Notes from the Delivery Room: Pain Is Not the Enemy

Today, I start a series of (one-handed) posts. 

Yesterday marked one week since Liam was born.  As I glanced at the clock throughout the day, it was hard not to draw the parallels: Last week at this time, I was at this point, etc.  It offered me a chance to step back and think through the process a bit.  While I feel a bit funny posting a full birth story, this series is born from the process.  These posts are essentially thoughts on how we deal with pain and difficulty from the lens of labour. Having just walked through it, my perspective may differ from most.  Forgive me if I am too much in my little newborn world and the connections are trite or contrived. 

In my first two labours, both long and drawn out, it was easy to see pain as the enemy.  As things progressed and intensified, my response to the beginning of a contraction became, “Oh no, here’s another one.”  I began to dread them.

The more time passed, the more I wanted the pain to end.  It was wearing me down with its relentlessness.

I wanted the baby here and I wanted the pain to stop.  Obviously the pain needed to continue for the baby to arrive but I wanted to separate the two.  Baby, yes.  Pain, no.

Many good things in our lives are born of pain.  Yet, we despise the pain.  We dread and reject it.  We tense against it, medicate ourselves in a million ways to numb its sting.

This time, I thought it through carefully before.  Pain is not the enemy.  Pain is precisely the vehicle that gets me to where I want to be.  This time, I needed to welcome pain as an integral part of the process.  I needed to cooperate and let the pain accomplish its work.

Curtis was such an encourager.  Having done this twice before, we both knew what I needed to hear.  One step closer.  That one is done.  Instead of viewing it as an obstacle we renamed each contraction progress, another step on the journey.  I didn’t reach a breaking point where I thought that I couldn’t do it without medication.  My mind was made up.  I wanted to be present.  I wanted to be clear-minded.  I wanted to feel the process.  I only needed to do it one contraction at a time.

This is easier with labour than with life.  Labour is finite pain.  Labour will end even though there are moments when it feels like it never will.  The trouble with the rest of life is that there are no guarantees.  There are no promises of emergency C-sections if things get too stuck or stalled or scary.

So pain becomes the obstacle, keeping us from a comfortable life.  Hurt discourages us because it stands in the way of what we desire.  We see pain as an interruption.  Its agony wears us down.  So we stop counting steps.  We stop marking progress.  Neither are easy to measure.  We find something that numbs us, distracts us.  The pain around us keeps on going but we don’t feel it so much.  But what if God is working in our pain? What if He can use it, redeem it, rework it so that it isn’t wasted?  Would that change anything?

I am not saying we should like pain or even desire it, but when it comes, and it will come, what would happen if we welcomed it as a step on our journey?  What if we worked with the difficulties instead of bracing against them so they form us and shape us?  Just maybe, they’ll birth something new.

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