"When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, I was senseless and ignorant. I was a brute beast before you.

Yet I am always with you, you hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

{Psalm 73:21-28}

The night before last my contractions were 2-4 minutes apart and required focus and breath. After about 2 hours they were back to 10 minutes apart and much more tolerable.

I woke up yesterday morning and immediately called my midwife, at the very end of my rope. I told her I wanted to be checked to see if I had dilated and she suggested considering checking into the birth center (to have a more private space to labor). I spent the morning crying, processing and praying. It took about 10 minutes after that phone call to realize that the thing standing in my way wasn't the people around me, it wasn't the pressure to HAVE THIS BABY (although, trust me, that was there).

The unconquerable wall was deeper; rooted in Judah's birth almost 3 years ago. That experience changed who I am. Everything surrounding me at that point in my life was heavy and painful. His birth was invasive, abusive and transforming.

From the moment I realized I was pregnant with Daisy I KNEW that I couldn't hold her in. I spent a good portion of my first trimester certain I was going to miscarry (or had already). Spiritually I plummeted into complete darkness. I have never, in my entire life, known such misery, such sorrow, such abandonment. My morning sickness was deeper than a physical affliction - it was a deeply emotional and spiritual disease. God was silent and I was confused and angry. I felt repulsed by the Bible, by the very mention of Jesus or anything remotely relating to him. I cowered in a hole and waited for something to change.

Since entering my second trimester I have slowly crawled out of the darkness. Inch by agonizing inch I've regained my footing. I have felt weak, like I was recovering from a life threatening illness.

And yesterday, everything fell into place. All of the sorrow of the past 3 years; all of the darkness of the past 9 months; all of the questioning and aching. It simply snapped into place. It made sense.

God wasn't silent. I was screaming. I had come to the very center of an isolating and revealing desert. My affliction - my loneliness and trauma - had become impossible to ignore. And I have been TERRIFIED of attempting the impossible again.

I've been in labor for 9 days now. It seems impossible, right? It's not. Along the way my contractions have slowly changed. There are times when I feel just about to cross from early labor contractions into birthing contractions and I just don't. I'm not ready. I spent my entire first trimester certain I couldn't hold my baby in and now I'm just not ready to let her out. I've been scared - so scared that I just can't do it. I couldn't do it with Judah - the pitocin did it. I've lost faith in my body's ability to birth a baby.

But after crying all morning, talking to my midwife for awhile, getting checked (2-3cm) and spending the rest of the day just trying to rest I've somehow found a sweet space of surrender. I've given up being angry with God. I can finally see that he would have had to deny himself to have ever abandoned me. From the very moment of entering sorrow 3 years ago he has not once moved away from me. He has held me by the right hand. I was so grieved, so embittered that I became senseless. I lost all sense of direction, of hope.

I don't know how surrender happens. I don't know what has to shift in someone to relinquish such deeply rooted sorrow and fear, but I can say that, by grace, I'm just floating. I've somehow stopped fighting, stopped raging. My fear has faded. I still have no idea how the hell I am going to give birth. I am still stopping every 10 minutes to breathe through a contraction. I'm still weak and battered from my own prison.

But, at some point, Daisy will decide she's ready. She'll do her thing. My heart's desire is that I will keep floating, keep surrendering. My body has been created to birth her. If my mind will stay out of the way then my girl will come all on her own.