Carol Kent and Ellie Kay offer relatable stories and timeless truths for moms through this devotional for moms. Join them in bringing to the Lord all of the worries and joys that come with motherhood.

A Drug-Free Experience

by Ellie Kay

Zig Ziglar says he is such an optimist he would go after Moby Dick in a rowboat and take the tartar sauce with him. ~James S. Hewett, from Illustrations Unlimited

I’ve always been a forward thinker—but sometimes that gets me into trouble. When I was in my early twenties, I became interested in what I thought would be the next stage in my life: having babies. I attended a small-town church in Texas where several families were into natural home births. I’d sit for hours listening to moms tell me why having babies at home was the very best option for Christians. I believed every word. A friend also listened intently and decided to have her first birth at home, with a midwife and no drugs.

About the time my friend Brittany got to the transition phase of labor, that final stage before a mom begins to push, her breathing techniques were not blocking the pain. She looked at her husband, “John,” and said, “I can’t believe this hurts so bad—I don’t deserve this pain!”

To which her Christian husband replied, “You’re right, you don’t deserve this …” Then he made a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad mistake. He added what he considered to be a biblical principle: “… what you really deserve is death.”

To which she replied:

“I’ll show you death!”

***

When the childbirth season finally arrived for me, I read all the home-birth books and did natural childbirth training. I even considered birthing at home. But by the time the baby was due, another one of the naturalists in our church had almost lost a baby by birthing in her home, an hour from the nearest hospital.

So I tweaked my birth plan a bit.

I decided to be the first mom to deliver a baby in the natural childbirth room in our two-year-old regional hospital. It seemed to be all or nothing in our town: you either used the labor and delivery room or you birthed at home. No one had tried the combination room yet. The student nurses, who were on their OB rotation, were hoping I’d deliver on their shift so they could witness this trivial bit of hospital history. They bustled around the hallway, giving each other an update on my progress. Their experienced supervisor, Nurse Betty, felt my stomach and announced: “I’ve guessed the weight on a hundred babies, and I’m usually within six ounces of their actual weight. I’m guessing this will be a good-sized baby of about eight pounds, six ounces.” Not only was I destined to make hospital history with this birth, I was going to break Nurse Betty’s weight-guessing record.

While I was in labor, I concentrated on breathing techniques, and they really worked for me. It was hard, but breathing helped displace the pain—for the most part. However, the closer I got to delivery, the easier it was to get distracted and lose focus. Once, when the door opened, I saw six faces stacked up like a totem pole, all peering in to catch a glimpse of the lady who didn’t do drugs. By this time, I felt like a “watched pot” that wasn’t boiling soon enough and was not in the mood to be a “class project.”

I was also worried about something else. Even though it wasn’t my nature to use profanity, I was deathly afraid I would get into transition and then just go crazy and cuss out the pastor’s wife, who was visiting me in labor. Tip: if you’re planning on visiting a woman in your congregation who is in labor, don’t count anything she has to say (especially in transition) against her.

After only six hours of labor, I delivered an eleven-pound, twenty-four-inch boy. The nurses dubbed him “Baby Huey.” All this without drugs or cursing. I know, it’s a miracle!

It was such a great experience that I was destined to repeat it four more times. Each was in a natural birthing room and was done without drugs.

I didn’t go into the natural childbirth experience with the same attitude as the naturalists from my small-town church. No, I didn’t say that birthing a baby without drugs was somehow related to my spirituality. I just decided to try it, and it worked for me. I have scads of friends who take an epidural as soon as they arrive in the hospital. That works for them. They’re great moms and good Christians—and they use drugs.

I think most women who have borne children enjoy sharing their childbirth stories—good and bad. Just have any first-time pregnant mom walk into a meeting of Mothers of Preschoolers and ask, “Hey, does anyone want to tell me what it’s like to have a baby?” She will be besieged with stories such as:

“I was in labor twenty-eight hours, pushed for ten hours, and ended up having a C-section.”

Or: “I thought I was gonna die. I mean, I thought I was going out of my mind, it hurt so bad. I just knew I was gonna die.”

Or: “I screamed the entire time. I just yelled and yelled and yelled and then I yelled some more.”

I’m so grateful I was blessed with good experiences and encouraging stories to tell. It worked a particular way for me just because it did—not because I was good. Not because I had an extraordinary amount of faith. Not because I’m a naturalist and God honors naturalists. Not any of those reasons. And if you’re a tad jealous about my “good story,” then just read my “bad story” on Day 3, and you’ll feel much better.

The next time you’re talking to a woman who is expecting her first child, think twice about how you tell your “red badge of courage” birth story. Choose your words carefully and try to accentuate the positive. After all, only God knows how a particular labor and delivery will progress and turn out. If you happen to have a harrowing story that could upset or frighten a new mom-to-be, it’s a good idea to ask whether or not the woman is really interested in hearing your story. It’s important to remember that God cares deeply for every mom in the labor of birth and the labor of life.

Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a ruling rightly given.

Proverbs 25:11 NIV