How God Gave Us Tru

 

I think it's fun to see just how much I've changed over the years, simply through the writing of these birth stories. If you like birth stories and you have plenty of time on your hands, here are Brinkley's, Milo's, and Jentzen's.

But Tru baby, this is your story!

You are almost a year old now, and as sweet and happy as can be, but I'll never forget your birth, it's one of my favorite nights of all time!

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Shortly after we had Jentzen, maybe a couple of months, a desire to have a fourth child began to stir up in my heart. I couldn’t tell anybody that of course because they would think that I was crazy (I thought I was a little crazy too), but the desire remained. Jentzen really redeemed the entire process of childbirth (not pregnancy) and having a newborn for me, and I saw what a blessing more kids could be, a total 180 from after I had Milo. I made the mistake of telling my husband this though, and after picking his jaw up off the floor, he proceeded to tell me all of the reasons why having a fourth would not be a good idea (understandably so, we had a two month old). So we tabled the conversation and said we’d revisit it the next year. I didn’t want to have another baby right away, I just wanted him to know that eventually I did. The seed was planted!

I think part of the reason I was even entertaining the idea was because somehow the transition from 2 to 3 kids was way easier than 1 to 2. Brinkley and Milo occupied each other (sometimes) so that I could focus on Jentzen. It also helped that we had since fenced in the backyard, and had been gifted a trampoline from the in-laws, so sending them outside without me needing to be out there with them was a HUGE help! Brinkley had also started Kindergarten that August, and Milo was in daycare at church, so most of my maternity leave was spent taking care of just Jentzen during work hours. It was a special bonding time that I missed out on with Milo because I was all wrapped up in trying to manage Brinkley by myself. I had also learned a thing or two in the years since, and that always helps. 

(Summer photo session with the incredible Alexa)

Later the next year when Jentzen was almost 1, Chris and I were blessed with the opportunity to get away just the two of us for 5 days to Savannah, GA and Huntsville, AL, and it was the first time we’d ever left Jentzen overnight. Once we settled in, we got the chance to talk about the idea of a fourth child. We were walking on the beach and I laid out to him all of the reasons why having a fourth child WOULD be a good idea! Some more serious than others, but all valid! I told him to just be thinking about it, praying about it, and listening to God and seeing where he felt like He was leading him. He agreed and we tabled the subject again and went on to have a fabulous trip!

(On the riverboat cruise in Savannah, GA)

A month or so later, we were having a stayte night (a date night at home after the kids are in bed!), and CHRIS actually brought up the conversation this time about having a fourth. He acknowledged that his reasons for not wanting to were mostly temporal and wouldn’t matter down the road, but he said he was still worried. In that moment, the song “I’ll Give Thanks” by Housefires was playing, and I turned it up for us to listen to while we sat there together. The lyrics sang out, “Why do I worry, why do I worry, why do I worry? God knows what I need!” Next thing I knew, Chris was praying out loud and handing it over to God. He then told me if we were going to do this, it was “now or never,” as in he wanted to stop preventing pregnancy from that point forward, instead of waiting any longer. That part surprised me because I wasn’t picturing myself ready quite yet, and ideally wanted to wait up to another year, but he was concerned about how old he was/how old he felt, and how much energy he would have for another newborn, so the sooner the better more or less. With the option of now or never, I chose now! And lo and behold, the next month (August 2020) I was holding a positive pregnancy test in my hand (which shocked both of us!). It never ceases to amaze me that no matter how or when it comes about, holding a positive pregnancy test in your hand is always so surreal. 

We were actually on a lunch break from work at home when I took the test. We wanted to be alone and without the other kiddos around. I still can't believe how we went back to work right after like nothing had happened, because on the inside, I knew we were both jumping up and down!

(Our pregnancy announcement)

One of the reasons neither of us wanted to venture down the road of having another baby was because of how hard my pregnancies are. If I had "easy" pregnancies (like some blessed women out there), and a bigger number in our bank account, we'd honestly probably have seven kids. But it's just SO hard on my body. This time we had some time to prepare for that (unlike with Jentzen), and my boss was SO generous to let me work from home during the first couple of months of the never ending misery that is my first (and most of my second) trimester. 

The pregnancy was crap. Like usual. But Chris was a champ, like usual! Months of laying in the bed throwing up all day and night. Pure exhaustion and constant nausea. Chris did such an incredible job of taking care of all three kids morning and night while I pretty much just laid in the bed and threw up for weeks on end. It wears him out as much as me. I am a blessed woman to have that man! My Aunt (who lives two minutes from us), also blessed us time after time by coming over to do laundry and dishes (things I would usually do if I wasn't feeling so poorly). She is an angel! Every little bit of help helps when I'm feeling that poorly. Our house is always in ruins when I'm pregnant so anytime anybody can help with housework, I'll take it!! And she loves on our kids so well. Bless her! I love her!

Near the end of the pregnancy I also got a bad case of SPD and just walking was difficult, let alone doing anything else. At the end of Jentzen's pregnancy I was leading a dance small group and jumping up and down to Bollywood music, but with this one I was having trouble standing. This pregnancy was by far the hardest on my body, and I’m not sure if it was because of my age (33), because it was my fourth, because he was another BIG baby, because I had him and Jentzen practically back-to-back, or a combination of those things, but it was taking me out. 

What was different about this one though was I was finally getting to do a homebirth. This had been a dream of mine since becoming a doula after I had Brinkley, but due to financial reasons, I hadn’t been able to thus far. Our insurance had changed over the years though, and now it was only going to cost us a few hundred dollars more to do it at home than to do it at the birth center like the previous two, and with all of the Covid restrictions in place everywhere, there was no better time than to do it at home! (We do love Natural Beginnings Birth Center though, it's like a second home to me!) By November we had chosen our midwife and I started having appointments soon after (at the house). We also found out that we were having another BOY! That one honestly shocked us, we BOTH were convinced it was a girl, and so was everybody else, except Milo, who was proud to be the only one who’d guessed correctly in the ultrasound room that day. We had let both "big" kids come with us for the big reveal (in hindsight, that was a mistake on my end because I got emotional after but had to hold it together for them).

The great name hunt began (we’ve had our girl name picked out since before Milo existed but boys names have always been trickier for us), and before long, we had settled on Tru. It’s a name I had been fond of in the past, but it just felt right this time. I actually had read a book a few years before where Tru was the main character’s name, and I really liked it. Solomon was one that Chris had suggested for a middle name, and the more time passed, the more I liked it! Tru quite obviously means truth! Standing on truth has become more important than ever in the times we’re living in, and we wanted him to represent THE truth! Jesus! Solomon means King of Peace, and who couldn’t use more peace in these times? Also, some of our favorite books in the bible were written by King Solomon himself. Tru Solomon, we are fans!!

(The day his name sign arrived in the mail)

As the end of the pregnancy drew near, I was eager, of course. But this time I had also become fearful, which really surprised me considering how well Jentzen's labor had gone. For some reason, as each morning would approach, I was ready for labor and ready to meet my boy (and READY to not be pregnant), but as evening came, I would feel the opposite. I didn’t want to go into labor at night, fearing I wouldn’t have the strength or energy to get through it. It honestly felt like spiritual attack. This pregnancy had brought on a vast amount of emotions that I had never experienced before, despite it being my fourth one. It honestly had a lot to do with the state of our city, county, state, country and world. I had been having anxiety like never before, and mixing that with pregnancy hormones, I was not in good shape. Again, I’m not sure why, but I was fearing the pain of labor. I had given birth naturally twice before, I knew I could do it and I knew I would and I knew it's how I wanted to, but somehow each night that I would start having contractions, I would tremble with fear, grab my heating pad and wish them away until I fell asleep. It was rather silly honestly, an emotional trap of the enemy who would have loved nothing more than to keep me in that fear. Looking back I just needed to slap myself across the face and remind myself that I am a child of GOD! And God's got this!

The day before he was due I was at my lowest point. So low in fact that I needed to take a personal day from work (thanks Chelsea for the green light there). Very few people knew about this, but I took it upon myself to drive to the beach that day. Just me, by myself, in my sweats. I drove there that morning, sat on the beach for a few hours, and drove back. It was just over a three hour drive each way, but it was worth my sanity. There's just something peaceful, calming, and relaxing about the beach, and that's what I needed in that moment. God becomes more alive to me, louder and closer when I am on the beach (without children around anyways), and I needed some time with Him, away from everything else. A sweet couple took my picture for me-it's the closest thing I got to a due date picture! (I had the least amount of "bump" pictures during this pregnancy, so it's one of few!).

(39 weeks and 6 days pregnant at Carolina Beach)

His due date (4/20) came and went with little to report. I had had my midwife check me and I had been 4cm for awhile, but with no change. His head was actually hanging in front of my cervix instead of on top of it (thank you extra stretched out uterus and extra giant baby head), so it wasn’t putting enough pressure on the cervix to get labor started quite yet. Chris’ birthday (4/25) came and went as well, although we were both kind of relieved he didn’t come that day-we both wanted Tru to have his own birthday! 

On Thursday, April 29th, I went to work as usual. I was now 41 weeks and 2 days along. I remember being in my office, sitting on and off the exercise ball like I had been for months, and feeling the Braxton hicks contractions I’d been having for weeks. By lunchtime though, they had changed. They were coming a little closer together and I could feel them deeper in my uterus. I told Chelsea that I would feel better if I could work from home that afternoon, that way if things picked up I’d already be in the place that I was giving birth. With Jentzen having a lightning fast birth, I wanted to be prepared for any scenario.

A couple of hours later I was exhausted and decided to lay down with a heating pad to get some relief. I soon drifted off and when I woke up my contractions were gone. Another false alarm (or so I thought). Chris usually isn’t home on Thursday nights, but he happened to be home on this one because he didn’t have to work that night (I can’t exactly remember why now though). I remember helping put the kids to bed and then immediately getting into the bath (this had become my nightly routine for the last month or so-thank you to the endless epsom salts!). I got comfy, reading a book, and realizing I hadn’t had dinner yet, I had Chris make me a frozen Donatos pizza. While it was cooking and I was reading in the bath, my contractions came back. I found this odd because I had my feet propped up and was in the exact opposite position I would be in if I wanted to put pressure on my cervix, but they came just the same, and this time with assurance that THIS WAS IT! By the time Chris came back with the pizza, I looked up at him and waved my hand, signaling that I was no longer hungry, and that I was indeed having a strong contraction. It was around 9:30pm. Labor had finally arrived!

I tried to continue reading as long as it continued to distract me, but I reached a point where the water was no longer warm enough and the book was no longer distracting enough. I got out of the bath and immediately had to use the bathroom, and then in the next 15 minutes I went to the bathroom about 5 more times. Yep this was it. I remember my body purging itself when I went into labor with Brinkley. I paced back and forth in the bathroom praying, praying to Jesus that He would help me through this and praying that it didn’t take too long. 

I had texted my birth team to be on call, and then about 20 minutes later I texted them back and told them all to head my way. I had Chris set up the room, getting the music going (my labor worship playlist), gathering supplies/towels, and clearing the space for the birth tub. I'm not sure how he was feeling on the inside, but he sure was calm on the outside! I got set up on the birth ball on the side of the bed and put the heating pad right in the spot where the contractions were hitting the hardest. With being in my own bedroom, good breathing, that heating pad, hip movement, and focusing on the worship music (ie-JESUS), and knowing I didn’t have to pack up and get into a moving vehicle, it was by far the most peaceful I have ever been during active labor. Time was flying by. By 11pm or so people started arriving (most of the people coming lived 45 minutes away). Louisa (my friend, Tru's Godmother, and acting doula) was first, and surprising myself we were able to chat with each other between contractions. Madi, our photographer, also arrived around the same time, although I honestly don’t remember seeing her until after the birth-I was in the zone. My mom came too (she was on kid duty, should any of our other three wake up). And of course, my wonderful midwife and her two sweet assistants arrived shortly as well. They began setting up the tub and she checked me to see whether or not they should begin filling up the tub. I was only a 6, so she suggested I move spots (I was still on the ball, it had become my safe place!). She set me up in the bathroom, on the toilet, with one leg propped up onto a stool. We moved the music into the bathroom, turned the lights down low, and Chris and Louisa joined me in there, alternating giving me counter pressure on my back. It only felt like I had been in there for 15 minutes or so, but I think I was in there for an hour or more. While in there, I shifted from active labor to transition (almost the end and the most intense part), and when my midwife came in and asked me to change positions again, my leg that had been on the stool was 100% asleep. It was the strangest feeling-it reminded me of having an epidural, except only in that leg. Chris and her had to carry me off of the toilet and back into the bedroom. It took awhile for the feeling to come completely back but it eventually did of course. So strange!

Now the contractions were very intense, but I was still able to breathe and focus on the worship music. I remember Louisa singing behind me. I also think I remember Chris making people lattes at some point…but to be fair, it was the middle of the night and I'm sure they were tired. That also might have been earlier in the evening, things get mixed up in my memory sometimes when I’m in the birth zone. I remember being at peace. I started making some noises with my contractions soon (this had definitely been my quietest labor ever and I did much better breathing than I ever had). I had been moaning a little through them on and off, but now I was gripping the blanket and pillows in front of me tightly to get through them. Thankfully though, I never once had the thought cross my mind that “I couldn’t do this.” I honestly think I could have gone a few more hours like that because of how peaceful my surroundings were. It was the most peaceful labor I’ve ever had. Thank you Jesus!

Side note, another thing that helped me get through this labor was having the honor of attending my friend Michaela’s labor and birth that previous fall. I was supposed to be her doula, and I was, but her lightning-fast labor landed me as her midwife as well, and I ended up delivering her baby in the back of her van on our way to the birth center. She was a beast. A Rockstar. A superhero. And while I was in labor, I just kept telling myself “Michaela did this in the back of a van with nothing but Jesus, I can certainly do this at home in my own bed with Jesus and every natural comfort measure available to me.” It eventually got shortened to, “Michaela did this in a van. I can do this.” I am forever indebted to her! 

At this point I started feeling pushy. I could feel my body involuntarily pushing at the peak of my contractions. I still hadn’t gotten in the tub, and was getting ready to, when my midwife checked me and told me I only had a lip of cervix left (classic-this has happened with all of my babies). She pushed it out of the way for me during my next contraction, but I don’t remember it hurting like it did with the last two. Some point soon after this while I was pushing standing up and leaned over onto my bed, my water broke. One of my big prayers this go round was that my water wouldn't break until I was pushing because I wanted the comfort of that cushion there during transition that I didn't have with Milo or Jentzen, and I was so thankful that God answered this prayer this way! Thankfully my midwife and her team were prepared and had already covered my floor with everything necessary to catch the mess. It was at this point that they asked me if I wanted to get in the tub. A water birth has been a dream of mine ever since I became a doula when Brinkley was a year old, before I got pregnant with Milo. But in the moment, my body knows I can get more leverage to push if I’m on land. I also think it has to do with the fact that I have giant babies. I could feel he was another big one while I had started to push, and my knees were shaking standing up, so I decided to forgo the tub and get onto the bed. That’s when I got really serious about pushing. Chris was on one side and Louisa on the other, and I knew he was almost here so I had asked my mom to run up and get Brinkley, who wanted to be there for the birth. We had thoroughly prepared her for what she would witness with descriptions, explanations, episodes of Call the Midwife, and Jentzen's birth video. I made sure this time not to scream my head off like I had with Jentzen (although Brinkley held her ears just in case). 

This time, pushing took about 20 minutes or so, more than Jentzen, but WAY less than Milo who was more or less the same size baby. While I was pushing Tru out, it was like he had a never-ending body. He didn’t get stuck like Milo had, but his body was so big that I had to keep actively pushing for each part, his head, more pushing, his shoulders, more pushing, his chest, more pushing, his booty, more pushing…it wasn’t until his legs that he finally finished sliding out on his own and my midwife caught him. It was so surreal that even when he was finally and officially born I kept asking if he was out yet (I was a little out of it as usual at that point). 

So, on Friday, April 30th, at 1:28am, Tru Solomon Heeter was born weighing a whopping 10 pounds, 11 ounces, and was 22 inches long. Just shy of his big brother Milo. And Brinkley Harvest herself got to cut the cord (after it was done pulsating of course)!

My midwife and her team were amazing! They cleaned everything up and made it look better than before! They took the time to show everybody the placenta, where it was attached and spread it all out and held it up. Brinkley (and Chris) were fascinated! It really is a miraculous thing! They also made sure I ate-Rudd Farm strawberries was my snack of choice and they were as delicious as ever! I also had some cold pizza leftover from four hours earlier. My mom put Brinkley back to bed around 5am or so (and she got up 2 hours later because she was still so excited), and at some point before all of that, Madi and Louisa had left. While Chris slept beside me, and Tru slept on top of me, I couldn’t sleep because of the awe I felt over everything that had just taken place. (Get ready for a post birth photo dump!)

Don’t tell my other children, as it wasn’t their fault at all of course, but this was by far my favorite birth. There’s just something extra special about having a baby in your own home, and for me, my own bed, that just couldn’t top anything else. It was so peaceful, and I honestly actually thoroughly enjoyed it. I even miss it. I was surrounded by an incredible team, family and friends, and above all, Jesus. 

Tru, you are a treasure, and I thank you and God for the honor of giving birth to you. 

(Thank you Madi for capturing the birth and Tru's newborn pics! They will be forever treasured!)

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 3^rd 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 4^th 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 8^th, 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)