overshadowing power of grace

My Jed is turning one! How is that even possible when it feels like just yesterday we welcomed him into the world? But it is true, and as surreal as that may feel, reflecting on all that this year has held, has given me capacity to finally share the story of Jed’s birth. 

JM took leave the week before my due date to be available at any time, but also so we could spend as much time together, just enjoying time together as a family of two. Looking back, this week was one of my favourite memories. And I am forever grateful that we chose to prioritise mundane moments. Sunsets at the Sea Point Promenade. Dinner dates. Wine Farm lunch dates. We really soaked in each other’s company.

On Friday morning at around 3am, I was gently awoken by mild contractions. When JM woke up, we decided to just spend the day in bed until the contractions were worth going to the hospital. We watched series, ate junk food, and just embraced the inevitable. 

At 6pm, contractions were worth going to the hospital. When we arrived, the maternity ward nurses got us all set up in a delivery room. We were pleasantly surprised that the midwife who facilitated our antenatal classes was the night shift midwife. A real blessing since my gynae was not going to be delivering our baby. 

Since we arrived while I was still in latent labour I was able to meet the on-call gynae and ask as many questions while in a relatively peaceful state of mind considering a total stranger was now going to be delivering my baby. He instantly put us at ease and I had full confidence in him. 

A few hours later, labour was progressing and I decided it was time for drugs. The nurse who administered my drip accidentally knocked it out before it was taped down [this did not help my fear of needles], but she eventually got it all sorted and we could continue the process. Unfortunately, the epidural didn’t take as it should have and I had a pain pocket in my hip. This was a very interesting experience as I felt all the excruciating pain until the very last second, but I also had total numbness and wasn’t even sure when I needed to start pushing.

Many people have told me that you forget the pain. And maybe you do with time. But I can honestly say that a year has not been a long enough time to forget the pain of childbirth. 

While laying on the delivery bed, I remember thinking how efficient their system for delivery is. One moment you are lying “comfortably” and everything is as calm as it could be and the next the bottom of the bed is detached, and everyone is swiftly getting ready to deliver a baby. 

The last 20 minutes were intense pain, overwhelming loss of control, and anxious fear.

Not knowing if they would actually be able to deliver the baby, and if everything was going to be okay. 

Our baby was stuck at an awkward angle and as a result the gynae struggled to get him. After a few attempts at using the Kiwi Vacuum, we thought our baby may be going into distress. 

The gynae quickly got ready to do an ultrasound to ensure that our little one was doing okay. But, there was a flicker of darkness. Power had just kicked over from the generator due to loadshedding, and this turned off the ultrasound machine. Which now needed a few moments to reboot. When you’re in labour, every second counts and every second feels like an eternity.

It had been 4 hours in active labour and my fentanyl drip was higher than usual because we tried to unblock the pain pocket. Personal opinion: if you have a pain pocket, just embrace it. My legs were numb for 15 hours because of the drugs. 

The higher dosage of fentanyl also meant that I was experiencing side effects. Almost passing out, white as a sheet, and cold sweats. None of which helped in those last moments. 

But finally, only a few minutes later with one last push and baby finally in the right position, the gynae delivered our baby.

Those next few seconds were the longest seconds of my life. Silence. The instant fear that something could be wrong. But after holding my breath, there it was, a sound, a wonderful baby cry. And despite our concern, his apgar score was 9/10.

If I told you that it was the most special moment of my life, I’d be lying. It was not love at first sight. This was a moment of pure exhaustion, a bit of relief, and a whole lot of what-have-we-done. 

At 00:20 on 29 April 2023, weighing 3070g and 54cm Jedidiah James was born. 

After we got settled in a room, JM stayed a while, until we realised that he should probably go home and get some sleep, since I probably was not going to get much. And he wasn’t actually allowed to stay the night according to hospital policy.

These first few moments were so anti-climatic, none of it felt real, yet all of it felt so overwhelming; coupled with the trauma of the whole event, thus resulting in postpartum depression. A journey that has taken a year to process, understand and overcome.

Despite all of that, a year later, I can look back with a different perspective. 

Was it the most traumatic event of my life? Yes 

Was it the most fear-filled moment of my life? Yes

Was it the most God-graced moment of my life? Yes

Our birth story was not what we expected it to be. We didn’t have our gynae who had processed all of this with us for nine months. I had been awake for 21 hours by the time Jed was born. The epidural didn’t work effectively which was worse than not having them at all because I was paralysed and had no other way to relieve pain. 

But, despite the experience being less than ideal. Grace covered all of it. The gynae was the gynae that I had hoped to get to deliver our baby right from the start, he just didn’t have any availability for new patients. Our midwife was a familiar face that I trusted, who then took care of Jed during the night so I could get some sleep over the next few days. And was even willing to do home visits with us when we needed help with nursing. Even though my body was in distress, Jed is a perfect baby boy.  

I did not recognise this grace after the birth. I was overwhelmed with trauma, grief, sleep deprivation, frustration with learning new skills, exhaustion, and not to mention hormones, that just covered everything in a very thick fog. 

However, a year later, the postpartum fog has lifted, and I can see that God’s grace was in the fog. God’s grace was like a shadow, following me in everything that I was doing. Gracing me through every new thing. 

And although the fog was heavy, and the darkness was overwhelming. God’s grace was there, even in my oblivion. 

A grace that doesn’t overpower our human frailty, but a grace that overshadows it. A grace so subtle that may be missed, but a grace so powerful to still equip.

Whatever is about to be birthed in your life, a baby, a job opportunity, a new lifestyle, a new home, you may resonate with all these feelings of fear, anxiety, exhaustion, relief and regret. And that is totally human. 

Eventually the postpartum fog lifts, and you see what was there all along. The overshadowing power of grace.

JCS