The Birth of Eliana Elizabeth Vander Vlucht

 

It was Saturday, September 5, 2026. A typical Saturday morning for our family; Justin, my husband, went for a run through the park, taking along our 4 children who ride their bikes and scooters to keep up with dad, while mom stays home to make a homemade pancake breakfast for everyone to come home to. While I was standing at the stove flipping pancakes, I noticed a peculiar feeling, and decided to call my mom, letting her know that I thought labor might be coming soon. After a few hours of observation, I called my midwife to ask her if it is possible for your water to break incrementally. She said that it can happen that way, and if that were the case for me, that labor should begin within the next 24 hours or so, and so I went on with my Saturday, trying to get as much rest as I could, in anticipation for labor to begin sometime soon. I spent the day napping, reading countless Hairy McClary books to my youngest daughter, reading chapters of Anne of Green Gables with my oldest daughter, taking advantage of extra snuggles with each of my children, and then having my parents over for dinner that evening.

 

Saturday night came and went with little progress. After many hours of inconsistent contractions, things seemed to become a bit more regular around 3am, so I woke my husband and called my mom, and we began to prepare a few things for birth, just in case. After spending about an hour filling the birth tub with air, and prepping other birth supplies, I noticed my contractions tapering off, and apologized to my mom about 100 times for wasting her time. She only lives a half mile away, and took up residence on the couch, insistent she was staying until a baby was born, as I somewhat discouragingly walked back to bed, attempting to get a few more hours of sleep.

 

On Sunday morning, my midwife checked in with me to see if I was making any progress, and when I mentioned that not much had happened all night, she suggested the Miles Circuit, and if that didn't get anything going, to then try pumping to try and stimulate contractions. So there I was, on a Sunday morning, stretching for an hour on my floor and bed, and then recruiting the whole family to join me for a half hour of curb walking around the blocks in our neighborhood. We came home from our walk and gathered in the living room to watch church online together as I sat on the birthing ball and kept moving. My contractions started picking up slightly, but nothing significant, so right after church ended, I decided to start pumping. After 2 rounds of 15 minutes of pumping with a 10 minute break in between, my contractions picked up to about 2-3 minutes apart and they were significantly more powerful than any contractions I had been having. I called my midwife and she thought it would be a good idea for her and the rest of the team to head our way. I agreed, and my husband began filling up the birth tub.

 

From about 11:30am until about 2:00pm my contractions continued, and I continued to pump a couple of more times to keep things moving along. By 2pm all of the birth team was present, and I was laboring peacefully and quietly in my bedroom accompanied by my husband. It was the sweetest laboring I could have ever imagined. I had my birth worship playlist playing in the background, the sun was streaming through the windows, I could hear the laughter of my littles playing outside, and every so often, a kiddo would pop into my bedroom to check on me. I like to sit on the birthing ball for much of my labor, so as I was breathing through my contractions, whatever child was in the room would come grab my hands and hold them until the contraction subsided. Those were such sweet moments, and I will cherish them forever. My husband and I laugh, because much of my labor time was spent having deep theology conversations with each other, or telling silly jokes. It was one extreme to another, but it was so us, and it was truly lovely.

 

At about 4:15pm, I could tell I was hitting transition, and I asked my husband to call in the midwife team. I started to get the chills and shakes, all a true sign that baby is near! My contractions were getting much more intense, and I decided, with help from the best midwife, that it was probably a good time to get in the birth pool. I had never had a water birth before, but have always desired to try for one. I got into the pool and continued to labor, with some of the edge taken off from the soothing aspects of the water. My oldest daughter, who is 7, decided that she wanted to be present for the birth this time around, and she made her way into the bedroom. As I was laboring in the pool, she was singing hymns and songs to me, and asking my midwife thousands of questions in between. It was the best!

 

Contractions were pretty intense, and as I uncomfortably took on each one, I tried my best to remember to take each contraction one at a time, to submit to it, and to remember that each contraction was bringing me closer to meeting my baby. My husband could tell I was getting weary, and he began to read the scripture cards that I had prepared for labor that were hanging on the wall. As he read, I tried my best to remember that the pain I was enduring was nothing compared to the joy that was soon to be felt. I tried my best to keep my eyes fixed on Christ on the cross, and to think about the sufferings that HE endured for ME.

 

Side Note: This whole pregnancy had not been an easy feat. In the first trimester, we learned that we lost Eliana's twin sister. The loss was hard enough, but before we even had time to grieve, I got so incredibly ill- in and out of the hospital 5 times within 2 months, and essentially on bed rest until week 17. During that time, I borrowed a book from my midwife called, *Made for This,* by Mary Haseltine, and it truly changed my entire perspective on pregnancy, labor and birth. It took the perspective off of myself, and really shifted my perspective to keeping Christ on the Cross as my focus. Through hardship in pregnancy, in moments when I felt like I couldn't go on, I practiced offering prayers- taking your moments of hardship as an opportunity to pray for others. When I puked for the 12th time that day, instead of wallowing in the pain of the trial, I would try my best to consider Christ on the Cross; to consider the sacrifice He has made for me, and to think of my discomforts as a way to participate, on a much smaller scale, in His sufferings. And through this experience, it has brought me to a deeper understanding of the deep love He has for His children, myself included. I tried to maintain this focus for the remainder of my pregnancy, and to take it with me into labor and birth.

 

By about 4:45 or so, I felt that I could no longer resist pushing. I was really trying to focus on my breath in this birth, and I was trying my best to not push until I truly couldn't resist it. In past births, I felt I sort of forced pushing, and this time, I really wanted my body to do it's thing. I asked my husband to grab my mom, since my dad was now at the house at this point, and he was able to spend time with the other children so my mom could be with me while I was pushing. As I laid over the side of the tub, clenching my mom's hands, my dear husband helped me through every single contraction and push by holding warm compress on me and applying counter pressure. I truly could never get through birth without him. He helps me with anything and everything and is the most incredible support. The pushing grew more intense, and I knew the noises must be getting more intense too, when I looked up and saw my 7-year-old plugging her ears as she laid on the floor watching through the side of the birth pool, just waiting for her new sister to be born.

 

After a couple of position changes, I landed in a squat/lunge with my right knee up, and it was just the movement I needed for those final couple of pushes. At one point, the point that every mama gets to in labor, I asked the question, "Am I almost done?!" and at that point, my midwife excitedly replied, "I see her head! Reach down and feel her head!" I reached down, felt my precious baby's head, and it was all the motivation I needed to get through those next couple of pushes so I could meet my baby. At 5:35pm, Eliana Elizabeth was born. When she came out, the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and her body, but by the grace, provision, and protection of the Lord, through the work of the hands of my incredible midwife, she was untangled quickly and laid right on my chest; color returning rapidly, and little cries starting to emerge from her tiny little lungs. I laid against the side of the birth pool, collapsing into my husband's arms, with my brand-new baby against my chest, and I wept, thanking the Lord for my precious, safe, healthy baby girl. I was amazed; I always am, at the gift and miracle of life!

 

As I held Eliana in my arms, tears just rolling down my face, I heard my daughter start speaking the Aaronic blessing over her brand-new baby sister. It was truly a moment that I will never forget, and it just melts my heart every time I think about it. My mom quickly went and got the other children, and my dad so they could all see their new sibling, and granddaughter for the first time. Everyone crowded into our bedroom with looks of awe and tear-stained faces. It was beautiful. I thank God for a safe labor and delivery, for a healthy and precious baby girl, for an incredibly supportive husband, a present and loving mother, a loving grandfather keeping watch over my other children, and a skilled, kind and compassionate midwife team. Eliana's birth did not come without pain or some toil, but it was beyond beautiful, and her entire pregnancy, labor and birth were worth the moments of refining and pruning that the Lord has done on my heart. What a sanctifying journey it has been. I am rejoicing, and so thankful for the gift of life!

 

"Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward." -Psalm 127:3