing Scripture to mind as I labored), I opted for an epidural (those nasty Pitocin contractions!). Around 36 hours after my water had broken, they told me I had been at 7cm for several hours. They thought I should have a c-section because "things weren't progressing." 

So I did what they said. Because I figured it's probably best to listen to the doctor. I didn't know there were other equally safe options. 

I hadn't written an "in case of c-section" birth plan. Because I didn't know there are different ways to do c-sections. They didn't cover that in the hospital birth class.

And I sobbed the whole way to the operating room.

Laying, cold, on a hard operating table.

In a fog, spiraling amidst bustling.

Then, baby cries!

No one said "It's a girl!" I had to ask. And ask. And ask. Repeatedly.

No snuggles.

No celebrating.

Just a brief glance.

And then whisking my baby away.

Then waiting over an hour before I got to see my husband or by baby.

In the following days...

Nurses waltzing into the bathroom talking on the phone while I'm peeing and would like privacy.

People making me look at paperwork while I'm attempting to nurse and bond with my new daughter.

Nurses asking me, without explanation to breathe into an incentive spirometer while I'm trying to talk with my doctor.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime event I'll remember all my life. 

And for them, it seems just another day in the grind. 

And I sobbed a lot for a long time afterward.

That week in the hospital was the most traumatic experience of my life. I wrote this to a friend about a month later. It gives a pretty accurate picture of how things were for me in the early days after that experience:

It's been a lot to process, because labor and delivery did not go at all how I wanted. I was writing in my journal the other day everything I could remember from my time there, and I realized that I'm angry, because I hardly remember what it was like to hold and feed my baby for the first time. And just the way things are run at hospitals, I felt like I couldn't just be together with my family and enjoy bonding with our new baby.

She really felt like a stranger at first. Our second night at home, I remember sitting on my husband's lap and just sobbing that I just wanted her to go away because she was an intruder and I just wanted to watch a movie with my husband and then go to bed and sleep all night like we'd always done. And then I felt like a terrible mother for thinking such terrible things about my baby.

But things have gotten better now. There was one day that I realized that, since I'm not just doing motherhood for my husband or for my daughter or for myself, but because it is what God has called me to do... that made it easier to do. I don't know if I could have the strength for it otherwise.

It's still hard sometimes. I'm actually sick with sinus stuff right now, so I'm really hoping the baby doesn't catch it. Yay for antibodies in breast milk :) Today was a hard day because my head hurt so much and was all in a fog, so I was not a very attentive mommy... but there was one sweet, cherishable moment when I looked at JM and said, "Sorry I'm being a lame mommy today, sweetie." And she looked at me and gave a big smile :) I'm really glad that happened today in particular.

Grieving it took a long time. I joined the local ICAN chapter. I realized I'm not the only one who has had a disappointing birth experience. I wrote letters to some of the doctors and nurses who were there for my labor and delivery. I met many friends who were grieving their births, too. And when I talked with them, they understood: I needed permission to grieve.

"You should be happy! You have a healthy baby!" Many say.

I may have a healthy baby. But that does not mean I don't have a loss to grieve.

Birth is something inherently part of who a woman is. 

This is something I'm supposed to be able to do! 

This is something women just do.

Why can't I?

I fought bitterness, anger, and feelings of failure for a long time.

I still do, a little bit.

(In retrospect, I've come to realize that I also may have had postpartum depression. I know now that PPD is more common after c-sections and is more common than you might think).

:::::::::::

to be continued....  

(and don't worry; the story gets much happier from here — read Part 2 here)

Gratitude for My Husband

Earlier today, I was thinking about how romantic my life was when I got engaged. Wow. What a great date that was. I was swept off my feet! We danced, he sang, we were adventurous on our scavenger hunt. I ordered whatever I wanted at the restaurant—it was extravagant. It was romantic.

It was not how life is anymore.

Now, I iron his shirts.

And I get excited when we actually clean the whole house in one weekend.

And a trip to Culver's for ice cream is the event of the week.

And then I was tempted to wish for more romance—to say to my husband "why don't we go out on romantic dates anymore?" (Which we still do sometimes, anyway.)

But then I remembered a beautiful post by Ann Voskamp (who speaks much more eloquently than I ever could). It's about "boring" husbands. And it's about how boring is so much more beautiful than chick flick romance.

So I wanted to remember why my husband is wonderful.

I'm a little hesitant to write this post because I don't want it to seem like I'm attempting to brag about how I have the best husband or something.

However, when I see women really appreciating and valuing their husbands instead of criticizing them, it inspires me to do the same. I want to be a wife who pays attention to the eighty percent instead of getting hung up on the twenty percent like I am so often tempted to do.

“A wife, if she is very generous, may allow that her husband lives up to perhaps eighty percent of her expectations. There is always the other twenty percent that she would like to change, and she may chip away at it for the whole of their married life without reducing it by very much. She may, on the other hand, simply decide to enjoy the eighty percent, and both of them will be happy.”
–Lars Gren, husband of Elisabeth Elliot

So, the list below is (certainly not exhaustively) about that eighty percent. These are my husband’s strengths. Your husband’s strengths are probably different. My hubby looks wonderful to me, but please don’t read this list and lament that your husband struggles where mine doesn’t. Think about your own marriage and how your husband is a blessing. I encourage you to make your own list.... and consider the heart behind these words I recently read on a blog: "Be his lover, not his mother!" I think that starts with gratitude.

20 Reasons I'm Grateful for My Husband

1. He loves God more than he loves me. 
2. Because of that, he isn't afraid to tell me when I've been sinful, unreasonable, or hypocritical. But he almost always does so gently, in a way that leads me to think, repent, and trust that God will keep working in me... he does not speak in a way that makes me tell myself that I am a failure and should not be such a bad sinner.
3. When he has time, he washes the dirty dishes before I wake up in the morning.
4. He eats the food I cook. And he thanks me for making it.
5. He's super-adorable with our baby girl.
6. He's not too proud to change a diaper, and is still willing to do so despite the fact that I almost always complain about how he did it.
7. He goes to work every day to provide financially for our family so that I can be at home.
8. He owns his mistakes.
9. He is faithful. I have no fear that he will be unfaithful.
10. He is still there! He doesn't go away, even when I'm being unreasonable, critical, super-emotional, or otherwise ridiculous.
11. He took me to get flowers to plant in the garden for Mother's Day.
12. He loves people equally—a trait I can learn from. He's genuinely interested in people and how they are doing.
13. He tells me he loves me every morning and every night.
14. He is my friend. We like to hang out. We enjoy our conversations. Like the one we recently had about eschatology, Israel, and Isaac & Ishmael. 
15. He teaches his students. He also teaches me. Gently, lovingly. Just like he always did even before we were married and he taught me how to do my taxes and how to play ultimate frisbee and tennis.
16. He balances me out: He has a different perspective that makes me think. He's a big picture guy, I'm a detail girl. Together, we make a great pair. He casts a vision, and I can figure out how to make the vision happen. 
17. I love the vision he has for how to raise and discipline our child(ren).
18. He's snuggly.
19. He deals with the mice. The ones that were in our apartment. He's willing to take care of those things so I don't have to.
20. Let's face it, he's pretty handsome ;)

"What Not To Say": On Infertility

Last week was National Infertility Awareness Week. A friend of mine posted one thing each day last week that people simply should NOT say to those couples who are struggling with infertility. I asked her if I could post her thoughts because I thought it would be beneficial to share.

I'm so grateful that infertility is not something that my husband and I have had to experience. I couldn't even pretend to understand the pain that some couples face when they experience this struggle. But I do want to do what I can to support and encourage my friends as they walk their journeys, whether or not I have experienced them. And I want to remember, most of all, that my child is a sweet, sweet gift... a gift that is precious and not something to be taken for granted.

So, here we are:
National Infertility Awareness Week and "What Not to Say"

1. OUCH!: Why the rush? You're still so young.
   Age doesn't have anything to do with it. Every pregnancy announcement we hear, every baby we see, every expectant mother we sit next to while waiting to see the doctor about our latest test results is a reminder of all we don't have and can't be. Each time a sensitive, caring friend comes to tell you in the privacy of your own home ("before you find out anywhere else") that she is expecting, the only way you can survive it is by promising yourself that you'll be next. But when the next announcement ISN'T yours, it gets harder and harder to believe. I'm not trying to beat my biological clock. I'm trying to beat everyone else's! I'm trying to beat the pain. I'm trying to beat that next horrible blow. I'm trying to beat feeling that unbearable ache one - more - time.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: You will be such great parents!
   Thank you for believing in us! And thanks for the reminder that we will get there eventually. Sometimes it's easy to lose sight of that. We may not get our child in the way we'd always imagined, but one way or another, we will be parents. (Hint: Be sure not to say this to someone who has chosen to remain childless and is healing from that.)
   
2. OUCH!: Have you considered fostering/domestic adoption/international adoption/IVF/embryo transfer/egg donor/surrogate/kidnapping/etc? [Not so much a painful question as just one where the answer seems obvious. Although some do ask this question in a pointed, almost condescending way, as though trying to imply that we're not doing what we should be. That DOES hurt.] 
   Yes. Just yes. Trust me, we've been up and down the list five million times. Anyone going through this is going to explore EVERY option! The truth is that none of these options are ideal. There are unbelievably long waits, deep pain, unknown and frightening risks, incredible expense, questionable ethics, birthparent relationships, and a multitude of other issues no matter which way you turn when you can't conceive naturally. Please trust that we've made the right decision for US.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: How did you arrive at the decision to pursue [insert chosen method of family-building]?
   I'm glad you asked! It wasn't an easy choice, I assure you. Thanks for being interested in our journey!
   
3. OUCH!: Are you really going to do that? Haven't you heard that [insert any manner of negative objection]?
   Yes. I assure you we've read all the reasons we should and shouldn't do everything. We've done our homework, but everywhere you look, you can always find an organization or blog or protestor that is more than happy to tell you why any given choice is wrong. Sometimes you have to look at your options and ask, "Which option gives me the peace in my soul to let me sleep at night?"
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: That must be a tough decision.
   Yes, it is. Thank you for recognizing that. I hope you never have to make it.
   
4. OUCH!: So which one of you has the problem?
   Seriously? If I wanted you to know that, I would've told you. If I'm the problem, I'm not sure I appreciate you being so curious about the failures of my baby-maker. If it's my spouse, I'm really not comfortable discussing his physical issues behind his back. There's no winner to this question. The point is not to blame one person. We are a couple striving for the same purpose and working through the same problem together.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: How is your husband handling all this?
   How kind of you to think of him! Infertility can cause serious stress in a marriage. We're working through it together, and he's been an amazing, supportive husband on those days when I'm a wreck!
   
5. OUCH!: All you need to do is ...
   Okay. I'm going to stop you right there. Because whatever comes out of your mouth next is going to either be incredibly awkward, uninformed, or obsolete, but most likely all three. It's amazing how many people who have never lived through this struggle are happy to advise me to take special vitamins, have my spine adjusted, add a "special ingredient" to my tea, monitor my body temperature, spin around three times chanting in German, or any other number of unhelpful rituals. Everyone and their great aunt has their own "fail-proof" cure. Infertility is a complex medical concern with many causes (many of which are unknown) and many levels of severity.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: I'll be praying for you.
   Sometimes, that's all we need to hear. And sometimes, it's our only hope. Thank you!
   
6. OUCH!: If you would just relax/adopt/stop trying, it'll happen.
   If I had a nickel for every time this was said to me, my costs would be covered. In a perfect world, we could all achieve what we want by closing our eyes, taking a deep breath, and wishing. The human anatomy is complicated. Infertility can be caused by chromosomal, hormonal, mechanical, genetic, disease-related, secondary, or even neural conditions, just to list a few of the physical gears that go into human fertility. But NOT failure to put one's feet up from time to time.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: I hope it happens for you very soon, even if it's in a way you don't expect!
   Thank you. We do too!
   
7. OUCH!: You want kids? You can take a couple off my hands. My kids will change your mind.
   This is probably the most hurtful thing that I ever hear. I know you mean it as a joke and that you're just trying to lighten the mood. I know you love your children. But you have no idea what a slap in the face it is. You have no idea that there's a deep part of me that wants to scream, "YES!" Everywhere you go, you can see parents who don't appreciate or take care of their children - people who just want to be parents when it's convenient. You just want to go tell them all what a blessing they are missing out on because they aren't cherishing their children.
   
   THE BETTER RESPONSE: Wow. Seeing what you're going through makes me appreciate my family more.
   This may sound insensitive to you, but it's the sweetest thing for me to hear. If my pain can do something so beautiful as to remind someone else of their blessings, then it *almost* makes it worth it. Every child should be treasured. Go home and hug your kids a little tighter tonight. Because you know you couldn't imagine a life without them.

The World Overcome

We are so frequently misguided about God's plans. Day by day we measure our progress toward anticipated goals; we judge God's faithfulness and our performance by the proximity of the desired accomplishment. Is everything progressing as it should? Am I getting through this rough patch? Are my kids achieving? Am I paying down my debt? Is my boss finally appreciating me? And then the kids fail (again!); foreclosure looms; we discover that the boss not only doesn't appreciate us, but he's actually considering demoting us. Hold on! we think. This isn't what I signed up for. This isn't right. I've followed God. Where is he now that I really need him? What happened to all the plans we made together?

We suffer because we mistakenly believe that God's goals and our goals are identical. Into this confusion and sorrow, your Savior, who isn't insensible to your pain, speaks. "I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). We think, The fact that I'm going to have tribulation is quite obvious, thank you. And, its nice that you've overcome the world (whatever that means), but how does that help me right now?

The gospel dispels darkness and confusion. It tells me about him, about myself. It tells me that I am in him, and because that's my identity, I can have peace when peace is beyond comprehension. But my experience of peace in tribulation also grows more brightly as I remind myself of the things he taught (John 16:33). He taught these truths so that I might have peace; they shatter my misguided illusions: my selfish ambition, even for his kingdom, is not his goal. Washing feet is. I believe that a pleasant existence free from tribulation will bring me happiness. He teaches that fullness of joy is found in divesting myself of pride and idolatrous desire for pleasure, respect, and comfort.

I think that I am wise and know what's best. His plan confound the wisdom of the wisest man and flay him in the dust. I deceive myself into believing that I deserve better than this. He gently reminds me that I deserve an eternity of excruciating flame eating at my soul and separation from his Son.

Peace begins to fill my soul when I remember the truth of the gospel: I am more sinful and flawed than I ever dared believe, more loved and welcomed than I ever dared hope. I deserve less than nothing but have been given everything.

Jesus Christ has overcome the world. Although it seemed (and still seems) like night would eclipse the light, as though the "ruler of this world" would forever reign, the glorious radiance of the Son is seen with eyes of faith. Peace can flood outsold because our trust isn't misplaced. He has already overcome the world, and it will not triumph over him, and so, by implication, it will not triumph over us either because we are in union with him.

He resisted the temptation to prove his rightful place as Lord of the universe. He perfectly fulfilled every command of the law. He willingly laid down his life in our place and permanently threw open the doors of heaven. He sent the Holy Spirit to comfort and teach us. We're not alone; we're not orphans; he hasn't deserted us. And he has overcome the world through his conquest of our final enemy, death. The resurrection speaks powerfully into our lives when it seems as though the light is about to be extinguished. But this world isn't all there is. What we're seeing right now isn't the end. The one who said, "I have overcome the world," walked through the travail of Gethsemane. He was nailed to a tree, suffered, bled, and died. But then he rose again, breaking the bands of death, and walked with his disciples again. He had overcome! And now he is ruling and overruling at the seat of power by his Father's right hand, there in the flesh like mine and yours. Does it feel like night? Be of good cheer; morning will dawn. He has overcome the world.

From Comforts from the Cross by Elyse Fitzpatrick

Lessons from Pride & Prejudice

A few weeks ago I downloaded a free audiobook of Pride & Prejudice. Listening to the audiobook helped so much in understanding the characters' inner thoughts and the ways their thinking was transformed as the book progressed... so many things you can't quite capture in a film (though the A&E miniseries does a pretty good job!). Here are some quotes that stuck out to me and some thoughts that arose in me about each one:

With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition.

Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time enough. But it was her business to be satisfied – and certainly her temper to be happy; and all was soon right again.

Both of these quotes above remind me that there's something in Elizabeth's character that I can learn from her: "it was her business to be satisfied." Contentment – not fretting over what has been or what could have been – is so important! Oh, that I could say "to fret over unavoidable evils" is no part of my disposition! Lord, help me grow in contentment.

Also in the first quote above, I see Elizabeth being "confident of having performed her duty," at which point she moves on without worrying. I can learn from this... how often we do what we know to be right or believe God would have us do, and then we second-guess ourselves. Let's just live in obedience and trust God with the results!

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. (...) "How despicably I have acted!" she cried; "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself."

And here it is! The moment when Elizabeth realizes how very wrong she was, how hasty in making assumptions about people's character! Oh, that we would not be so hasty; that we would treat others with grace. And, Lord, help us to grieve as passionately as this over our sin. Thank You for dying for all of these petty idols we grab hold of!

But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of good will which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude. – Gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, (...) Such a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but gratitude – for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him; she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.

This one I just love. Look how Elizabeth's feelings toward Darcy have changed! Maybe this was so sweet to me because it reminds me of how I often feel toward my husband, and toward my God for that matter: simply grateful that he still loves me enough to forgive all my wrongs against him. Grace really is amazing.

"Angry people are not always wise."

This one was a good challenge and reminder to me. In context, this is when Miss Bingley keeps putting down Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, as if that would heighten his affections for herself. This would be a good thing to tell myself when I'm acting out of anger or other strong emotions. Just because you feel something strongly doesn't mean you are acting wisely!

He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think how much. (...)  They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything, to him. Oh! how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself. 

Again, just loving the transformation in Elizabeth's thinking toward Darcy.

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!" cried Jane. "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!" 

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time."

"Till I have your goodness, I can never have your happiness." Here is a good reminder that, the more we trust in God, forgiving instead of holding grudges and seeking vengeance, thinking well of people and giving the benefit of the doubt.... the happier we will be ourselves. Plus the end of this quote is just funny!

"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.''

Here we get to hear some of what Mr. Darcy has been processing all along! I love how both Darcy and Elizabeth realize their sin, are repentant (or at least remorseful, since we see not much of an indication in this book of anyone's being Christian or otherwise), and, (finally) humbly give grace to each other. It is a reminder to me of the goodness in repentance and forgiveness in relationships. It also shows us that things will go a lot better if we don't let sin get a foothold in the first place!

A Recipe for Contentment

E.B. Pusey (1800-1882) wrote this "recipe" for contentment, and I read it on my lunch break today. I thought it was so helpful—and worth sharing!

1. Allow thyself to complain of nothing, not even the weather.
2. Never picture thyself to thyself under any circumstances in which thou are not.
3. Never compare thine own lot with that of another.
4. Never allow thyself to dwell on the wish that this or that had been, or were, otherwise than it was, or it. God Almighty loves thee better and more wisely than thou doest thyself.
5. Never dwell on the morrow. Remember that it is God's not thine. The heaviest part of sorrow often is to look forward to it. "The Lord will provide."

From Elisabeth Elliot's book Secure in the Everlasting Arms

The Long Leisure of Eternity

I've been reading a great book of collected short reflections by Elisabeth Elliot. It's called Secure in the Everlasting Arms. I love it! Here's one of the chapters I read today. It helped me to realize a new thing—sometimes lying down is ok, and is God's timing! I'm so glad we can trust Him to carry out to completion the good work He began in us.

In Maud Monahan’s Life and Letters of Janet Erskine Stuart, she describes the long years of waiting on God, and how He took nine years, “with all the long leisure of Eternity,” to bring her to a Guide who would “lead her soul out into paths of confidence and joy.” 

That word helped me to see that some of what I would have called my own stalling and obtuseness may have been the Lord’s own timing. He makes us wait. He keeps us on purpose in the dark. He makes us walk where we want to run, sit still when we want to walk, for He has things to do in our souls that we are not interested in. 

There have been times, on the other hand, when He wanted me to run but I only walked. Let us remember, however, that the Shepherd Himself sometimes makes us lie down. Some of the “delays” are His own choice for us, so we must not always chide ourselves when the pace is not what we thought it should be. We must learn to move according to the timetable of the Timeless One, and be at peace. 

“My times are in Thy hand” (Psalm 31:15 KJV). That is where I want them to be, Father. May I rest in the sure knowledge that my hours and days are safely kept. 

O LOVE BEYOND COMPARE, Thou art good when thou givest, when thou takest away, when the sun shines upon me, when night gathers over me. Thou hast loved me before the foundation of the world, and in love didst redeem my soul; Thou dost love me still, in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust. Thy goodness has been with me another year, leading me through a twisting wilderness, in retreat helping me to advance, when beaten back making sure headway. Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead; I hoist sail and draw up anchor, With thee as the blessed pilot of my future as of my past. I bless thee that thou hast veiled my eyes to the waters ahead. If thou hast appointed storms of tribulation, thou wilt be with me in them; If I have to pass through tempests of persecution and temptation, I shall not drown; If I am to die, I shall see thy face the sooner; If a painful end is to be my lot, grant me grace that my faith fail not; If I am to be cast aside from the service I love, I can make no stipulation; Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial, as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use. 

—From The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, ed. Arthur Bennett