Budapest Birth

The day started much like other days had started for the last month. My parents had arrived in Budapest just a week before and we were all anxiously waiting for the same thing, for Summer to arrive! We sat around the breakfast table wondering if today was the day. I was in my 38th week, which was the longest of all my pregnancies.  We were sure she'd be coming soon.  We practiced the route to the hospital, practiced driving the car we borrowed and even practiced parking at the hospital.  Yes, Summer would be our 4th child but the whole routine seemed a bit 'first time parentish.' You know, wanting to get it right and be over prepared for something you can't prepare for or control :)  It's no wonder, we had moved to Budapest only 5 months prior to her birth.  We were still adjusting to our new surroundings, new language and new culture.  But it's Central Europe you might say and you'd be right.  It's not a third world country however it is different enough to notice you're not in America anymore.

So on the day went.  I was reviewing my birthing 'package' we had purchased, to make sure I knew what was included for the 10th time.  As I read it,  I realized that I was due for my 38 week ultrasound and being Dutch, I wanted to get what I paid for.  I called the office anxiously and was excited to hear they could get me in right away.  My doctor had been on vacation for the last week and he no replacement for me to see.  Since I was already contracting on and off and dilated I was ready for any excuse to be seen.

We arrived at the hospital an hour later only to find out that we were told the wrong place.  After much discussion over the confusing situation they said they would do the ultrasound anyway.  We were then informed by the sweet nurse who came to greet us that the ultrasound machine was broken so they would put me on the monitor for a bit to check for contractions.  I was disappointed to say the least.  After sitting on the monitor with not much action the nurse informs me I am not in labor, thank you very much, and says that the doctor has to read the papers before I can leave.

The doctor on call, aka. 'Man in the Hawaiian shirt' talking to the receptionist, glances at my report while we watch nearby.  We were waiting to hear the same report and he turns to us and says, "Where do you live?" I replied, " In the 2nd District."  To which he replied, "could you get here in 5-10 minutes if you had to? "  I actually didn't even answer his question.  I just asked why curiously?  He went on to express concern about seeing contractions and it being my 4th baby.  Apparently he thought she was going to fall right out of me.  He strongly suggested we stay.  After getting over the initial shock of thinking 'it's time', we convinced him to let us go home for a bit and get things together.

After arriving back home we shared the news, emailed friends and family to pray and made preparations.  I walked around with the hopes of continuing to dilate.  To be honest, I was starting to get scared.  This would be my first natural childbirth and my first birth overseas.  The combination of those two things alone was enough to freak me out.  I didn't know anything about birthing naturally.  I hadn't had classes or read a single complete article on how to do it.  I also didn't know the first thing about how to communicate my needs though an interpreter.  Thankfully we were advised by a new friends only weeks before to hire an English speaking midwife. It was time to call her.   Kata was her name.

Kata spoke mostly good English. Enough to where we could understand 90% of what she was saying at any given time.  The other 10% will remain a mystery.  She met us at the hospital and helped us get checked in.  She asked when my doctor would arrive and I shyly told her he was on vacation and didn't give me a replacement.  She half-smiled and said, "It's okay.  You have me. Don't worry."  I couldn't tell at the time if that was supposed to make me feel better or more nervous.

During my first few hours of labor we found out that Kata loves America.  Kata's America included, Elvis, Dallas, Austin, Country Music and Hamburgers.  We talked about how her boyfriend is a famous tattoo artist in Budapest and if we wanted one we'd have to get in line because he's booked out pretty far.  Kata was wonderful.  A reassuring presence staying with us at all times-except for the occasional smoke break. 

Things were beginning to progress and stop, progress and stop.  After prayer and super-stressful language barrier communications we decided to have my water broken just after midnight.  Kata had her own reasons for why I wasn't progressing having to do with my fears.  She was mostly right that I was scared.  Actually terrified would have been the word I would have used.  I knew that once my water was broken there would be increased pain.  In that moment, I just wanted to be in America delivering in a posh hospital, not one with broken windows and bugs in my room.  I wanted to be surrounded by the same doctors, midwives and nurses that delivered my other children, not here in this place of uncertainty.  As I searched my mind and surroundings frantically for security or just something to hang on to I came up empty.  Then almost instantly I thought of Jesus.  I started to pray and remind myself  that he cares about me and sees me right here in Budapest and that people have babies all the time.  The latter thought wasn't as comforting for some reason.  The pain was getting real.  Hold on to Jesus is all I could think of.

In all my other pregnancies this was just about epidural time.  I took a deep breath and we plunged forward.

My hospital

The birthing room was small, warm and dark with no bathroom.  There was a bed and one window facing out towards the neighboring apartment complex.  I requested a birthing ball brought into the room and thankfully they had one because that is where I stayed for the next three intense hours of crazy painful contractions.  I also asked if the air conditioner could be turned on.  It was the middle of the summer heat and like most places in Budapest, air is a luxury and not a given.  A little relief came.

Andrew, who had been my faithful encourager looked on somewhat helplessly the closer I got to delivery.  I started saying things like, "I don't want her to come,  make it stop, I'm done."  I then remembered -pain meds.  Ahhh, yes!  In between some really intense contractions I asked Kata for something to take the edge off.  She hurried off and returned shortly saying the dreaded words, "they are all out."  What?! How is a birthing place out of meds?  Andrew admitted later that he was glad they were out because I was so close.  I'm glad he didn't tell me that then.  I don't know disturbing words would have left my mouth that I would have to apologize for later.

Another 15 minutes and it was time.  I crawled onto the bed which didn't have handles (ladies you know how important handles on a bed are at a time like this) you hold your own legs here.  I will spare you the details except that, someone turned off the air conditioner mid-pushing and opened the window facing the apartment complex (who know who heard all the ruckus), a needle was jamming further into the bend of my arm (which was placed there earlier) and 3 pushes later and a lot of low moaning (thanks to my sister-in-law's advice) Summer Joy entered this beautiful world healthy and strong.  Deep breath.  It was over.  The waiting, the anxiousness, the fear, was over.  She was here with none of the previously feared complications of a c-section and cord issues.  She was here and I was still here (that part felt questionable at the end).  It goes down in the history of my life as a time where I experienced what it meant to get strength from the Lord getting me through a difficult situation. 

As I recount my birthing experience even now I have to laugh, just a little.

After birth in our recovery room.

All four!

Summer Joy (SJ)

Daddy in action

Kata with Summer