It was 2:00 a.m. on October 1st. The prior day, I had stretched my to do list long into the night, knowing that I would be delivering my son the next day. My sweet friend Ali Roberson, came over and helped me with errands. We cleaned cars, we went to the D.I. and to the grocery store. I finished some projects for work and made sure that plans were made for our children the following day. Not only that, but Jonny also discovered that our Explorer was infested with a troop of larva of some type. So he completely dismantled the car, and scrub the inside, took out the flooring and power sprayed it.
Knowing that you have finished climbing one mountain is a dramatic feet. This mountain of pregnancy was largely apparent by looking at my round belly. We have always wanted to have four children. There have been moments when I felt like five would come to our family, but I always knew there would be four. We were devastated last winter, after learning we were pregnant, only a few short days later, I miscarried. The weight of that loss seemed so heavy. Not more than a few people even knew of what we were experiencing, and so we mostly carried the burden alone. Just a few short months later, we learned that we were pregnant with Ben. I worried along the way that this pregnancy would turn out in the same way as the last. Through priesthood blessings, lots of prayers, and a loving Heavenly Father, I was able to carry a beautiful, healthy little boy.
This pregnancy had a poignancy to it, I believe it will be our last. Along the way, I recognized it was the last first time I would feel his kicks, and hiccups. It was the last first ultrasound, and the last delivery. I had a terrible time with my pelvis. The front part of my pelvis, where the cartilage is designed to keep the bone together, was splitting open. With every new ounce put on by my baby, the pressure and agony continued to grow. Thank goodness I have a great chiropractor! He helped me endure the pregnancy to the best of my ability. There were some days that I could not walk. Other days I could hobble around. Pain has a funny way of helping you realize your great blessings, and knowing that you are alive.
The last month was particularly difficult. The week before I delivered, I awoke one morning, and could not hardly put any weight on my legs. That day was filled with many tears. I felt inadequate in so many ways to accomplish what was before me. And yet, all I could do was pause, and take care of my body. I could not work, or provide, or clean, or nurture others. All I could do was rest.
That day, I was cuddled up on my bed. I always like to lay on my side, a pillow between my legs. I was laying down, facing our bedroom door. As tears were streaming down my face, I fell in and out of prayer, and sleep. “Heavenly Father, please help me endure this challenge. Heavenly Father, please help me. Heavenly Father, can you send Grandma Joy to comfort me?” A few weeks prior Jonny had given me a blessing, when he gave our children a back to school blessing. In the blessing he promised that there were angels who are ready to come minister to me, all I had to do was ask. He also spoke of our unborn child. He was a valiant spirit, eagerly awaiting to come to our family. He was determined. And he would be perfectly healthy. And so this day, as I lay in bed, I asked for my angels to come to me and help me endure.
This house was still, no one else was home except for me. My eyes were closed. I sensed someone walking into my bedroom, so I opened my eyes to say hello to my sweet husband. No one was there. My heart was calm. I again recognized the presence of someone in the room. At first this person walked in through the door, and then stood tall by my bed. It was a full grown man. He was tall in stature, with broad shoulders. He was a gentle soul. It was my sweet baby, come to me as an angel, in his full measure of creation to comfort me. He did not speak to me, but simply stood at my side. I know that he knew of the pain I was in, and he knew it was because of the pregnancy. I could sense his gratitude for bringing him into this world. And I felt peace. That was the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.
The night before Jesus Christ was born, a prophet, Nephi was praying fervently to Heavenly Father. It had been nearly five years since the prophet Samuel the Lamanite had stood on the Nephite’s wall to declare that a sign would be given, a day and a night and day without darkness. This sign was an indication that the Savior was born in the Holy Land. Wicked men sought and came into power of the Nephites. They declared that if this sign did not appear, that all the believers would be put to death. And so the day had nearly arrived that the prophet, and all the followers were going to die, if the sign did not come. That night in humble prayer, Nephi knealt pleading with the Lord, on behalf of his people, to help preserve life. Jesus Christ appeared to him, in his full measure, as a full grown man, and told him that on the morrow, the sign would appear. That he was the Savior, and that through him all man kind would be saved.
As I sit here now, just two and a half weeks after delivering my sweet baby. I recognize that his small frame, and gentle spirit, is full of life much older than I can see. He has wisdom, experience, testimony and light. While he has forgotten all of that now, that doesn’t diminish his worth, or value. I am the blessed on to be given the opportunity to love and nurture his mortal frame, to recognize what his spirit already knows. While it is I who now do the comforting, the feeding, and the changing, it was he who came to comfort me in the hour of my greatest need.
We had planned to do an induction on October 1st.
It was 2:00 a.m. I awoke, as I usually did to use the restroom. Being in a fuzzy daze, I recognized that I had been having contractions in my sleep. At 3:00 my contractions started coming in hard. Having experienced one round of false labor, I decided to have a bath to try to relax. At this point Jonny woke up, got out his iPad, and started timing the contractions. 5 minutes apart, 4 1/2 minutes apart, heavy pain descended with each one. Jonny called Rob to come watch the kids. We finished scrambling to get ready, and were out the door.
Every few minutes, everything tightened, and squeezed. The night was still upon the city, no one seemed to be out, and yet the red lights still managed to stop our flow to the hospital. One, two, three hospitals were passed on our way to St. Mark’s hospital in Millcreek. Contractions continued to get harder and harder. At State Street, Jonny nearly drove through a red light, understanding that a cop would happily be our escort to the hospital, however, getting pulled over would be slower than an escort would help, we waited, through another excruciating contraction.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, I knew there was no early way that we could park downstairs and walk to the elevator and to labor and delivery. I was in full blown labor, the thought of transporting myself seemed devastating. And so Jonny pulled up to the second floor, a security officer grabbed a wheel chair, and helped escort me, through my heavy breathing to the right department. After Jonny ran downstairs with the car, and flew upstairs as fast as he could, I had begun checking in.
A heavy contraction, lots of breathing, Oh my goodness, I don’t think I can do this!!…Tears began to stream down my face, as I tried to tell the nurses who I was. “Hi, what can we do for you?”
“I am in labor…..” I exhausperatingly said through my tears.
“Just focus on your breathing, we’ll wait til this one is over.”
A few more seconds, and that one passed. “My name is Sarah Johnson, I was scheduled to be induced today.”
They checked me in, and escorted me to a room, #9. The closest room to check in.
A nice lady took me in, gave me clothes to change into. Once ready, she checked my cervix, I was only at a 5, and 100% effaced. His head was only at a +1. I thought we were in for several more hours. And so before I got too tethered, I asked if I could go to the restroom. She had already inserted the IV, we took that out, along with the oxygen monitor, and baby monitor. I hobbled to the bathroom with Jonny, through these horrible contractions.
I sat down on the cold toilet to pee. A bad contractions, lots of breathing, tooted a little. And then all of the sudden a great descention took place. I could feel my baby drop, like the swooping of the Tower of Terror elevator. A great escape of pressure into my pelvis came rushing in.
“Something is happening!” I holler!
The nurse rushes in, “We need to get you back to your bed.” She pulls the emergency chord and the masses of hospital staff descend into my room.
I stand up with the nurse and Jonny’s help. I feel like there is some type of pendulum swinging between my legs. “Is there toilet paper stuck to my bum or something, what is that?” I ask.
The nurse looks, and sees that my water sack had come out of my body, in tact. And was hanging between my legs. A bit of panic ensued in me, only interrupted by a fierce gust of muscles hardening in my belly. Breath. Breath. IN and out. Just breath. Everything else pauses as the pain takes over every fiber of my being.
I am transported back to time when I hear the nurse say with a calm but urgent request, “Sarah, we have to get you back to the bed.”
Standing in limbo. Pain screaming in every fiber of my being, paralyzing every ounce of my agency, I focused my sight on the bed. Kind of like, when you see a military plan lock target of a missle onto a flying air craft, only in the movies….. My sight was set on the bed, I had zeroed in and locked my trajectory. Through the grace of God, my Almighty Creator, I made a successful landing on the bed. With a great gush, my water broke. Wow! The pain increase ten fold, meanwhile the baby, still lodged and descending. A furry of activity was around me, a doctor walked in to the room, she wore a green gown, a flurry of activity blurred around me. All I could hear, “Sarah, you cannot push yet.” “You are doing a great job, Sarah, keep breathing.”
The burning and ache to release the pressure mounted. Every part of my being wanted to push, wanted to let go of the pressure. My baby was here, he was right here, and I could feel him in a loud and very painful way. Breathing in, and out, in and out. That did nothing to relieve the pressure. My memory bank of breathing techniques came to the forefront, he-heeee, who-hoooo, he-heeee, who-hooo, seemed to help for a second to tether the momentum.
“She can’t hold it back any longer, ” the nurse declared to someone… and left my side.
I grabbed my every faithful husband, he had been by my side, holding my hand, stroking my back, reassuring me, this entire time. I just needed him close. While I wish someone could have taken the pain away, I just needed him. His body, his presence, his touch to help reassure me. “Jonny, keep talking to me!” I cried out. He came closer to me and reassured me.
The damn broke. I couldn’t hold back. He was here, and he was coming now. My barbaric scream let loose, as a I pushed my baby boy from deep within my body, to the outside world. I pushed with such ferocity as I have never felt. One, two, maybe three pushes, and he was here. A beautiful, white covered purple baby was here. He let out a miniature cry, as they clean him off, weigh him and do his APGAR. “Is he okay? Is he breathing?” I ask fervently.
“Yes, Sarah he is beautiful!”
He is a calm spirit. He is a gentle soul. But I already knew that.
“What just happened?” I ask in a daze. I am in shock over the severity and swiftness of my delivery. Jonny tells me that the doctor barely had time to get in front of the baby, as she was opening a cloth to help catch the slippery baby. She turned, caught the baby, and Jonny’s reflexed flew his hand out, and help catch little Ben. The story was legendary to the nursing staff I later learned. “Oh, you are the one whose husband helped catch the baby.” Yes. That was me.
Legs quivering, they gently lay my naked baby on my bare chest. We are together skin to skin now. And within a few minutes he is nursing. He is here.
What just happened? I keep asking myself, as I play over and over in my mind the events of the day. Pain, gushing, pushing and he was there.
As swiftly as the pain descended upon me, did it disappear. I hardly tore at all. My pain levels all but dissipated throughout that very day. Benjamin hardly cries at all, he is such a calm little guy. He has my lips, he has Jonny’s nose. His eyes are a dark gray/blue, with a ring of light light brown around the iris. He has just a touch of light brown hair, that swirls with my callic in the front. He has skinny fingers, and long toes.
Now that he has begun to fatten up, his cheeks are bulging, and he has a bit of a double chin. What a beautiful little creature he is.
Bearing and delivering children is not an easy task. It has tested me to my very limits. Fatigue is possibly the hardest part for me right now. Tears overtake my good reason quite often. I have been plagued with a feeling of inadequacy, knowing that I can hardly accomplish a fraction of what I should be.
But this moment is fleeting, and all too soon, my children, all of them, will be grown and gone. Work will iron itself out, the house will one day be clean, and for now I need just to focus on nurturing myself, my baby, my children and my family.
