Almost two weeks ago, on Tuesday July 20, Miss Maggie May decided that she might just try to make her grand debut into the world. And there I was - of all places - right in the middle of Lee County District Court.
I was about five minutes away from starting a day long hearing in DSS court. I was standing outside of the courtroom in the lobby making some last minute phone calls to witnesses when all of a sudden I thought, Ohmygod I just peed on myself. No pain, no pressure, no wierd feeling. Really, nothing unusual the whole morning. I thought my bladder had decided to go on vacation right there in the middle of the courthouse lobby. But as I walked through the courtroom to the bathroom, my heart began pounding in my head because I decided that had never happenend before and it might mean something is going on. DID MY DERN WATER JUST BREAK?!! In the bathroom I saw the evidence that something really, truly was not right. Panic set in at that point. The voice in my head was racing, "She's too little. She's too little. She's too little." That's all I could comprehend.
I pulled it together enough to go back into court and whisper to the other attorneys that I thought I was in labor and had to leave. Although, it was likely a dramatic spectacle because I was shaking like a leaf. I remember having complete tunnel vision as I walked across the street to Drew's office. Luckily he was sitting alone at his desk and all I could get out between the sobs was "Pray, Drew, Pray. She's too little." We immediately got in the car en route to the doctor's office. Drew was so amazingly calm. All I could process were mental images of a bony, tiny pink baby covered in tubes and surrounded by machines. Drew was certain that she was big enough to be okay and she would be fine. I'll never forget the last thing he told me before going in to the office, "Anna. Calm down. We don't need to be scaring all these pregnant women in here."
I was quickly taken into the ultrasound room. Of course, the fear was that the sac had ruptured or the placenta had separated, explaining the blood. Seeing her dance around that ultrasound machine brought a tremendous relief. The ultrasound tech and the doctor were both in the room and confirmed that the baby was 100% fine. In fact, she looked great. The amniotic sac and fluid were fine and the placenta was fine. I was so relieved to see my baby girl's heart fluttering on that screen, but I also began to cry because of how badly I didn't want her born right then. I was horrified at the idea of us being separated while she grew big enough to come home. I was more horrified at the thought of her having complications or future health concerns because she was born early.
After the rest of the exam my doctor felt that I was in labor and sent me to the hospital. I was 1 cm dilated and she thought I was having contractions, even though I had no pain. I was hooked up to the monitor at the hospital to detect contractions and it was confirmed that I was having some. They gave me a shot to stop the contractions and a shot of a steroid to help mature Maggie's lungs in the event that she was born. They continued to monitor the contractions to determine whether they had ceased. A few hours later I was still having some and was given another shot. The shots worked to stop the contractions and I stayed at the hospital overnight. The next morning I got another steroid shot and medicine to take every 12 hours to prevent contractions. My doctor came in and explained, in no uncertain terms, that I was on bed rest for the next six weeks. I had to be reclining or laying down and should only get up to eat and use the bathroom. And I was to forget about even thinking about going to work, even to sit at my desk.
My mama told me that God whispers in your ear. If you don't listen, he taps you on the shoulder. If you still don't listen, he hits you on the head with a frying pan. When I was at the hospital, laying there with nothing to do for the first time in perhaps three months, I was suddenly aware of and overwhelmed by what God had just orchestrated. In the previous few months I had lost touch. In May we were overwhelmed with packing up our house to move. Then we moved and were overwhelmed by the work load that produced - the unpacking and getting everything up and running. All the while I still had cases in court, tons of work to do and deadlines on my appellate cases. It was just.too.much. I kept thinking every day, "If I can get a, b, and c done today and x, y, and z done by the end of the week, then I can have some time to rest." All the while, I knew I was not doing what was one hundred percent right. First my body began feeling exhausted. It was all I could do to get up the stairs at the end of the day. I think that was the whisper in my ear. Then, a couple of weeks before the labor scare, I swore the baby had dropped. I kept wondering whether it was a little to early to feel that change, but I did a little "online research" and shrugged it off as normal. Maybe that was the tap on the shoulder? Something it my heart was telling me to sit my rear end down.
I skipped church the two Sundays right before the incident to go to my office and work. I ignored the nagging feeling that I was not doing the right thing and that I didn't want my family to function this way. I justified it by telling myself that I had to get the work done and then, once x, y, and z were done, I could take a day or two off and get back to baseline.
Here's the irony . . . although I really don't think it was "irony" at all. I had a brief due on Monday the 19th and a case in court on the 20th that was really giving me a huge headache. I kept thinking that if I could get through the case on the 20th, then it would be smooth sailing thereafter. Which was actually true. Drew and I had planned to take a day off later in the week to regroup and we were planning something fun for our anniversary on the 24th. Funny that I should go into labor
five minutes before starting that trial. I get it. I AM NOT IN CONTROL.
So, I was hit with the frying pan. Right there in district court, a truly mortifying place to be hit with a frying pan. While bed rest is no day at the circus (except for reading some really good books...more on that later), I am gracious and thankful for the Lord opening my mind and my heart and allowing me to understand that I was so consumed with getting things done that I was unable (okay,
unwilling) to listen.
I always imagined myself as the world's worst bedrester. I'm a busy body.
I like to clean. When I would hear of people being on bed rest for weeks during pregnancy, the very thought of it was horrific. The most incredible thing happened. Soon after I was connected to the monitor at the hospital and I was just laying there, the doctor came and and her first words were, "You're done." Now, normally I would panic. "WHAT!? What about my clients? What about my cases? What about everything that needs to be done around the house before the baby comes? I have nothing ready for the baby! I'll go crazy just sitting there all day!" I had none of those thoughts. Instead I was overwhelmed by a feeling of total resignation. It was a feeling of giving up control and I felt totally at peace. In my heart I handed over the reigns and it felt really good. As I was laying there thinking about all this, Psalm 46:10 came to my mind, "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." These words came to me so strong and clear. Later I learned that the Hebrew of "be still" translates to "let go" or "release". Isn't that incredible?
As I was looking up the Hebrew translation of "be still", I found this prayer that is so fitting for those times that the whispers start:
Slow me down Lord.
Ease the pounding of my heart by the quieting of my mind. Steady my hurried pace. Give me, amidst the day's confusion, the calmness of the everlasting hills.
Break the tensions of my nerves and muscles with the soothing music of singing streams that live in my memory. Help me to know the magical, restoring power of sleep. Teach me the art of taking "minute vacations"...slowing down to look at a flower, to chat with a friend, to read a few lines from a good book. Remind me of the fable of the hare and the tortoise; that the race is not always to the swift; that there is more to life than measuring its speed. Let me look up at the branches of the towering oak and know that it grew slowly and well. Inspire me to send my own roots down deep into the soil of life's endearing values...that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny. I keep this blog, not just to keep you, our family and friends, up do date on our children, but so I will be able to look back on it and remember things that I might otherwise have forgotten. So I type this as a way of reminding myself to LISTEN, to hear the whispers before they become taps, that I am not in charge, and that there is peace in surrender to Jesus.
As an update, we're 33 weeks along today. I go to the doctor every Monday morning. This week she said I was still 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced. I was ecstatic that labor had not progressed. She didn't think there had been any significant change and the bed rest restrictions were loosened. I can get up a little more as long as I relax for long periods in between. The Lord has given us this minor challenge but the ways in which He has cared for us are so overwhelming. I've had family or friends here with me almost everyday even though I assure them that I'm fine and they really don't have to stay. Our freezer is stocked with food that has been brought over. The house is clean and the laundry is done. And guess what? My office hasn't burned down. We have felt so blessed by the love and support from our friends and family and we love you so very much.
It took me a really long time to write this post, which is why I haven't posted in a while, but I will be updating every couple of days from here on out. I've got to tell you about the blanket I've been knitting, the books I've been reading, Joseph's big boy bed. I've also got to post some pictures of our vacation.
