Delivering the Good In Spite of Wasted Contractions

"May the God who gives hope fill you with great joy.
May you have perfect peace as you trust in Him. May the power of the Holy Spirit fill you with hope."  Romans 15:13

My firstborn just before she med her firstborn.

I remember the day our firstborn entered the world. It was a day procrastination didn't pay. My water broke at 4:00 a.m. and we were completely unprepared as Julie would make her appearance a month early. We had no suitcase packed, no gas in the car for the hour drive to the hospital, and to top it off, we hadn't attended the last two birthing classes.  Don't ask me why because this gal and her non-morning husband didn't know nuthin' 'bout birthing babies. Picture me in the car at dawn cramming for this upcoming final exam, studying the "How to Breathe" section of the brochure from the class. Between my squeals of joy ("We're having a BABY today!!") and cries of fear (We're having a baby TODAY!!"), not a bit of the information stuck and there was no going back. 

As I lay on the hospital bed 13 hours later, cluelessly contracting, the doctor I had hoped would be in Hawaii when our baby was born, walked through the door.  He stared at me writhing at the mercy of my body and told the nurses in disgust, "She's wasting contractions. It will be at least another 45 minutes," and left.   

So many emotions knotted in me at that moment.  
1) Anger at this man who showed contempt for my plight and hadn't bothered to tell me how to do it better.  Idiot! Saying what he did in THAT tone to a woman in labor! If I had known how to control my body I would have rolled after him and bitten his ankle. 

2) Frustration that pain, nausea and the bizarre out-of-control feeling wouldn't end sooner.

3) Fear that this process would tear my baby or my body apart.  

4) Humiliation that I was failing as a birthing mom.  

5) Joy hovered quietly in the background since we would see our baby's face sooner than later - maybe even in 45 minutes.

6) Peace slipped in, since billions of moms had historically (albeit, hysterically) birthed babies without the benifit of classes or brochures.   

Kind nurses gave me a crash course in focusing better and flailing less. Julie Dove arrived and we rejoiced at her sweet red, squalling little face, ten fingers and ten toes. All my negativity melted into a stream of thankfulness as I heard myself repeating, "Thank You, God!"

Today, we may find ourselves stretched to our limits to bring forth good from first-time challenges and possibilities before us. Nay-sayers and humiliators will step in to distract us from trusting God, but somewhere in our believing hearts hover joy in God's presence and peace in God's purpose. 

Lord, we ask Your mighty help in learning to focus on gratitude and in replacing our natural reactions of flailing, blaming, and biting ankles with simple trust in You.  Deliver us from anxiety, worry and pride and deliver us into Your joy and peace.  Whatever character traits and fruit You're developing in us, may we rejoice that the trials come and go with purpose.

In the Name of Jesus, Savior Who faced Nay-Sayers and Humiliators to Deliver Us