Changing my Definition of Health

"Beloved, I pray that in all respects you may prosper and be in good health, just as your soul prospers." -3 John 1:2

There is a belief out there that is commonly referred to as the Prosperity Gospel that believes that God's will for all of us is to be wealthy and never get sick. It goes further to assume that if one is suffering either physically or financially, then they must not have enough faith, or they are not praying enough, or something is wrong with them spiritually. They use the verse above to "prove" their theory. Then there is the evangelical church (which I grew up in and am still part of) that goes the complete opposite direction and says that health and wealth have nothing to do with God or the state of our spirituality. Being in "good health" is nice to wish for, but not focused on at all as a responsibility we have to God.

In our western culture, the term "health" is basically synonymous with being thin. Whenever someone speaks of someone who is "unhealthy" aren't they usually implying that the person is overweight? When we see commercials on television for "healthy" food, doesn't it usually come with guarantees of low calories, low fat, low cholesterol, etc.? But what is health, really? According to dictionary.com, health is defined as "the general condition of the body or mind with reference to soundness and vigor; freedom from disease or ailment". Funny how it doesn't say anything about how thin or fat someone is, but focuses on lack of disease and soundness and vigor of the body.

As Christians, do we fall into the same trap the world does thinking of health in terms of "fat" and "skinny"? Do we make New Year's resolutions with the rest of the world to lose a few pounds? If so, why? Are we under the misguided impression that if we lose weight, we will therefore be healthy?

Ok, so why am I asking all of these questions? Surely its not a sin to lose weight, so who cares if someone thinks they are healthy because they lost a few pounds? I am writing all of this because I have been learning more and more about what a healthy body looks like and I believe God wants us to be good stewards of the shell he has given us to reside in while we are here on earth.

I used to think that illnesses like cancer, as horrible as it is, "just happens" to some people. Now I realize that cancer grows in the body when it is exposed to certain substances, chemicals or toxins. It seems so straight-forward when we think of Lung Cancer. Its no secret that breathing Nicotine can cause lung cancer, but when it comes to other types of cancer, the answers don't come as easily. However, I think its a little more black and white than what popular culture has lead us to believe. Now, I want to stop a minute and clear one thing up. In no way am I suggesting that it is anyone's fault that they get cancer. Whereas the dangers of smoking are widely known, few people commonly know the dangers of preservatives, food additives and other dangerous substances found in our food. Many people have unhealthy habits and they have no idea the type of harm they are causing in their bodies. Also, unlike the "Health & Wealth" prosperity folks, I am not saying that someone is less spiritual in any way because of an illness they have contracted. In fact, those are the times that draw many to the Lord and increase their faith. "It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick." -Mark 2:17. God is our ultimate physician and it is natural to cling to Him when we are suffering.

I used to be an "everything in moderation" kind of person. No harm in eating fast food, as long as you don't eat it every day. Junk food is fine to enjoy from time to time as long as one is not eating it all the time. I was always the person who could eat horribly and not gain much weight from it. People would say how "lucky" I was. However, now that I'm realizing that every time I eat junk food I am incurring harm to my body, I don't feel lucky anymore.

For what its worth, I am not standing high on any "eating healthy" pedistal looking down on the "lowly" people who eat the standard junk that is the typical American diet. I have posted previously that I am a recovering sugar-a-holic. In fact, I gave into temptation today and went through the drive-thru at Burger King. I won't say that eating fast food is a sin, but just that God has shown me that its not something he wants for me and probably by extention its not what he wants for ANY of his children. If this makes you uncomfortable, I would challenge you to pray about it, start doing your research about the benefits of healthy eating and think about what you want the quality of your life to be. I think there is a lot of truth to the notion that how you eat may not add years to your life (although it may if you avoid certain illnesses that might take you earlier than you would otherwise go) but it will increase the quality of those final years. I think of my grandmother who believed very strongly in herbal remedies. I wrote her off for a long time as "crazy Grandma" with all her garlic pills and acidophilus! She definitely had some health issues going on (including a heart problem) but do you know how she died? She passed on quietly and peacefully sitting at the kitchen table with family. They didn't even know she had passed....I think some thought she had fallen asleep! If I could choose how to go, that'd be it! Who's to say if her peaceful passing was a result of her lifestyle or if God was just merciful to her, but I like to think there's a connection with how she lived her life.

The bottom line is that for me to tackle this new healthy lifestyle, its going to take me depending fully on God for the strength to pass on my cravings, saying "no" to the bad and "yes" to the good. Here's a short little video that gives you a starting place to start thinking about how the food we eat can restore us and keep us in good health.

Watching Your Due Date Come and Go

Preparing for Cade's birth, with two births (including my very powerful VBAC) under my belt, I felt like I knew everything I needed to know to have him. I was convinced he would come a week early. I went into labor with Gavin 3 days before my due date. Alayna came 5 days before hers. So, naturally I assumed that each baby would come earlier and earlier and Cade was bound to be a good 7 days early......I was WRONG!!!

I remember scheduling a "40 week" appointment with my midwife and we both joked that it would most likely not be necessary....we were both convinced I'd have Cade before that date. Knowing everything I knew that babies come when they are supposed to and as against elective inductions as I was (am), I must admit it was disappointing to not be in labor and a temptation to "take matters into my own hands". There were definitely things going on externally that made me feel pressured to have this baby SOON! My mom was in town and although I knew she'd be there for several weeks, it definitely felt like everyone was waiting around for this baby to come.

In some ways, I felt responsible that he wasn't here yet! I know that sounds silly, looking in hindsight, but I did have those feelings at the time. My dad flew in on my due date! Again, we had convinced ourselves that he'd come early and my dad would come for a week to see us. That's probably the biggest pressure I had. I *so* wanted my dad to meet his newest grandson. It would have killed me for him to come and go and not see Cade. Because of this, I did agree to have my membranes stripped (but not broken!) at that 40 week appointment....something that I didn't think I wanted to do originally. It didn't really do anything for us right away, but Cade came in his own timing, 5 days past when he was predicted.

That brings me to why I'm posting this today. "The Unnecesarean" has a new guest post about being Postdates and does a great job talking about what that really means. I think when we're in the situation, tired of being pregnant, family is waiting for baby and we're really, really, *really* ready to get this show on the road, I think its a great idea to get our head back in reality and know that our babies really do know the best time to come....its not always when we think it should or will be. I was so grateful to my midwife for her encouragement, assuring me that I was healthy, Cade was healthy....we just needed to wait and not hurry him earlier than when he's ready. I'm reminded that not all women have someone in their life who will encourage them this way. In fact, many women have the exact opposite....a provider who is feeling rushed, wants to induce or schedule surgery, plants seeds of fear that something might be wrong with her baby and pushes for decisions to speed things up. During these times, the best thing we can do is pray for peace. Non-stress tests for the baby are great at easing our worry that something is wrong.

A friend just had a beautiful baby girl at home at almost 42 weeks. Baby was posterior, but she had a fast labor (an hour and a half!) and she jokes that the experience was "almost orgasmic"! That makes me smile! In the mainstream obstetric world, she would have been put through the system, probably induced, who knows what else. Her head would have most definitely been filled with seeds of doubt that her baby would be healthy, that she'd start labor all on her own. But as it was, with a knowledgable and caring midwife to care for her at home, she kept a positive attitude the whole time and it certainly paid off in the end!

"Christ Centered Childbirth" by Kelly Townsend

For anyone who is pregnant or might become pregnant in the future, I would like to recommend the book "Christ Centered Childbirth" by Kelly Townsend. I read this when I was pregnant with Alayna and found it not only informative, but it transformed my apprehensiveness into peace. It brought the focus back to God where it belongs. It helped me not "worry" so much and trust that God will take care of me and my baby. I saw this review of the book and thought it was so well said, I'd include it here. The author makes a reference to Romans 12:2, so I looked it up. The verse is familiar to me, but I'd never thought about it with birth in mind and I'd like to share it with you.

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:2

What is the current "pattern of this world" in the birthing world? Go to an OB, do whatever they tell you to do, conform to their standards and protocols regardless of whether or not what they are advising is (a) true and (b) in the best interest of you and your baby. I would encourage all women to not be afraid to challenge their doctor....ask questions like "why are you advising me to be induced?" and "Am I healthy? Is my baby healthy? What is the reason for this intervention?" Also, pray for discernment that you will know when there really is a medical need and when your doctor is not thinking in your best interest.....c-section because the baby is "taking too long" or might be "too big", induction because you're two seconds passed your due date or the doctor isn't going to be on call this weekend. You can always ask "is this the only option....what are my alternatives and what are the risks/benefits to those alternatives?" Someone I know would always ask herself "what is the next best thing?" if what she wanted turned out not to be a possibility.

I honestly do believe that my mind has been renewed by everything I've learned about birth in the last 3 or so years. God wants us to draw close to Him and I think for many women (me included) he uses childbirth to reinitiate that relationship.

Depending on Christ through Childbirth....aka....You gave birth with no drugs??? Are You Crazy???

So, the short answer is "Yes, I gave birth without pain relieving drugs (twice actually) and no I am not crazy." I actually have three beautiful children and in order to explain why I will have to tell you a story that will probably end up being very long but hopefully you'll begin to see how this really has been a journey for me. Just as a disclaimer, I get very detailed about my births in this post, including my cesarean and the complications that followed. If you are pregnant or at a place where reading scary birth stories might not be a good idea, you may not want to read further.

I was 24 years old when I became pregnant for the first time. I had been married about a year and it just seemed like the right time to start a family. During that first pregnancy, I did everything right....ate the right foods, avoided all the things I was told to avoid. I had a very uncomplicated pregnancy (except for all the "normal" stuff like horrible nausea, fatigue and pretty bad swelling in my feet toward the end). We knew we were having a boy and had decided on the name Gavin Dean. Gavin was simply a name we liked and Dean is my father's middle name. We attended a local childbirth education class and got your run-of-the-mill typical hospital class. We made a birth plan, but since I really didn't know what I wanted, it was pretty standard to the hospital's policies. I was open to getting an epidural....I guess I assumed I'd need one since I have such a low pain tolerance. However, I don't know why, maybe I wanted to see what my body was capable of, but I didn't want to get it right away. I wanted to wait as long as I could....heck! Maybe I wouldn't even need one at all!

On July 12, 2002 my husband and I went out to dinner to celebrate after having a very successful day at work. We went to a steakhouse and I ate *so much* that night, possibly forgetting that I was 9 months pregnant.....4 days short of my due date. Later that evening I felt so sick and wondered why I ate so much. Chad had early morning plans to go waterskiing with my dad the next day (which was a Saturday) and I didn't want to disturb him, so I layed on the couch and was back and forth to the bathroom for several hours. It never crossed my mind that I might go into labor that night. I had just had an appt. with my OB that morning and I remembered her saying, "you aren't dilated at all. I can't make any predictions, but I think I can safely say you won't go into labor today. After that, I can't make any promises." Plus, this was my first baby and I had heard over and over again that first time moms *always* go passed their due date. The more time that passed, the worse I felt. It got so bad that I started to think I shouldn't wait until morning. Even though it was close to 2:00 a.m., I started thinking maybe I should call the on-call doctor. I woke Chad up and told him I wasn't feeling well and maybe we should call the doctor. There was a long pause (he later admitted that he was trying to think of a way to lovingly assure me that I was fine and to just come to bed). Then it happened! GUUUUSSSSHHHHHHH! Wet everywhere! I said, "Ummmm, either I just peed myself or my water just broke." That got him out of bed!

We raced around throwing things together. I called the on-call doctor (the same OB I had seen that morning). She was surprised to hear from me, but said I should probably go to the hospital and get checked out. Contractions started right away and they were pretty intense. In the car, we started timing them. It was hard for me to know when they were starting, so we timed them from the peak of one to the peak of the next. 3 minutes apart. Next one was 4 minutes apart. Next one was 2 minutes apart. Chad said, "You must not be doing this right....they are not supposed to be that close together this early." I practically yelled, "how am I supposed to know if I'm doing this right? I've never done this before!!" Looking back, it seems kind of funny, but it was incredibly intense at the time.

When we arrived at the hospital, there was a flurry of activity as the residents checked me out and my doctor was soon called. They kept telling me not to worry about them...just concentrate on my labor. I *was* concentrating on my labor, but of course as soon as they told me not to worry, I started worrying! They also offered me an epidural, but I declined at that point. The contractions were intense, no doubt! But they didn't seem overwhelming.....I felt like I could manage the pain. When my doctor came and saw that I was barely dilated to one cm and I was contracting like I was in active labor, she was concerned. She said, "there are two things that are concerning me. The first is that with each of your contractions, your baby's heartrate is going way below normal. The other is that you are contracting very actively, yet you are only dilated to one cm. We don't know how quickly you will dilate, but it probably will take many more hours and we don't know how much of this your baby can handle. We can wait a little while if you want, but we may need to talk about a cesarean section.

My. Heart. Stopped. Cesarean? I'm going to have a cesarean? The idea of having surgery was not even on my radar that night. All of a sudden, I thought of my mom. See, I was born by cesarean section.....my mother's first baby.....surgically removed from her womb. Fetal distress. Just like my baby boy. That's when I started to cry. My mom came into the room (she had been in the hallway calling my dad) and heard the news that I was being prepped for surgery. To be completely honest, I had mixed feelings about going in for the c-section. I had definitely not planned on going under the knife that night, but another part of me was excited that I was going to meet my baby much sooner than expected and relief that the incredible pain would be over within minutes.

Once the spinal took effect, they wheeled me into the OR. I remember having some creepy thoughts about it looking like one of those rooms where they take convicts on death row.....death by lethal injection. It also kind of reminded me of Jesus dying on the cross. (The table actually does look a bit like a cross, with your arms out to the sides, strapped down.) Kind of strange in a creepy sort of way that my only two thoughts were about death when I was about to bring new life into this world. The surgery itself was a bit surreal. Its hard to wrap your mind around what they are actually doing......and knowing you're awake the whole time! The one horrible side effect I remember was my entire body shaking. My teeth were chattering and I probably couldn't have kept my arms on the table if they hadn't been strapped down. My anesthesiologist was a grandfatherly sort of man. He sat by my head during the entire surgery and said, "I can give you something for the shaking if you want, but you need to know that it will probably make you very sleepy." I was so afraid of falling asleep. This was my big moment.....my baby was being born and I was NOT going to fall asleep! "No, I'll be ok," I said. However, after just a few more minutes of shaking, my arms started cramping and I knew I needed to take something. "Ok, give it to me....I can't take this anymore!" I still remember to this day the feeling of relief and rest as my muscles relaxed and the shaking stopped. I felt good......really, really good....and really tired. Maybe I could just close my eyes for a couple of minutes....NO! STAY AWAKE!!! Do not miss this! I remember them bringing Gavin to me and saying "here's your baby....congratulations mom" and I was like "oh, wow, thanks" and then conk! Out like a light! I awoke in recovery and at some point my doctor came to talk to me. I was told it was a good thing they did the c-section. My placenta had prematurely separated from my uterus (a rare condition called Placenta Abruption) cutting off the oxygen supply to my baby....this explained the heart rate drop.

Although Gavin seemed ok, they wanted to admit him to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) for observation. It took about 30 hours until he was released. I believe I saw him twice during that time. This part of the story is hard for me because I believe mistakes were made and no one was communicating with me what was going on. They knew I was planning to breastfeed. It was written in my birth plan and they either ignored it or lost it during the change in plans to a surgical birth. They gave him formula in the NICU....even though I had pumped milk for him. Oh I was so mad!

Gavin and I had a horrible time with breastfeeding. I didn't realize it at the time, but I now know that we weren't bonding the way a mother normally bonds with her newborn and I was heading for post-partum depression. Friends and well-wishers would say things like "what a beautiful baby....don't you just love being a mom?" and on the outside I'd smile and say "sure, its wonderful" but inside I had no idea what they were talking about. I felt horrible!

Exactly one week from the day Gavin was born, we were having a particularly rough night and Gavin refused to latch on to nurse. I got so upset that I walked into the bedroom, laid Gavin on my bed and angerly hoisted myself up onto the bed....rrrrriiiip!!! What was that? I looked down at my incision and thought, "no, no way, that is not what I think it is." I carefully took my pants off and saw a small trickle of blood coming from my incision. Oh Lord, what did I just do? I called my doctor (a different on call dr. than the one who performed my cesarean) and described what happened. She didn't seem very concerned. "It can be normal to have a small amount of blood." We got off the phone, but about 5 minutes later I called her back. I just didn't believe this was normal. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you can go to the ER and get checked out." It was late at night by the time we arrived at the ER. We waited for my mom to come over to watch the baby and it was nearly 11 pm by the time we arrived at the hospital. I had put a maxi pad horizontally across my incision to catch the blood as we transported to the hospital and when the ER technician took it off, blood burbled from the wound.....at that moment, I thought I might die. I imagined Chad as a single dad struggling to bring up this little boy on his own. I pleaded with God not to take me yet. I didn't want to leave my new little family with no mother. Thankfully, they got the bleeding under control. They gave me morphine and that's the last I remember. When I awoke, I was informed that they would be taking me to a room. I hadn't even processed it in my head that I was being readmitted to the hospital. Chad looked awful! Like he'd been up all night....then I saw a wall clock.....4 am......he HAD been up all night! I told him to go home and get some sleep. I'm sure my mom was worried sick and I was also worried about Gavin not having anything to eat. I knew we had some formula at home....it was the free stuff they give you in that diaper bag "gift" at the hospital. As much as I hated the thought of him having the formula, I couldn't think of any better option at this point until I was well enough to pump some milk for him.

I think I'll stop this part of the story here for now. It really could go on for pages, but you get the picture of how horrible this experience was for me. I stayed in the hospital for 2 days and was released to go home. I had home health nurses coming to my apartment to change my bandages twice a day. Oh, I guess I do need to explain one more thing. See, when they put me out with the morphine, they reopened my incision to clean it all out. They did not reclose it due to a risk of infection. I really didn't completely get this until that first dressing change in the hospital, but my incision was not closed. It was packed with gause and bandaged. It was the worst pain I had ever had.....way worse than the contractions during labor.....and it was a very different pain. Not like a muscle pain like contractions, this was like a stabbing horrific pain. I was told that the incision would heal naturally over time. After 3 months, it still wasn't completely healed. I saw a plastic surgeon and had my third surgery in that short 3 month period. It was called a "scar revision" surgery, but my doctor tried to make me feel better by telling me I was getting a free tummy tuck!

Ok, this post has gotten so long that I need to stop for now. In my next post I'll talk about my next pregnancy, my decision to VBAC and all the obstacles along the way.