Continued from part 1.
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It was about 12:30am when we got to the operating room.

The OR was terrible-- it was everything I wouldn't consider ideal for a birth. Instead of dim lighting and candles, there were bright fluorescent spotlights dizzying me. Instead of warmth, it was freezing cold to the point that I had to focus even in-between contractions on staying relaxed (the L&D nurse who came with us tried her best to compensate with warm blankets, bless her heart). Instead of soothing sounds, there was the clanking of metal instruments and the chaotic bustle of the OR staff (no offense to them, but they make terrible L&D staff). Instead of comfortable seating, there was the narrow and hard operating table that I ended up having to remain on the whole time because every time I moved around, we lost the baby's heart rate (I had portable monitors, but even just laying on my side made it impossible to trace the baby).

I could tell Daniel was nervous, though he was trying his best to mask his concern. We both knew how much environment has played a part in either encouraging or stalling my labors in the past. This environment seemed to indicate doom.

But I wasn't concerned, somehow. I have never before in my life so tangibly felt the Holy Spirit coming alongside me to help me. It was awful in that room, but it was a beautiful thing just the same. I knew I couldn't rely on my doctor (I like the guy, but he's a paranoid doctor when it comes down to it), I knew I couldn't rely on the environment, I knew I couldn't rely on any sort of physical comforts; but I knew I could rely on the Lord. His peace is beyond comprehension-- and that meant that right then and right there I could experience peace that simply didn't make sense. This was a time for me to work with my body and trust Him for the rest. It was surreal and amazing, honestly.

The contractions kept increasing in strength and frequency. We found the best way to keep a strip going on the baby while keeping me off my back (which made the contractions super painful) was to have Daniel sit on the OR table behind me so I could lean against him in a fairly upright position. I tried my best to think of the contractions as waves that were washing from my head down to move the baby down, and that helped me never once "fall behind" a contraction.

At around 1:45am (before the clocks changed!), I suddenly felt a gush of fluid with a contraction. The doctor was right near me at that moment and I asked him, "Did you break my water?" He looked at me surprised and held up his hands, "No, Mrs. Paladin, I certainly did not!"

For the first time ever, my membranes ruptured spontaneously.

He checked me and I was 7cm and the baby was +2. I think we all knew that with the sac ruptured and the baby that low, things would pick up even more quickly.

I started feeling sick to my stomach. I had to be completely silent during contractions so that I could shut everything out except working with my body. There was a lot more pressure from the baby's head with each contraction. At one point I wasn't sure I could keep going, but then the nurse commented to the doctor that she had never seen someone be so quiet and peaceful during transition in all her 14 years of nursing, and that gave me the boost of confidence I needed that I was doing okay and that I could finish this thing.

At around 2:05am (old time-- it was now technically 1:05am), I heard the nurse quickly telling the doctor that she could sense me bearing down a bit with the contractions. Surprised, I realized for myself that she was right. I've never before had an urge to push during labor-- I've always had to have a midwife/doctor tell me to try bearing down with the next contraction before that pushing instinct would take over-- but here I was pushing without even realizing it. The doctor checked me and in 20 minutes I had gone from 7cm to pretty much fully dilated and the baby was +2. He didn't want me pushing quite yet because there was a slight lip on my cervix and he wanted me to let a couple contractions move the lip aside, though he did say once that was done, the baby was so low it wouldn't take long to deliver.

I laid on my side at that point, not caring about the strip on the baby and basically telling everyone in the room as much. I couldn't think of any other way to keep from pushing too soon.

I lasted 2 contractions like that without pushing, but then on the 3rd, I couldn't stop myself from pushing. The nurse told me to go with it (she was amazing, by the way, in the way she ran interference between the doctor's preferences and what I needed) and that she and Daniel would help me move back to a more upright position for pushing so that they could trace the baby during this critical time.

2 contractions worth of pushing later, the baby was completely delivered at 2:19am (old time) and there was a huge collective sigh of relief throughout the room. I sank back against Daniel and could only say, "We did it... we did it..." It took me a minute to even realize I still didn't know if I had a son or daughter!

Claire was taken almost immediately to the warmer because it was so cold in the OR. At first I was very upset because I wanted to be holding her, but-- not unusual for me-- there was some trouble getting the placenta delivered and I probably would have had to release her to the nurse even if we'd been in a regular L&D room so that I could focus on that. About 15 minutes after Claire arrived, the placenta was delivered, but it was jagged and torn in one corner (possibly what had caused the bleeding the night before that first brought me into the hospital) and so my doctor decided to do 2 full hand sweeps of my uterus to remove the rest, and also to check the incision from the c-section I had 2 years ago. That was excruciatingly painful and the first time the whole night that I yelled. Fortunately, it seems to have helped a lot because I have lost a lot less blood so far than I did after previous deliveries.

I did tear a little bit, but it was only worthy of one stitch and was old, brittle scar tissue from tearing with Gabriel that was the culprit. I barely feel it, honestly.

We were brought back down to L&D around 3am (old time). Claire had trouble maintaining her body temperature for the first 12 hours or so of her life, so I did lots of snuggling to help her out. She had the most peaceful beginning hours of all my babies so far.

Daniel wasn't able to spend the night because the floor was packed and I was sharing a room with someone else (whose husband also had to go home because of me). That normally would have been horribly disappointing, but I think we were all on such an emotional high after the birth that it didn't phase either of us.

All in all, I look back on this birth as what should have been the worst, but was the best. There was so much that wasn't ideal: a hyper and paranoid doctor, a bright and obnoxious OR environment, laboring pretty much the whole time in the hospital, Daniel not being able to spend those first hours with Claire and me, etc. And yet it was the least intervened-with, fastest, and most peaceful birth just the same: 3-4 hours total of active labor, spontaneous rupture of the membranes, a self-initiated pushing stage, least amount of blood loss, etc.

It's beautiful to me, really. I see the hand of God all over it. I had pored over books this pregnancy that talk about the "ideal" ways to deliver, but in the end days of the pregnancy, I really had to come to terms with the fact that no environment can compare with trusting the Lord-- and I found that to be amazingly true. If I knew then some of the things I know now, there's a lot I would have changed; but the bottom line is that He knew what I would face and He walked with me through it all, which is better than perfect circumstances any day.

Now we are home and absolutely loving this time with Claire. I feel so good, I honestly can't even believe it. I barely feel like life skipped a beat, and yet we now have this amazing addition of a sweet and precious little girl! She is nursing well (and so is Aubrey, for those who are curious!) and sleeps great at night so far. The kids all adore her and-- sure enough-- I wonder how we were a family before her; she fits.

God is so good and I am in awe of the testimony of Claire's arrival. It is better than I ever dared ask for, and yet so consistent with the gracious nature of our Father, I wonder why I ever expected less.