They Tell Me... (Feb. 1, 2020)

For my babies Enoch and Elijah,

They tell me that I have to let myself grieve, but they don't tell me how.

They tell me to get some rest, but not about the sleepless nights I'll lie awake thinking of you.

They tell me that you're safe in Jesus' arms, but not about the loneliness I'll feel being without you.

They tell me that when you opened your eyes for the first time, the first thing you saw was Jesus' face, but not how I'll feel angry that it wasn't mine. I wanted to be the first person you saw; I wanted to hold you in my arms, look into your tiny eyes and tell you how beautiful you are.

They tell me that I will see you again, but not how deeply sorrowful I will feel to have lost you until then.

They tell me that it wasn't meant to be, but not how to fight the pain of accepting what is.

They tell me they're so sorry and try to act like they aren't worried about my bad luck rubbing off on them, but I can see the fear in their eyes and they don't tell me how I'll feel like the death angel won't ever leave my side.

They tell me that I need to find peace and comfort in God, but not how often I'll have to do so.

They tell me it's not my fault, but not how often I'm gonna believe it was.

They tell me that maybe God is trying to tell me something, but not that the act of love in marriage and every single child and life that it bears are a gift from God.

They tell me that I need to take a break, but they don't know the steps I've taken or that it's really none of their business.

They tell me that it's good that it happened earlier, rather than later, but not how long I will feel this emptiness.

They tell me that you are gone, but not why it feels like you are still growing inside me.

They tell me that my body will be out of wack, but not about the food cravings, the phantom kicks, the engorgement, the hormones, or the chills.

They tell me that it will get better, but they don't know that the moment I knew you were there, you were with me everyday - in my every thought. Or how I started to dream and make plans for you and wonder about you growing up and who'd you'd become.

They tell me and tell me, but now I've stopped listening, because I know that nothing they say will make anything better.

Peter's Birth Story - Our First Home Birth

With Peter, I finally got my dream birth! He was born at home and he was born quickly. Here's the story...

I had had contractions off and on throughout the night. I woke up at 5:30 AM with a “bloody show”. I decided to get up, go downstairs, and eat a little something: toast with grape jam and water. After eating, I labored some on the couch in my living room, but when my boys woke up earlier than normal and began to get rowdy and loud, I decided to move upstairs to the nursery and labor in the rocker. I sat in the rocker and rocked at first, but that became unbearable, so I got on my knees, laid my head in the rocker's seat and rocked back and forth as I worked through each contraction. I had consistent contractions from 5:30 to 6:40 about 7-10 min apart.

Maybe around 8am, I started to feel a lot of pressure, so, in my not wanting to make a mess on the nursery floor, I went to the toilet. I thought that maybe my water was breaking or I had a bowel movement. While there, I shut the door and the windows, because I live in a duplex. Little did I know that Peter was coming and very fast at that. Sitting over the toilet, I began to have very intense contractions. I was in transition but didn't know it until I reached down and felt Peter's head!

Oh boy! He was coming, and I was alone. I called out several times for Isaiah from the toilet, but he did not come. So I stood up, walked to the door, opened it, and called him again — still no answer. I walked out into the hallway and called again — still, he did not come. I finally gave up, walked back into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and gave birth to Peter on my own. He flew right out and landed in the toilet. I immediately scooped him out. It frightened me that he wasn't crying and appeared to be asleep, so I laid him on his belly over my arm and gently patted his back until he made a tiny wail. I stood up again, walked out into the hall, and called for Isaiah again — and he still didn't come. I sat on the toilet again and delivered the placenta. I then laid Peter against my chest and looked around for something to keep him warm. We had just washed the towels the day before, so there were no towels in the bathroom; the only thing within my reach was my hand towel, which didn't cover him all the way, but I figured it was better than nothing. I was in my nightgown, but it was so wet and kind of cold that I took it off and laid him against my body instead.

It was at this moment that I realized I had my phone beside me the whole time. I decided to call my midwife. She was in her car already on the way. I gave her the run down, and she said Peter sounded fine and assured me that everything was okay. She asked where Isaiah was, and I said that I didn't know. I told her it never occurred to me to call him, though I had my phone with me the whole time. I was so wrapped up in the moment. She instructed me to hang up with her, call Isaiah, and then to call her back. I called Isaiah.

He answered, “Hello”

I said, "Um, I need you, I have the baby in my arms".

He hung up, and I called my midwife again and put her on speaker phone.

Isaiah finally came!! And his mother was right behind him. He just stood at the door, I guess not knowing what to do next. The bathroom floor was wet with waters and some blood, and there I was on the toilet in my birthday suit with Peter in my arms. It was probably a bit of a shock for him. He said later that he felt disappointed with himself for not being there for me, but he was caring for our other children, so I don't hold it against him — it's just how it happened. Mom was ready to help in anyway she could. Paula instructed us on what we should do next. Mom started to clean up the floor, but Paula asked her to leave it all there so that she could see how much fluid/blood I had lost. Paula instructed us to get me into my bed. So Mom left for a moment to get Hannah so that she could hold Levi while Isaiah and she worked. When she came back, she and Isaiah covered my bed. Isaiah put on a pair of gloves, got the hospital basin that we had saved from Levi's birth, had me stand up so that he could put the placenta into it and carry it behind me as I made my way to the bed with Peter still in my arms. Once we got to the bed, I had Peter nurse, and we stayed there waiting for my midwife to come. At that point, Hannah and Mom left to take the boys, who had been waiting down in the car with their Pappy and the girl cousins to go to the Train Museum.

My midwife finally arrived; she looked over me and said that I had torn a bit. I had torn with my first 3 children and needed stitches, and I dreaded needing them again. I asked her if I needed stitches; begged of her not to give me them unless I absolutely needed them, and she decided that I didn't need them as long as I would rest and keep my legs uncrossed. That I could do. It was a victory to me to not need stitches. They have always been worse to me than the birth experience. Yay for no stitches!!! My midwife's helper showed up shortly and they began the work of cleaning up the bathroom and hallway mess. My midwife showed us the placenta, Peter got dressed, and we cuddled some more to keep him warm. I handed him off to Isaiah, so that I could get a shower. After that, Peter got his full check up. He weighed in at 11lbs and was 22 inches long. We didn't know the exact time he was born, so we went with 8:35 am on a Saturday morning in May 2017.

In case you are wondering where Isaiah was during Peter's birth, here's his perspective on the whole thing:

As I was calling for Isaiah, he was outside talking with the neighbors, and the boys were running back and forth on the porch. He didn't hear me over the cars and the boys. He sent Nehemiah and Valiant in to go potty, but none of them heard me calling. Then Isaiah's Parents, Hannah, and her girls showed up outside to take Nehemiah and Valiant to the Train Museum. So he went to help them get into the car. I was on the phone with Paula, and Isaiah heard that but still didn't come up. So I called Isaiah on his phone and told him "I need you, I have the baby in my arms" in which case he finally came and mom came behind him, and she helped clean up the blood and waters that were all over the floor. I was sitting on the toilet with baby in arms and Placenta in the toilet. Isaiah and mom put covers on the bed so Peter and I could be more comfortable until the midwife came. Mom went to get Hannah so that she could hold Levi while they worked. Midwife Paula was on her way but had no GPS so she was getting a bit lost and Isaiah had to give her directions. Mom and Hannah left before Midwife came. Paula came, and Mary Ellen came a bit later.

Prayer Has Changed My Life!

I've been thinking and praying over Isabella's Lullaby for some time now; it hasn't come to me just yet, but I've been learning many things. Today as I've been writing about life surrounding her conception and birth, it's got me thinking about prayer.

Prayer...some think that God hears them and some don't. I believe that God hears and answers all my prayers - He answers them all in different ways though - either "Yes", "No", or "Wait". Prayer has been a huge part of my life and I can't live without it. It's second nature to ask God for things or just to have conversations with Him or to vent or to just express myself in anyway that I need to with Him. He is my best friend. He always hears me and He always answers, but it's not always the answer that I want. In a way, it is just like me with my kids, I always give them an answer to their questions and pleas, it's just not always what they want to hear, but I still answer them, just as God always answers me. I personally have never had years of silence from God. Not that I don't believe in it; I just haven't experienced it. Anytime that I thought He was being silent, I was just ignoring what He was telling me and blaming it on Him for being silent. Another thought for another day.

I asked God for a little girl for a few years. Nehemiah came, then Valiant; I asked God for a girl, but He gave Levi; I asked Him again, but He gave Peter; I asked Him yet again and He finally said "Yes" and has given us our Isabella. I prayed for Isabella 3 times before God finally said yes. But two times He answered me, with "No, you need this boy." And He knew better than I. For I would not trade Levi or Peter for two girls. I love my boys so very much.

God has given me so much understanding when I was faced with disappointment of being told "No" again and again. He's taught me not to give up asking for what I want and to seek Him for when He says "No" and not to become anger and bitter at Him for "messing up" my life. This is just one of many examples that I could give in the story of how Prayer has Changed my Life. God is good; He works things out for my good; He is not out to "mess up" my life but to make it beautiful and show Himself in the experiences that He gives to me.

Anyway, I hope this is a blessing to someone. I hope that you will keep on praying to God and building a relationship with Him and come to understand Who He is and how much He desires to be in your life. I hope that you will, if you don't already, have many stories about How Prayer Has Changed Your Life. I'd love to hear your story/stories

I'm Doing the Best I Can

Doing the Best I Can

Copyrighted by Elizabeth Claytor

August 8, 2018

Stanza 1

They say, “There's nothing to it?!

Why can't you just do it?!”

They don't understand.

I'm doing what I can to stand.

My health tends to stop me;

Things just don't come easy.

They ask, “Then why NUMBER FIVE?! Are you okay?!”

As if it's a price they personally have to pay.

Which leads me to say,

“Why, yes, I'm outnumbered

Some days I'm even cumbered

But truthfully, I've got to say

I'm happier than

I have ever been.

I'm doing the best I can

To follow God's great plan.

I'm doing the best I can

To become a better woman.

I'm doing the best I can

To remember my name is Anne.

I'm doing the best I can

To trust in His Grace and it's span.”

Stanza 2

They said they're my family

But haven't been there for me.

When I needed them around,

They were no where to be found.

So I am all alone

Doing it on my own.

No mother here

To dry my tear.

So I'm making a family of my own.

They are all I have; I'm finally not alone.

I'm Deserted, Abandoned, Cast Out NO MORE!!!

Now I'm Wanted, Needed and Loved for sure!!!

I'm doing the best I can

To follow God's great plan.

I'm doing the best I can

To become a better woman.

I'm doing the best I can

To remember my name is Anne.

I'm doing the best I can

To trust in His Grace and it's span.

Stanza 3

And behind all of this is a story

That I wanna use for His glory.

When my children ask of the Hope in me

I'll share this with them and I pray they'll see.

I'm doing my best to give you what I never got -

Unconditional love, forgiveness, the whole lot.

I'll be there for you, even when you're not.

I'll forgive you right there on the spot.

I'll always be your mother;

You won't have to look to another.

I'll be here for you.

I promise you.

I'm doing the best I can.

To make you a better man.

I'm giving it all I've got.

To give you a better shot!!

Though I come from a broken past.

Though I come from a very rough start.

Though I come from an unfit home.

Though I come from a loser mother.

Your story can be another!!!

You can let God make you His own!!!

You can let God change your heart!!!

You can have a life that will last!!

You can do so much greater!

You can have it so much better!

You can do the best you can!

To serve a greater Man!!

Someone's Gotta Care for the Broken

Some people don't get the opportunity to come into the world and have the "easy life"; some come into it expecting joy only to experience so much sorrow. There are some people whom the world literally breaks. They don't see sin as a toy to play with. They see death; they've experienced the hurt. They might not know the word for it, but they know evil when they see it and they hate it because evil kills. They've experienced sin's destruction first-hand. Sin destroyed them.

Some children are victims of their parents' sins. Some children had pain inflicted on them because their parents didn't know God or didn't even have a moral code. Someone's gotta be there for children like that. They don't deserve the life they got. They didn't choose it. Why should they have to pay for the sins of their fathers and mothers? Aren't they the innocent ones? Shouldn't someone care? Shouldn't someone have compassion enough to inconvenience their "own" life and open up their hearts to the broken? A broken child turns into a broken adult which turns into a broken society. Someone's gotta care. Someone's gotta reach these children and share the Gospel with them because that's the only way they can be different from their parents. That's the only way they can stop the trend. Children like these need help. They need a loving hand to guide them. They need someone to finally take notice of them and care. God is the only one who can fix the broken and someone's gotta have the heart to follow God's command and go reach the children and give them a better chance at life.

I was a broken child and someone cared for me. Someone finally saw me and I am much better off because of it. I've got a story to tell now; I've a got a story that can bring God glory because He did the impossible in my life. But He used a person, no several people, to do it. God could do this again for someone else, if only one of His people would care.

Isaiah got the opportunity to reach a child in Steelton today, because he went out. He obeyed God's call. He was faithful to sit and wait even though it looked like no one was coming. God sent him a little child because Isaiah was faithful. I'm so glad I married a man who cares for the broken.

Nehemiah's Birth Story

Nehemiah Job was born in April 2013 at 10:10pm. He weighed 9 lbs 7 oz and was 21 inches long. I labored with him for about 6 hours, most of which was done at home, in retrospect, my husband and I say that we should have just had him at home. Nehemiah's birth was the most traumatic of all of my boys. We had a terrible experience at Harrisburg Hospital; it was a nightmare. All of the people involved (doctor, nurses, mil) freaked out and made the experience that much worse to where we decided to get out of the OBGYN system and find something better. Thankfully, we found Dr. Abbott and we have had two pleasant experiences with him of which I have already shared in both Valiant and Levi's birth stories.

I began having contractions every 5 minutes on a Wednesday in April around 4:30pm. I called Isaiah at 5:30pm to let him know about my contractions. He came home from work around 6:15pm. He called his Mom shortly after and then the doctor. The doctor was supposed to call us back soon, but did not. He called the doctor again at 7:45pm after I saw some blood on my pad. The doctor finally called back and said to come to the hospital. So I ventured my very much in labor self down our 23 stairs and out to the car. I had to stop halfway down due to a contraction and then stop again at the bottom to deal with yet another. I got into the car and it was THE WORSE CAR RIDE EVER. I could feel every bump and what was worse, when we got to the hospital we had to follow a detour and ended up parking in the Visitor Parking rather than the Emergency Parking. So I had to do some more walking and stopping. No one offered me a wheel chair as I walked in; no one seemed to noticed how much I was in labor.

We got to the hospital around 8:30pm. There was no room for us in the Inn. All of the private labor rooms were taken, so they put me in a bed in a shared labor area. I told them I was ready to push, but they still wanted to check to see if I was fully dilated. As they checked, my water broke and they told me, that I couldn't have the baby there and they'd have to move me to another room. They took me to an operating room and I delivered Nehemiah on a flat C-section table. I delivered him up-hill, flat on my back, the way that I had read was THE WORSE way to have a baby. No comfy pillows, no adjustable bed, no quiet, peaceful environment, not one of the things that they had promised me I would have when we had walked through the hospital tour.

So yeah, I was in the crowning or transitional stage (pushing) for about an hour. I used no pain medications or drugs. I had wanted to give birth in the squatting position, but that clearly didn't happen, they didn't even give me the option, but God gave me the grace and strength to deliver on my back. As I said, everything about this labor was a nightmare. I was not happy with the doctor at all, but there wasn't anything that I could do about it. When we had her in the regular visit, I begged God not to have her on the day of my birth, but God had His reasons for saying “No” and I had to accept His will and way. I labored in the way I had not wanted to. I wanted to be solely in control of my pushing efforts, but the doctor was in a hurry and kept pressing me to push when I really wasn't ready to. She was very pushy; I really don't handle pushy, bossy, rude people well. Being yelled at to push was not my idea of a calm, relaxing, peaceful birth. I felt very pressured and like I was holding everyone up so I tried to make people happy and pushed when I knew I wasn't even having a contraction. It was so hard to even focus on when my contractions were coming because of all of the noise and freaking out going on in the room. Needless to say, labor was hard, but I coped through thinking of God and asking Him for strength to do what I felt was impossible.

So when Nehemiah's head finally came out, the doctor freaked out saying that his shoulders were stuck and one of the nurses jumped on top of me and push down very hard on my stomach to get Nehemiah to pop out, while the doctor pulled on Nehemiah at the other end. Thankfully, Nehemiah, sucking on his right hand, came out just fine; he was healthy and wasn't hurt in the process. They laid him on my chest and he was a consoling distraction from all of the pain that I had suffered. I suffered 4th degree tears, which took an excruciating hour to sew up. I'd take another hour of labor over that horrible hour of being stitched up any day. My whole body ached and I couldn't get up or move much without severe pain. I couldn't sit down for a few weeks afterwards; I cried about how I looked down there and thought I'd never look normal again or stop being in so much pain, but eventually I did heal.

After being stitched they took me to the Recovery Room to check up on me and Nehemiah; they weighed him and Isaiah watched over them to be sure they didn't do anything that he didn't want then to; he had to sign a lot of exemption papers and read through each one. I'm so thankful he did all of that, because I was in no position to read or think about much. For me, they insisted that I pee and asked me if I could get up. I tried to and nearly fainted, so they used a catheter, which the nurse didn't put in the right spot the first time and had to try again. It was annoying, but I still put on a smile and tried to be as kind and happy as I could considering the night. I did a lot of praying, especially for my husband, because he had to watch it all and was doing all he could to protect us from all of their nonsense.

We finally got out of that room and were taken to the Postpartum Room where we thought we might get some rest, but that didn't happen, because someone came in to check on us every 2 hours. They wanted to give Nehemiah a bath and we let them since, he pooped all over me as soon as he came out. We had wanted to wait on that so that his vernix could do it's thing, but that also didn't work out for us. In the postpartum room, I wish that I could have held Nehemiah more and been able to get him for myself, even to bathe him for the first time myself, but I wasn't able to. I was a beached whale. I was too weak and had to stay in one position or else I caused myself horrible pain. He did breastfeed well, though and even though that also caused me pain, I dealt with it for his sake and it was a precious time regardless. We read in the Bible that child birth is painful, and my first most definitely was that indeed, but it was nothing in comparison to the joy of seeing Nehemiah for the very first time and holding him close to my chest, even if he did poop all over me.

I think we spent about 2 and a half days at the hospital and left late in the afternoon on Friday. Thursday was spent reading and signing informational pages, watching required videos, learning how to breastfeed, learning how to get to the bathroom on my own, showering and entertaining a few visitors: Isaiah's Mom and Rachel. On Friday, it took them forever to discharge us, but we eventually made our escape. We may have done a hearing screening on that day and Jaundice test. We definitely met with a pediatrician who told us all about the monkey reflex and how Nehemiah was showing his relationship to monkeys when he waved his arms while he was laying on his back. We did well not to laugh in her face and tell her that God created us and we ain't no kin to a monkey. Nehemiah hated laying on his back and we took care of that once we were home. I'm sure he was just as ready to get out of that jungle as we were.

After being discharged, we packed everything up and left the Postpartum Room. In the elevator, on our way down, we met another new mom who had the tiniest baby. We both commented about the difference in the size of our babies and had some laughs. We were so very happy when we finally made it home and could actually rest, be alone as a family and enjoy our sweet new addition, Nehemiah Job, our little consolation in the midst of sorrow.

Levi's Birth Story

Levi Azariah was born in October of 2015 at 1:45pm. He weighed 9 lbs 11 oz and was 21 inches long. He was (so far) my longest and hardest labor of about 14 hours.

Labor began Wednesday at 11pm. I had at least 3 crazy contractions within that hour, but I was so tired that I just went to the bathroom each time and then laid back down. 

Then at midnight I had another contraction and I was just going to stay in bed, but Isaiah insisted that I get up and walk because he believed that Levi was coming. I was doubtful, but I did get up and contractions became strong and steady. While I was working through them in a rocking chair in our Nursery, Isaiah called Dr. Abbott to get him on the way and then he called our friend Angie Stout. Things were still progressing pretty well. Meanwhile, Isaiah called his Mom to have her pick up Nehemiah and Valiant. Mom and Stephen came, woke the boys, who got up really well, and left with no problem. Shortly after they left, Dr. Abbott arrived and then Angie. Dr. Abbott checked me and I was at 5cm. After Dr. Abbot and Angie arrived, my contractions slowed down pretty dramatically. Dr. Abbott checked me two more times and both times I had not progressed. I remained at 5cm from 12 midnight until 5 am, so Dr. Abbott suggested that we go to the hospital because I was having Dysfunctional Labor and it was better to be safe than sorry. Isaiah was very disappointed, but in the moment, I really didn't mind. I think I was just happy that Levi would be born soon. (Looking back, I believe I just got stage fright when everyone started showing up and didn't feel safe enough to have Levi. I also believe that he was rushed out and just wasn't ready to come yet.) 

We traveled about an hour to the hospital and got there around 6 am. They induced me with 2 doses of Pitocin around 8 am. When I got this amount with Valiant, things moved right along, but not this time. This labor was very long and slow; my cm's took forever. I was taken up to a total of 12 doses of Pitocin in all. It was brutal. 

When I was at 7cm, Dr. Abbott broke my water. When I was told that I was at only 7cm, I was so very tired and sooo disappointed that I wasn't at 10cm yet. I looked up at the clock and it read 1pm. I then began begging the Lord for the labor to be over before 2pm. Dr. Abbott came to check me again and said I was 8cm. I told myself that I only had 2 more to go and begged God for the strength to keep going because I was so exhausted. 

Well, God answered my prayer rather quickly, because I never made it to 10cm. Shortly after being told I was 8cms, I felt a very strong urge to push. So I did and it took 3 pushes and Levi was out. I was so relieved!!! Those 3 pushes were so encouraging because my body was so done. I tore a very little bit and had to get stitched up, but it wasn't as bad as my two previous births. I was OVER-JOYED to have Levi in my arms! We stayed at the hospital until a bit after 7pm and got home around 9pm. Isaiah's Mom kept the boys another night; Nehemiah and Valiant met their new brother the next morning. They were both so thrilled to meet him. It was such a special moment when they held him for the very first time.