Tuesday, March 24, 2020

How God Gave Us Jentzen


Oh sweet Jentzen Cove, how I love you so. This is your story, baby boy, one worth telling, that I hope you can treasure forevermore. This is the story of how God gave us YOU!

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As I type this, Jentzen is 8 months old. He’s one of the happiest, sweetest, chillest babies I know (now…!). He’s had a roller coaster of a life so far, a health scare and hospitalization that I’ll never forget, and a recovery that I will always treasure. His smile is unmatched in the joy it brings me when he looks into my eyes, and I’m so thankful for him, breathing in the sweetness of his snuggle every chance I get!

(If you wanted to read about Brinkley's birth first, click here. And Milo's birth, here.)

After I had given birth to Milo, life changed. When we were getting ready for our first child, we KNEW life would be different, and we prepared for it, so we were ready, and when Brinks came, it was as smooth of a transition as anybody could hope for, but that’s not something we were thinking about when trying to get pregnant with baby number two. It hit me about 6 months into the pregnancy that life was about to get really hard, and that maybe we should have waited another year before having our second, but it was too late. Little did I know just how difficult it would be for us, for me.

Chris and I have always had a strong marriage, and when Brinks came along, a strong family dynamic as well, and we figured it would follow suit with Milo. But it was such a harder transition than we had ever imagined. That shift from 1 to 2 children was the toughest adjustment we’ve faced so far in this life. We were never in any real trouble, but that first year of Milo’s life was definitely the most difficult year for our marriage and family. It was filled with a lot of joy, but also with a lot of adjustments and sacrifices that I wasn’t in the right head space to deal with.

Milo’s pregnancy and birth were much harder for me than Brinkley’s, and it honestly made me never want to be pregnant or have another child again, and life after his birth confirmed this. I was upset for a number of reasons, and yes, hormonal as well (thank you post-partum baby blues), but my faith had reached a low point, and between no sleep, no quiet time, and constant nursing and giving of myself, while trying to deal with my strong willed 3 year old, I had had it. The first day I was home alone with Brinks and Milo by myself (he was 3 weeks old), I plotted the entire day about how I could be a working mom again, and how I could get out of staying at home. The sweet season of being a stay at home mom had suddenly died in my heart and so I was living a life that I was no longer passionate about. None of this was specifically related to Milo, he was actually a very sweet baby (a very BIG sweet baby I might add.) I was honestly struggling more with taking care of Brinkley, but it was mostly just the two verses one day to day that my life had suddenly become. In hindsight, having learned a lot more about myself over the years, being at home was not the healthiest place for me or for my family. I am somebody who needs adult, human, face to face interaction every single day. I need to leave the house. I need to accomplish things for me besides the basic up keep of the house and kids. And being a stay at home mom was slowly killing my soul. I loved my children very much, but we all did so much better when we had some time apart, and then come together again. Being with them 24/7 began to ruin our relationship. Adding another kid to this mess was not on my radar, and I knew our family would never survive such a thing.

Once Milo was about a year old, we had finally come to a good and comfortable place again. We had found our new normal and were enjoying life as a family of four. My relationship with God was back on track. I was running again. I was still a doula, very part-time, and trying to get the kids out of the house as much as possible. I still wanted to work outside of the home, but I knew we just weren’t in a financial place to afford the childcare necessary for me to do so, so I would still dream, but it was on the back burner.

(Easter 2018)

When Milo was about 16 months old, Chris approached me and told me that he wanted to have a third child. About a month before this I had confirmed with him the exact opposite. I had sold all of my maternity clothes and everything. So I was shocked at this news. He had his reasons, but he felt pretty strongly about it, and he just asked me to consider being open to the idea. This was in March of 2018. I still thought he was crazy, but I trusted him, and told him I would pray about it and see what God had to say.

Fast forward to October of that year, about 7 months later. Chris was still set on having a 3rd baby and I still wasn’t sure, and even if I agreed to it, the whole question of “when” was luring in the back of my mind. I had started job hunting at this point, trying to work everything into my perfect little plan. I had a second call back interview scheduled with the Greensboro Pregnancy Care Center for a part time job and I was SO excited. It just didn’t seem like a good time to get pregnant.

God has tried to teach me again and again and AGAIN to surrender to Him. That is my constant struggle in our relationship. I want to control my life, and He wants me to surrender it. Each time I have chosen to surrender, it’s been so freeing and I always wonder what took me so long, but it appears that to this day, I still haven’t quite fully learned this lesson.

Driving the kids home one day from Brinkley’s pre-school, I was listening to a worship song and totally one with the spirit of God. He was telling me to surrender, once more, and that He would take care of everything. He was giving me His supernatural peace about the entire situation. For the first time, I felt like we would make it, and that our family would survive a third child (and more importantly, a third pregnancy lol), with God’s help.

The next evening Chris and I went on a date and I told him that I would be ok if we had a third baby. I told him I still wasn’t sure when, and tried to plot out several different scenarios in my head based on so many different things, but then the whole surrender thing came into play. After talking it out, we decided that the following month (after I had gotten my next period) that we would stop using birth control.

But GOD.

The following weekend we were going to Ohio for a friend’s wedding and I was scheduled to have that lovely time of the month during our trip, so I prepared myself, but to my surprise, it never came. I just figured I was off by a couple of days, it had done this once before, so I waited. By the end of that week, when I still hadn’t gotten my period, Chris encouraged me to take a test. Convinced it was impossible that I was pregnant because we had been using protection, I went to the Dollar Tree to get the cheap test, because you REALLY had to be pregnant for that thing to come back positive. We had been at the dentist office with Brinks all morning, finding out that she had ten cavities and needed $5,000 worth of dental work (and I still wasn’t working at the time), and that afternoon when we got home, I casually took the test, thinking more about our new dental bill than pregnancy. Lo and behold, it was positive. I was shocked. Chris was overjoyed. I was stunned. Chris was giddy. I was nervous. Chris was joyful. On the inside though, I was excited. It’s hard not to be when you know how precious new life is!

(Pregnancy Announcement) 

Clearly God was at work here. Something Chris had been desiring for some time, and something God had JUST given me a peace about happening, was already in motion. Only He could have pulled that off!

Fast. That’s what it felt like. The week before I had just agreed to being ok with the idea of stopping prevention the following month, not knowing how long it would take to get pregnant, but I was already pregnant and didn’t know it. Within a week I was as sick as I’d ever been. And that’s when things got bad.

In that same week, I had been offered the job at the Pregnancy Care Center, but the childcare I had lined up for this job had fallen through and I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was also now pregnant and had to tell them that, and believe it or not they were still willing to hire me! But how could they when I didn’t have a childcare plan? I was torn.  I wanted to work but I couldn’t figure out how. I knew I wouldn’t make it being a stay at home mom of THREE. I barely survived it with two. I needed to work, and wanted to, but I didn’t know what to do.

The day they offered me the job, I came by the church to pick up Milo from Chris who had kept him during my final interview. They had gone to grab lunch and weren’t back yet but I ran into my friends, Jonathan and Alexa, who were having lunch with their four kiddos. They could tell I was distraught, and as I began to explain my situation to them, I told them I was pregnant as well and started crying. We hadn’t told anybody yet. Well, if God hadn’t lined up that situation I don’t know who did. Jonathan had a job opening for a part-time, contracted position for 3 months. At Daystar. Chris and my close friends knew very well that working at Daystar had been a dream of mine for years. My heart had grown and grown for the local church since Chris began working there, and God had spoken to me on more than one occasion that I would one day be in full time ministry, but I hadn’t dreamed that day would come as soon as it had. Jonathan asked if I would consider taking the job at Daystar, that did provide childcare, and it wasn’t even a question in my mind. That afternoon I accepted the position there and told the Pregnancy Care Center I wouldn’t be taking the job (as much as I had initially wanted to!).

This was a LOT of things. A new job, a new baby, and all at once. I was due to start the job on Monday (this was the Thursday before), but my nausea set in the following day (Friday), and by Sunday night I was barely mobile. I had never had morning sickness hit me this hard. I felt it with Brinks, and it wasn’t fun, but it was summer and I was a teacher, and I basically slept it off the entire break. With Milo, it was much more intense and miserable, but I was at home, so Brinkley basically watched cartoons while I puked my brains out in between naps. This time, however, it literally took me out. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t walk, I felt like I was constantly hung over with the worst body aches, nausea, and throwing up I’d ever experienced. I wasn’t able to start working that Monday, and instead, by Tuesday I was in the hospital, hooked up to fluids and IV anti-nausea meds. And I was hating every minute of it.

I was the most miserable I’d ever been in my entire life. For some reason, I have always struggled with physical pain more than anything else. Throw a huge emotional situation at me and I can take it, but get me sick or injured and I’m a lost cause. When I am physically unwell, every part of me in unwell, and I lose faith faster in that situation than any other situation in life. This caused me to have some dark thoughts. I went from spending every morning with the Lord, in worship, in prayer, in His word, journaling everything He told me, prophesying over my friends, and clearly hearing Him throughout the entirety of my days, to spending every conscious moment wishing I wasn’t conscious, so that I didn’t have to feel and experience what I was going through. It was so bad, that on multiple occasions I was begging God to give this baby to somebody else. And by that, I mean that I was wishing for a miscarriage, simply so that I didn’t have to endure that pain anymore. That’s a very, VERY low place to be in, and it was very real in the moment. But Jentzen Cove, you were most certainly worth it! 

I did eventually start working, which actually helped. It was a break from having to take care of the kiddos, and a distraction from the way I was feeling. Sure I was vomiting on the job, but I was there, and it actually helped me get through that part of the pregnancy (and lasted ‘til about 23 weeks this time). Bleh. An awesome thing that happened during this time, though, was switching from a part time contracted position, to a full time position on staff. It really was my dream come true. I could tell you all of the reasons why this was so amazing, but that’s another story!!

One crazy thing I just have to mention here (simply so that I don’t forget) is that somehow, Brinkley, Chris, and myself, ALL got Shingles (at different times) during this pregnancy. First Brinks, then Chris, then me, all weeks or months apart from each other. The doctors swear to us that we didn’t give it to each other because it’s not contagious (only Chicken Pox is), but the irony is uncanny. Anyway….

Before we got our gender reveal ultrasound, I knew it was a boy. About a year before all of this, I thought I was pregnant. I had been in such conversation with God and He was clearly telling me that I was going to have a baby boy, and that if I would just trust Him (and SURRENDER) that His timing was perfect. So after my period was 2 weeks late, and I said ok God, bring on that baby boy, He gave me my period instead. I thought he was just teaching me surrender, and then was so relieved when it wasn’t actually a baby, but I was confused because he clearly told me that He was going to give Chris and I a baby boy. And He did, just not until a year and a half later. Needless to say though, I wasn’t surprised when the ultrasound tech told us it was a boy, I already knew that this was the boy God had promised me before. It was time now.

(Gender Announcement) 

I was planning to give birth at the birth center in Statesville again. Chris and I had had such a great experience with the care we got there that we couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. I did have one fear though. The fear of having to birth another 11 pound baby naturally. Milo had gone all the way to 42 weeks and I DID NOT want to do that again, for the misery of being pregnant that long, and for having to give birth to a bigger baby. Just like buns, the longer they cook, the bigger they get, so I wanted him a little smaller and soft in the middle lol, not big and burnt like Milo was! That being said, I was doing everything, again, to have him as early as I could. Sex every day. Evening Primrose Oil. Red Raspberry Leaf Tea. Acupressure. Nipple Stimulation. And even the dreaded Castor Oil! There’s no desperation like a woman at the end of a pregnancy. Was I trusting God and surrendering like He’d been trying to teach me again and again? Nope. I was begging for a baby, once again. You think I would have learned by now!



It’s week 39 and everything was normal. Feeling all of the things, as hot as ever (it was the 4th of July), and just waiting on this baby. We went to the birth center a couple of times that week for the old membrane sweep, just to see if we could get the show on the road, and prayed it would do something. I’d been taking nightly Epsom salt baths, trying to relax and massage all of my muscles, and again, all of the things to naturally induce labor, and I still found myself getting SO frustrated. I even went to another wedding so close to my due date (just like I did with Milo), but Jentzen decided to stay put (just like Milo).

(Bess and David's Wedding, 39+ Weeks) 

I had reached the point where I was done showing my face at church (I reached this point with Milo too). I didn’t want to hear another person tell me how huge I was, that they couldn’t believe I was still pregnant, or ask me when I was going to have that baby. So I dropped off the kids at the door and went home to nap and cry. And take some more castor oil.

By that afternoon I had reached my give up point once again. I told Chris to get a babysitter (thank you Jenna!) because we were going to go on a date that night. I was done moping around and I was going to enjoy the little time we had left before Jentzen came. I hopped in the shower, and within a couple of hours, we were headed to The Bonefish Grill, our official date spot. It was a Sunday evening, a day of the week we never go out on, because…church.

On the way to the restaurant, I told Chris where I was. I told him that I was done trying to put myself into labor and that I would just accept whatever God had planned (what I should have been doing all along). When our food arrived, Chris said a prayer before we ate, not just over our food, but about our surrender to God and His will and our trust in Him in all of this. After the prayer, we were talking about the relief it was not to be trying to go into labor anymore, and just being able to rest in the peace of God’s plan. And at that moment…my water broke!

Isn’t it funny how when I finally surrendered to God, let go, and relaxed, He broke my water? Another lesson in surrender to build my faith story.

That was one of the most surreal moments of my life. I was sitting in a booth, covered in amniotic fluid. Neither of my other labors did my water ever break on its own, and I was well into labor when somebody broke it. But here I was, on a date with my husband, with a broken water, just like the movies. Except there was no rush to the hospital!
(PSA- you do NOT have to rush to the hospital if your water breaks, unless it’s green in color-mine was not. Under the care of a midwife, you have up to 72 hours after your water breaks for labor to start on its own before they need to intervene!)

In that moment, I looked at Chris and as still and calm as can be, I simply told him, “My water just broke.” I think he did a double take because he couldn’t believe it either. “What do we do?” he said. I immediately responded “get the check!”

My other two labors kicked into gear when my water was finally broken, and I thought that would happen here too, so we didn’t finish our food or drinks, we just paid and left. But not before I had to scar a bus boy for life (he was no more than 17) by asking him for some bar rags/towels so that I could sop up the mess I had made all over the bench! The look on his face when I told him what had happened was priceless!! Thankfully I was wearing a black dress, so when I stood up you couldn’t really tell what had happened unless you were really paying attention.

Excited, we called our sitter, Jenna, on the way home to let her know we’d be there early, but that we wanted her to stay through bedtime just in case we had to leave in a hurry. We also called my mom over, and let my sister know to be on call to come and watch the kids. But I’d yet to have a single contraction. Had I known I wouldn’t actually be in labor for awhile, I would have stayed at the restaurant, enjoyed my meal, and gone out to the movies afterward!! Lessons learned!

When nothing was happening still that evening, we all decided to get some rest. Mom went home and Chris and I went to bed, disappointed, but at least happy to be getting some sleep before hard labor would begin.

The next day was Monday and Chris took the kids to daycare like normal, but he took the day off of work (as did I lol) and came home to be with me. I had been in touch with my midwife and she encouraged me to do castor oil, nipple stimulation and such to get contractions going. Here I was again. Same spot. Same desperation. Same discouragement. Trying to get labor to start, except this time, with a broken water. I was trying to do all of the things and stay up beat but I was getting really impatient. I had had all of 5 contractions since my water had broken and labor wasn’t going anywhere. And so, like 24 hours before (you think I would have learned to surrender by now…I hadn’t), I had another big fat crying session, and Chris prayed over me (again), another prayer of surrender. I had given up and given in again and was letting God take the wheel…again. As soon as Chris was done praying…my water broke. Again! Can somebody say Holy Spirit?! Did you know that there can be multiple bags of water? And that sometimes the baby’s head is blocking the forward waters after the initial waters have broken. Well, that’s what happened to me. Another sign from God that when I let Him be in charge, He moves, in perfect timing.

At that point, relaxed and ready, Chris and I both ironically decided to take a nap. My sister was going to pick the kids up from daycare for us so that we could get out one more time and finish the date that we had started the night before, since I still wasn’t having any contractions. It was a GOOD nap! But something woke me up, a feeling, not a contraction, but just a feeling. I stood up and went to change clothes, and I started shaking. My lips started chattering and I started feeling nauseas. All of these are signs of transition…the END of labor. But I still hadn’t had a contraction. I told Chris to grab our labor bag just in case I went into labor while we were out so that we’d be ready to go. I walked downstairs to the kitchen and just then, it happened. My first real contraction. And I had to grab onto Chris for support. That’s all it took. I remembered that contraction pain from Milo’s labor and I knew that this was IT. It was time to go!!! Before I could even get in the car I had another one. And before we could get out of the neighborhood, I had another one. I immediately texted and called anybody and everybody necessary and told them it was time, we were finally heading to the birth center.

It was about 5:30pm by this time, the dead of rush hour, of course. Chris was speeding most of the way because he could hear the pain in my voice. These contractions were transition contractions. This wasn’t going to be 25 hours of labor like Brinkley, or even 7-12 hours of labor like Milo. This was going to be FAST!

I timed my contractions on the way with an app on my phone, not to see if they were close together or not (they were!), but simply so I would have something to focus on for the ride (it takes a little over an hour to get there)! Chris turned on my worship playlist I had made for labor and I tried to let the words wash over me. It was a very intense car ride. Right off the highway I almost asked Chris to pull over so that I could puke…but I somehow managed to keep it in and just keep going. I knew we were close though.

When we pulled into the parking lot, my mom was already there, and the midwives were as well. The midwife met me at the car door, trying to encourage me to get out but I didn’t want to. My contractions were SO long and strong that I didn’t want to move, and moving would bring on another one, so her and her assistant essentially carried me inside. I felt like I was floating some how! Those women were strong!!

Inside, we did a quick exam just to see where I was. 7cm and 100% effaced. It was disappointing at the time, considering how much pain I was in, but she quickly encouraged me that I could easily jump to a 9 in the next contraction and not to fret, we were nearly there. I held onto Chris for one more good standing contraction, and then into the tub I went! Just like in Milo’s birth, I should have done more standing contractions and had gravity work in my favor, and sometimes being able to put all of my weight into Chris was better than being in the tub. But I knew how good it felt to get in the tub so I hopped in anyways.

Almost immediately I felt that back labor again like I had with Milo. Not an OP baby, but another giant head for sure! Chris, from experience, knew just what to do and immediately got to work on my back, giving me the counter pressure that I truly needed. He even got into the tub to get a better angle. There were a few times during contractions where I had to bite down on a towel/my hands/whatever was right in front of me to make it through the contraction. Phew they were strong!

In very little time, I felt the urge to push. I was surprised how quickly it came. I did some practice pushes in the tub, because my goal was to have a waterbirth. When I had to get out of the tub to have Milo I was so disappointed, and this time I really wanted to stay in. But I knew my body, and I knew the pain I was in. Could I have pushed him out in the tub? Sure. But I knew it would take longer. I knew if I could get back into gravity and get on the bed in a good spot that I could push him out MUCH faster. So I took control of that room. I told everybody to get ready because I was going to come to the bed. I told them to get my heating pad on there and to crank it on high because I would need it for my back. And then after the next contraction, I turned around and got out of the tub, which immediately triggered another contraction that brought me to my knees on the floor. Everybody in the room thought that I would have him right there on the floor (except maybe Chris lol), but I was determined to get to the bed (for the sake of my back pain mostly), so after one contraction on the floor, I headed to the bed and started to push with all of my might. It took me all of one contraction to get my rhythm and figure out the perfect pushing position. Chris was shocked at how quickly pushing was going since Brinks took 40 minutes and Milo took an hour, but Jentzen took maybe 5 minutes of actual pushing. Then, the moment had arrived, that moment that I had looked forward to for over nine months now. With a lot of screaming (on my end) and one last big push, he had arrived!!! He was here! And he was breathing!! They immediately put him on my chest, and what a sweet relief that brought! My sweet, slimy, Jentzen Cove Heeter, was born at 7:41pm, on July 8th, 2019.

(Jentzen's first photo) 

I couldn’t believe how quickly he came. Just over 2 hours from my first contraction, I was holding my son, and I never wanted to let go. My mom filmed the whole thing (thank you mom!), and Chris truly was my support! My best friend Louisa, who was on a family vacation two hours away in the mountains, walked in about 8 minutes after he was born! She was going to be my doula, but turns out Jentzen just couldn’t wait! But I was glad-I’ll take a fast birth every time!

(Enjoying skin to skin time with Baby J and hanging out with Mom and Louisa)

 (Skin to skin time with Dada)

 (My incredible birth team)


This birth was so healing for me, so redemptive. Poor Milo’s pregnancy and labor and delivery made me never want to do any of it again, made me afraid to be pregnant, afraid to labor, afraid to push out a large baby, and Jentzen’s birth redeemed all of that (not the morning sickness though, there was nothing redemptive about that!). It was like God knew that I needed to have Jentzen before I did, for so many reasons, one of which was that I wouldn’t fear childbirth again, and that instead I would look on it with sweet memories and be encouraged and excited by it once more!

His birth was one of the best experiences of my life. All three of their births were, in different ways. There’s just something supernatural, special, and miraculous about bringing a child into the world, and I thank God that He’s allowed me to do it three times!


(Official Birth Announcement) 





 (Family pics with Starla that we'll treasure forever) 



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