I don't think I ever wrote about the experience. It's one I treasure. A year ago, I lay on a table and literally split open for this beautiful child. I did it willingly, excitedly, and without regret.
I was terrified because of my last experience. With Bear, I had a c-section, but it was an emergency. I was literally quaking on the table, so much so they had to have my mom and a nurse hold me down. On top of that, I was terrified. And on top of that, I could feel them cutting into me because they didn't let the drugs sink in well enough. They had to put me all the way out with a general anesthetic in order to make me comfortable and to get me to stop screaming. I don't remember any of the time at all. I am so glad I have pictures of meeting my boy... Because I don't remember anything until the next morning.
God redeemed it all with Elizabeth by redeeming every last detail: everything was the same, and yet, the second time everything was different.
This was planned. Stephen was there, and we went into the hospital early. We had the sweetest team of nurses that morning. One woman's name was Nan, and she explained every single thing she was doing and why she was doing it that way. She poked needles in me about ten times, but even so I didn't mind. My doctor came in and chatted with us while we waited for the anesthesiologist to give another lady her epidural, and then we went to the OR, where they were playing classic rock and, basically, having a party. Nobody rushed anything. Nobody rushed me. When they began the surgery, I couldn't feel anything. All I knew was, that at 9:06 I heard my beautiful baby squeal. The little ball of thunder was here... And I remembered it. Stephen brought her over to me and I couldn't hold her but I saw her... I saw her and I sobbed and I was so happy. They were closing me up while she and Stephen went to the nursery, and I clocked those 54 minutes from when she was out to when I held her in my room.
God used this entire experience to redeem us. We were in the exact same hospital room as I was when I had Bear. Stephen and I were together this time, not separated by stupidity. Boo was born at the same time, weighed the same, measured the same, and even looked the same as her brother. She ate better, she slept just as well, and she looked adorable, all burritoed up the way you roll a baby into a receiving blanket. We stayed for three days at the hospital, just having our family visit. We had lots of down time with our girl. Seeing Stephen as a dad from the very beginning was such a joy. It was a gift for him, and for me. This was the first baby he ever really got to be part of. He wouldn't say it, but he's been so hurt by both of those experiences. This time... Well, let's just say it makes a memory, heh?
Oh, Boo... Someday you'll read this and understand how precious you are. On this, your first birthday, I remember laying down and splitting apart for you and I'm reminded that Christ was torn apart, violently, for us, to cover our sins with his blamelessness... without any pain numbing drugs or sweet time afterward. Never forget, baby girl, that you are loved that much by the creator of the universe. So am I... And so is anyone reading this post.
Happy birthday, my beautiful little love. You are treasured. You are absolutely loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment