You are the best thing...

After 9 months of watching my body steadily grow larger and larger I was ready. Ready to stop getting stuck trying to maneuver myself in between parked cars, ready to sleep on my stomach, ready to meet this little girl who was the fulfillment of all the dreams I never knew I had.

Four weeks from her due date I was sitting in Dr. Jesus' office (his name is not Dr. Jesus, he just looks like a mixture of Jesus and Professor Snape, and we both agreed we would rather have Jesus delivering our baby.) We had had an ultrasound a few days earlier and had learned that our baby was in a breech position, meaning she was sitting head up rather than the needed head down. I was absolutely panicked. Is my baby ok? Would we need a c-section? Will I feel you cutting me open? Would we try to turn her? I don't want to try to turn her. Is it cheating for you to take my baby and me to not do the work? Can we go ahead and get her out now... I am SO tired of being pregnant! Is she brain damaged from me accidentally smacking her with that jar on what I thought was her butt a few weeks ago?

All of this in my head and Dr. Jesus' response? "Let's just wait and see if she turns... nothing to worry about."

I felt 9 months of hormones and crazy combine and give way to a pregnant woman's fury. I actually watched as my doctor's face showed a bit of fear- not at the fate of my child, but at his chance of leaving the room in one piece. We agreed that we should not try to turn her externally and that we would come back for another ultrasound in two weeks.

Those two weeks we tried everything from pseudo-head stands to Joe talking to the lower part of my abdomen trying to entice our kid to do one last in-utero flip. But nothing worked and I began to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for a c-section.

I struggled with the idea that I was somehow missing some right of passage not having a normal birth. I felt guilty and scared. Then a few days before our ultrasound my mom made a statement that changed everything. She mentioned how wonderful it is to have the technology we have today, and are able to know that she is breech and take care of it easily. I realized then that without the c-section the safety of my baby and myself would have been in jeopardy. I was ready and thankful when the doctor began discussing our scheduled c-section.

We were scheduled for surgery on Thursday 11/3/11. My mom and I had the last few days planned out in getting ready for baby, starting with a day of laziness on Monday. However, I woke to a call from the hospital Monday morning asking if we would like to move our c-section up to 7:30 am the following morning. We would be having a baby in less than 24 hours!

The morning of the delivery I was intensely nervous. I had gone through the gamut of fears about not being ready to be a mom and worrying that the pain medication wouldn't kick in before they started the surgery. I also felt as though I was doing some kind of violence against my unborn child by allowing them to cut her out of me. Joe asked me simply if I was scared and I started to cry. He told me to look up a few worship songs. I did so hesitantly, knowing he often chooses songs I never would. As we listened and parked he held me and prayed and I found myself so thankful that he was the one who would be next to me the whole time. We walked inside, hand in hand, singing

" Oh my God, he will not delay

My refuge and strength always

I will not fear, His promise is true

My God will come through always."

~Kristian Stanfill "Always"

I stepped into the cold operating room all prepped and still singing our worship songs in my mind. I was shaking from nerves and the cold, but the nurses were amazing and very encouraging. They put in the spinal block and suddenly I was warm and feeling awesome. I had one moment of panic when they put in the oxygen tube, but the anesthesiologist came and massaged my head and told me how to breathe and I was again feeling good. Joe came in and we teased Dr. Jesus about his "easy listening" music. I felt them pushing her down, then heard Dr. Jesus say "Oh, she's pooping." I thought, "OK, God, that's either me or her, and I don't want to know if it's me. " (The nurse told us later it was Lilly- though I wouldn't tell you if it wasn't :)

I cried when I heard her first cry, it was beautiful. Then, suddenly the doctor was saying "Here she is!" I look up at the top of the screen in front of me at this screaming, miniature Yoda covered in slime. Then as quickly, it was gone, Joe was gone to see his new daughter, and I was left lying there thinking, "I am the worst mother ever, I think my baby looks like a gremlin... I am supposed to be the one who thinks she's perfect no matter what." Waves of guilt, mixed with tears from hearing her cry, came over me. Then Joe came back around the curtain carrying a tiny blanketed burrito with a hat. He sat down and put her face up to mine for me to see and I said, "I know you." She was magnificent! Clean and smooth. I touched her eyebrow, her nose, and felt her soft skin on my cheek. She was more than I had hoped for, and more beautiful than I could have imagined. As for that little gremlin, I should probably write the hospital to let them know it's probably still running around that O room somewhere.

We found out later that the umbilical cord was wrapped around Lilly's neck and had we tried to turn her or gone into labor without knowing it would have been detrimental to both of us. It's so true, "My God will come through always."