Delivered by Peace-- The Birth Story of Emmy Lou Bell

Labor.

Ah, the topic every woman is terrified of, yet the same topic women cannot to stop talking about.

While I was pregnant it was almost as if your labor story was some sort of rite of passage into motherhood.

The stories women would tell would range from “I sneezed and the baby just popped out” all the way to “My epidural didn’t work and I saw the light of heaven begin to welcome me.”

Somehow though, every story sent me soaring with fear.

The panic was real and heavy each day as I inched closer and closer to the delivery.

But at the beginning of the year (which was just a few weeks before I had Emmy Lou), Cody challenged me to pick a word for myself and then a word for the two of us to press into as we walked through 2019.

After 2 weeks of prayer, I finally landed on expectant.

I felt like it was all I could think of as I was about to become a mother, but that the Lord was about to unfold much more in my life than I could have imagined. I didn’t (and still don’t) know what that is yet.

But as the two of us prayed about a word for our family for 2019, we found that all we desired in our lives was peace… so that’s what we chose.

Peace that passes understanding.

Peace no matter our circumstance.

Peace when things make sense.

Peace when there are gray clouds following us around.

Peace.

Remaining in peace seems so simple, but putting that into practice felt like I was running a marathon with cinderblocks strapped to my incredibly pregnant ankles.

I honestly cannot tell you where that came from or how it really came to be, but we were certain that it was what we as a family had to choose for the season we were about to embark upon.

What does this have to do with my delivery?

Well, nothing and everything… all at once.

Emmy Lou was due on January 23, 2019.

Key word: Due.

I spent each day past my due date watching the hours pass and women I knew pop babies out as I sat back and waited… 8. long. days.

But I started noticing something shift in me.

When I would feel the fear rise up, I felt strength rise up too. — and I felt peace.

When I would see something that scared me, I would see something that encouraged me— and I felt peace.

When someone would share something that sent me into panic, someone would tell me something that leveled me back— and I felt peace. side note: to every mother who encouraged me that week, I thank you from the most sincere part of my heart.

I was set to deliver at the hospital in town that every woman in our city delivers at.. even I was born there.

The place is literally called “the baby factory”.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my plan could get messed up and nothing would go as I hoped, but that I was delivering at this hospital.

After all, I went on a tour there, I knew people who worked there, I knew where to go when I went into labor. It was all set.

Ah, but the Lord wanted me to find peace.

I had my 41 week stress test and ultrasound. Everything looked great, but with the time that had passed, my doctor wanted to set an induction.

‘No problem’ I thought. I’ll just be induced, I’ve mentally prepared for this. Not a part of my plan? No problem. I have peace.

But there was a kink in the plan. The one plan I had.

The hospital I planned to deliver at was, well, booked. My doctor did not have priority at this place and I was forced to set an induction at the hospital across town.

It sounds ridiculous.

It was just another hospital. But you tell that to a woman that is 8 days overdue that the one place she had control over is no longer in her control and let me know how that unfolds.

After 24 hours of intense hormonal meltdown, I set my induction date.

I would go into Jackson Hospital (which is an excellent hospital by the way) on Wednesday evening to start cytotec. The drug BEFORE pitocin.

For all you ladies who didn’t dilate at all before labor, we are family.

I’ll add that Cody (the worlds best husband) cheered me up about the hospital transition by singing Johnny Cash “Jackson” on repeat for 24 hours leading to the induction.

We packed up, cleaned our house, and headed to Jackson Hospital the evening of Wednesday January 30th to start the process.

I truly believe the Lord put specific people on my path to talk to that had great experiences with the same medicine they gave me or the hospital I was going to.

When they checked us in and all the nurses were asking me a thousand questions about my medical history, I sat there and realized what I our family chose for the year: peace.

I chose to choose peace when things didn’t go my way.

I chose to choose peace when it did.

My circumstances are not my peace, Jesus is, and Holy Spirit was my only access to that.

None of what happened leading up was my choice: 8 days overdue, the hospital I was delivering at, the discomfort in it all.

But peace IS a choice I can make.

They got us set up in our hospital room and cody set up on his cot for the next 4 days. We were in and I knew in my soul that everything was going to be ok.

They came in and out of my room all night and at 4 am started me on pitocin (a labor inducing medicine) to get labor kickstarted that day.

Contractions came quickly and strong, but throughout my pregnancy I worked hard to remember that if I relax my mind, my body will follow suit. There was discomfort and deep breathing between then and around noon when they gave me an epidural, but overall I continued focusing on what it meant to keep my mind at peace, and honestly, it helped.

Once I got an epidural I was able to rest because the night before I didn’t sleep a wink.

The rest of the day was spent resting and hanging with my mom and mother in law who planted themselves in the room with me and Cody— never to be moved unless by force! — I kid… sort of.

By around 4:00 p.m. I had dilated about 8.5 centimeters but with every contraction the baby was having something called “late deceleration” — meaning every time I had a contraction, Emmy Lou’s heart rate would drop until the contraction ended… (this is my best attempt at explaining medical terms).

My nurse (who was an angel sent down from heaven on golden wings) monitored me closely and carefully. I felt so safe and surrounded by the staff at my second choice hospital and felt like a fool for thinking less of that place.

Within the next half hour, my doctor came in and said he would be watching this closely, but that if it didn’t change within the next hour that he was “calling it” AKA— C-Section.

A term that may have thrown me for a whirlwind a few days prior, but the only thing I could think was “this doesn’t get to control how I feel. I get to choose peace here.”

Honestly, I saw panic enter the room on the face of everyone waiting with me, but I knew.. I KNEW in my soul that it was going to be GOOD.

I thought I would be waiting another hour before the Doctor came back in to let me know his final thoughts, but within 15 minutes, he came back in and said", “I’m too uncomfortable with this, I’m calling it.”

In a matter of seconds, my bed rails moved down and my bed was moving swiftly out of the room with a slew of staff asking me a thousand questions about my surgery history. Cody was immediately handed a pair of scrubs and we were off to the OR.

Honestly, I felt like I was on an episode of grey’s anatomy. It was a bit wild.

All I remember doing as they wheeled me out was looking my mom dead in the eye and saying, “I am fine, don’t worry, I promise you I AM FINE.”—There was nothing to convince her otherwise, she’s my mother and there was no way I could tell her what to do or how to feel as they wheeled me out of the room.

From the time they wheeled me into the OR, I was answering three different doctors as they asked me thousands of questions to prep me for last minute surgery.

That’s when I felt it. Panic. I legit yelled at the doctors, “ONE QUESTION AT A TIME I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM TALKING TO.”

I realize now that yelling at the men who are medicating you and cutting through your muscles is not wise… HOWEVER, neither is spouting off a million questions to a pregnant woman in major surgery… I digress.

They slowed their question roll but Cody was still not in the OR when I heard the doctor say, “ok, i am about to cut.”

Tears started streaming down my face and I thought, ‘I have no peace. I am done.’

The anesthesiologist took some tissues and patted down my tears while I laid there.

Just then, I heard Cody’s voice… praise GOD, they finally let him in the OR as they were about to start surgery.

I heard the doctor say, “you’re going to experience a lot of pressure.”

And I did.

Loads of pressure.

Cody leaned down over my head and said, “This is it baby, this is where you can come expectant of God’s peace. Be expectant.”

They delivered my girl into the world on January 31, 2019 at 5:51 p.m. weighing 8.3 pounds and 20 3/4 inches long.

I could hear her healthy lungs screaming and Cody leaned down over me sobbing saying, “I am so proud of you!”

After a few minutes they wrapped her up and brought her over so I could look at her.

She stopped crying and was so content… so peaceful.

My girl.

The babe I prayed for and hoped for and dreamed about peacefully next to me.

Peace.

It wasn’t planned.

It most certainly was not perfect.

I experienced disappointment and faced the situation I hoped I could have avoided.

But there was peace.

Not because peace chose me and planted itself in my life, but because I have access to peace when I choose to access it.

Even in my moments of fear, there could still be peace.

Ever since that day, I have wondered how I can still counteract every moment that is unsettling with peace.

I fail daily at it, but God never fails to deliver what He promises.

A baby I prayed so desperately for and a delivery filled with the promise of peace.

I’d live it over again any day.