Four Birth Stories, Part 2

This post is a continuation of an earlier post. If you haven’t already, you should read Part 1 first. Even if you have seen Part 1 already, you might want to take another look at it. There’s an updated photo, and the pictures now have captions.


Nothing is as precious as a newborn; this was our third-born (photo credit: Oksana Dyachenko)

To me, nothing is as precious as a newborn; this was our third-born
(photo credit: Oksana Dyachenko)

These contractions were stronger than the practice contractions I’d been experiencing for months, but they didn’t establish the textbook pattern of getting stronger and closer together. I was in frequent contact with my medical-school friend, and we decided that it must be false labor. But false labor or not, it seemed to be accomplishing something, and I was reminded of my first labor, when I had experienced weak, irregular contractions for 48 hours before finally going to the hospital and finding out that I was already 7 centimeters dilated, almost ready to have the baby!

The anxiety I had been experiencing turned into a strangling sense of dread. This oppressive feeling blanketed every waking moment, like the foreboding that a prisoner on death row must feel as his execution date nears. Frantic from the suspense, I was almost ready to check into the hospital and brave the medical system, but my husband, ever calm and logical, convinced me that was a bad idea.

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Lifelong Birthday Blessing

Just over three years ago, I was heavy with child and patiently awaiting the onset of labor. It was to be the second time I gave birth, and I thought I had it all figured out. My due date was November 11, and since my first baby had been born just two hours before his due date, I knew that there was no danger of this one being born on my birthday, November 19. I was relieved, because I really did not want to share my birthday―my own special day―with one of my children, for the rest of our lives. But God, and my second-born, had other ideas.

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