Robin's Birth Story

The days before Robin’s birth were some of the longest of my life. Not because I was tired of carrying him or eager to get him out, but because I was inching closer and closer to having to forgo my dream homebirth for a hospital induction. He was in no rush.Two weeks past my due-date and I had tried every trick in the book…the dates, the raspberry leaf tea, deep squats, long walks, even the dreaded Midwives Brew with castor oil. He wouldn’t budge. 

I spent the morning of the birth with my Midwife tired and teary-eyed. She was so encouraging even though I know she could tell I was losing stamina. I didn’t mind going past my due date but the more I grappled with having to give up being in the comfort of my own home, with the kids nearby and with the care I had spent my entire pregnancy under,, the more antsy I became. Forcefully breaking my water would be the last resort but deep down I just wanted the baby to come naturally, in his or her own timing. One of my favorite things about labor has always been how it surprises you and comes when you least expect it– no matter how hard one tries to predict it, no mother knows the exact time her body is going to initiate labor. I wanted to be surprised by God’s timing instead of forcing their arrival. 

On the way home from visiting her, I stopped by mom and dad’s where Lilias and Finlay were napping. I swam with Lilias while Finlay finished his nap. There are no words for the relief a pool gives to a 42-week pregnant woman in the heat of Florida’s spring (which feels a whole lot like Summer). I walked up and down their stairs and did some curb-walking along their street to try to help the baby engage. The whole day I was mentally releasing control and trying to accept the possibility of being induced in the hospital. I had another ultrasound scheduled for the next day to check the baby’s fluid levels. 

God’s timing is not ours. Baby was safe and comfortable and would come in the exact way God had planned. 

When it was time to leave and I was packing up to go home, I felt a sharp contraction– not like the ones I had experienced before. Something about this one made me have to stop and wait before buckling the kids in the car. Mom was loading an incredible curry into the car so that we didn't have to worry about dinner. (Everyone who knows my mom knows that you never leave her house empty-handed. In fact, you will often have to make multiple trips back inside to retrieve the bounty of groceries and meals she sends you home with.) Watching me breathe through another contraction, a look of worry came across her face, “Are you sure you should be driving?” I assured her that it would be fine and I would have plenty of time to settle in at home. “But I may be seeing you tonight–keep your phone on!” Excitement was building. 

On the drive home the contractions continued to come, and pretty close together too. Lilias asked me “Why do you sound like that mama?” I texted Shane, later to find out that he was in a flurry at home getting the house ready in case this was the day. I dropped off some curry to Kelly who lives down the street. When I was passing her the dish another powerful contraction came that made me have to lean over the car. I needed to get home. Internally, I was preparing myself for what I thought would be a very long night ahead of me. 

I pulled in, got out of the car and immediately rushed for the warm relief of a shower. Shane had cleaned the house, lit candles and was playing my birth playlist. He was so jolly and ready to help. We would have dinner together, tuck the kids in, and then labor peacefully throughout the night. The baby would come in the early morning hours or tomorrow afternoon, we guessed. 

Right before hopping in the shower, I texted my midwife, April, “It’s happening!” The contractions were mounting. I was now having to vocalize through them but the warm water was relieving. While in the shower and without me knowing, my midwife had texted: “Should I come now?”  Once out of the shower, I responded “Maybe wait a bit? I think it may still be too early” but at that point she had already jumped in her car and was on her way. She assured me that she could just be around and hang out even if I wasn’t far along. I didn’t want to speak too soon and have her come too early just to find out that I hadn't progressed more. I was familiar with the long-haul of labor and I didn't want to rush anyone into thinking this was an emergency. 

Looking back, I can see God’s provision in missing her text and discovering that she was already well on her way. If I had stalled her anymore, she would have missed the entire birth. 

The next thirty minutes would be some of the most intense minutes of my life. Almost immediately after texting her to hold off coming, another contraction came and I felt the overwhelming urge to push. I leaned over the edge of the bed and felt like I could barely move. I quickly screamed for Shane who was in the middle of changing Finlay’s diaper. Not having time to finish, he just threw him in the bath and rushed to my aid.  Sweet Lilias seemed alarmed at my sudden change in tone. I was serious and panicked. I had never felt such an intense urge to push and I knew that if I continued to labor standing this baby would fall out of me. “You need to call April.” In the flurry of all of it we couldn't find the phone to call for a solid ten minutes. Finally finding it buried under the sheets, he gave her the heads up that I was pushing. Thank God, she was 10 minutes out. But 10 minutes has never felt so long. 

Each contraction that came felt more intense. I was unable to resist the urge to push. I yelled to Shane to help me take off my shorts and apply back pressure. He laid me down on the bed which gave me enough time to wait for April. Now gravity was not working against me. 

With each contraction I buried my head into the pillow and squeezed. Being swallowed by the darkness of my pillow felt safe. My birth pool was in the other room and waiting for me but there wasn’t time to fill it and I didn’t think I would be able to get up and walk there. 

I felt concerned for Lilias who was witnessing the whole thing. This was nothing like the calm birth videos we had watched together in preparation. This was fast and furious. I had imagined getting to labor in the tub, maybe do some light housework, and baking up some sourdough cookies that we had prepared for the labor team. I had imagined getting to sit on my birth ball, go on a family walk, listen to my playlist, tuck the kids into bed and then slowly and peacefully move through the motions of labor through the night before things amped up in the morning. There was no mental preparation for this type of birth. 

I felt instant relief at the sight of April coming through the door. She was the calming presence I needed to quiet my panicking. She quickly took out her medical tools from her bag and set up her camera to capture the whole thing for us. I remember calling her name when the contractions would swell and her even taking a moment from the flurry of preparing the necessary tools to let me squeeze her hand. Shane and April were a great team, quickly working together to shove the shower curtain under the sheets to save the mattress from getting stained despite my resistance to moving. Little did I know that 10 minutes after her arrival the baby would be joining us. 

“Come now” Shane texted to my mom and sisters, my faithful cheerleaders at every birth. Kelly lives down the street and was able to make it shortly after April arrived. She sat down next to Lilias on the bed and was able to assure her that everything was fine. I hated the idea of Lilias’ being afraid of what was transpiring and I felt so relieved when Kelly was there to hold her hand. Lilias handed me the picture of Robin’s ultrasound between one of the contractions, to remind me of what was on the other end. I remember squeezing her hand during one of the contractions but being afraid that I was squeezing too tight. I didn’t know what to do with the tension that would build during each wave. 

Some fears cropped up again during my labor. Being two weeks overdue, I knew my chances of having a large baby were high. Between contractions, when I was able to talk, I expressed my concern to April.  “I’m not worried about it at all…sometimes even 10lb babies slide right out” she assured me. Later we would laugh at the irony of that statement. Between contractions a peace would come. I was able to talk with everyone and we even laughed together at the surprise of the series of events. I asked Lilias if she thought it would be a little sister or another little brother. Everyone laughed each time I would apologize for being too loud.  I asked Kelly to tell me something true. “Your people are here. You are safe.”  I didn’t need to be afraid. Though faster than I imagined, this was the exact way God intended for me to bring my baby into the world. None of it was a surprise to Him. 

The contractions were overpowering. I breathed deep and low and squeezed the pillow. Shane squeezed my hips with each swell. The pressure he placed on my lower back was incredibly helpful and I relied on it each time. Each push would expose baby’s head a little more. I voiced some fear over birthing the head. I remembered that being the hardest part in my two previous births, more for the mental hurtle that it is.

I couldn't believe that we were already at this point. 

With another contraction, the head was born and my water was still intact. Baby was en-caul. I remember watching a couple birth videos during my pregnancy of en-caul babies and being fascinated by them. What a peaceful entrance into the world for them!

Between the next contraction I felt baby rotate in my pelvis. It took me off guard because it didn’t happen during a contraction and I wasn’t ready for the strange sensation. The next swell came and with all the strength I could muster, I birthed my baby’s body. Right away Shane exclaimed: “A boy! It’s a boy, tor! You did it! It’s already done!” I was shaking and crying. I had an inkling that he was a boy because he looked so much like his big brother on the ultrasound. 

The next moments were blurry with the overwhelming relief of being done. In ninety minutes of labor, I had birthed our third child, weighing in at a whopping 10 pounds. The thing I had waited so long for was here. I finally got to meet him. There was the usual scurry of the midwife checking him. He was a bit purple and slow to breathe but with a little rubbing he let out a deep, vigorous wail. Shane finally took Finlay out of the tub. He had been playing sweetly there for the entire duration of the labor. He came in and met his new brother. 

April’s birth assistant rang the doorbell and came in to find the baby had already been born. She helped deconstruct the birthing tub in the other room. My mom and other sister entered the house quietly, thinking they were walking in on a focused, laboring house only to find the baby laying on my chest. They screamed in joy when they saw him and cried and hugged each other. 

All was not euphoric. I still had to birth the placenta. And after that, the postpartum cramps began, feeling almost as intense as labor contractions. I continued to bleed. My midwife, seeing me grow pale, took my blood pressure. I was a point away from needing to be sent to the hospital, and on the verge of hemorrhaging. As the minutes passed, I felt more and more weak. I went to stand up and go to the bathroom and felt dizzy. Wanting to avoid a hospital visit and a transfusion, I quickly ordered the iron pills that she recommended and Shane and Kelly worked to get a Nettle tea infusion going as well as some beef liver pills. Over the next weeks I would slowly build up my blood again. It took a long time for me to feel my energy return. 

Kelly baked up some of the sourdough cookies for us all to feast on. My mom handed out bowls of curry. I remember that feeling like the best thing I had ever tasted, after the war I had just been through. From my bed, I could hear everyone chatting and laughing out at the dinner table and all reveling in the excitement. I was tired but so, so happy. 

Here we were, in the glow of being a family of five. Lilias starred in amazement. So many nights before tucking her in we had watched the baby in my belly turn and move. We dreamed about what he or she would be like and what we would name them. Lilias’ eyes would widen as we watched birth videos together after naptime. And here was sweet little Robin Heath, laying on me now, the culmination of all that waiting. His breathing synchronized to mine and I couldn’t stop staring at him, overwhelmed by how beautiful he was—  so worth the wait. It is true that just when you think you don't have any more love to give, your heart expands with the next child that is entrusted to your care. It is love’s nature to always make room for more. There is no running out of it.

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This was Robin Heath.

So many things drew us to the name Robin. 

Robin’s have been my favorite bird since a time in South Carolina, at our first home. A migration of hundreds of robins landed in our yard– so many you could hardly see the grass. I never forgot the beauty of that moment. Of all places to land for a respite, hundreds of  orange-bellied birds in perfect unison landed here, in our yard– maybe just to wake us up from whatever mundane coma we were in with a glimpse of grandeur. It felt like the most serendipitous surprise from God. 

During my pregnancy, I would read Lilias and Finlay CS Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, cuddled up on the red couch after naps, with sippy cups of orange juice in hand. CS Lewis loved robins and in his book the bird was a symbol of hope that winter would end. The Robin is the harbinger of spring, leading the weary children to Aslan. A sighting of the robin is said to be the very first sign of spring. In one of my favorite books of all time, The Secret Garden, the Robin leads Mary to the key that opens the door to the secret garden.

It reminds me of Song of Songs 2:11-12  “Behold, the winter has past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come.” With its budding flowers and greening hills, spring is a symbol of hope and rebirth. And just like that, our prayer for his little life is that it brings light and hope to a wintering world where darkness often seems to prevail. We pray that his life would be one of joy and brightness that would remind those around him of this jubilant singing that we are called to. 

“Heath” after the fields of heather in England that stole our heart, and where his story began. The place where God gave us the desire for another child to care for and nourished us with the beauty of those purple-laden hikes. There was no better way to start a life than in a season of joy and beauty and laughter. That's what England was for us, and some of our favorite family memories were made there. 

Together, a bird and a flower, his name reminds me of when Jesus tells his disciples to “consider the birds of the air and the flowers of the field…” and goes on to exhort them to live a life free from worry and anxiety being confident of the Father’s unrelenting love and care. “Are you not more valuable than they?” We know that Robin has been born into an age of worry and stress but we pray that he lives above it all and instead “lies down in green pastures” and is led “beside still waters,” by the good and faithful Shepherd all of his days.