friday morning. daddy stayed home today, and fixed pancakes for us on the back deck. we called the doctor’s office, to inform them of our decision. as we awaited a return phone call with instructions of when to go to the hospital, we touched base with mimi. she was on the road from st.louis and making great time.
very little was mentioned to your sisters regarding our impending hospital stay…mainly “you’ll be with emme, mimi or daddy the whole time. when mama’s in the hospital, she’ll be in great hands of the medical team. yes, you can visit, and we’d love to see you.”
isn’t it funny…six days later in trying to pen this…the details of the day run together in my mind. since it was friday, daddy had planned on getting help from our next-door-neighbor, gary, with some yard work. that was to be around 2:30 pm. gary’s wife, judy, stopped by to make sure plans were still on. when i met her at the door, she simply asked “is everything ok? no, no…it’s not…i can tell from the look on your face. what is it, hon?” as i welcomed her in and pretty much fell into her arms, she listened with an open heart. judy gently shared wisdom, insight and comfort.
when she left, i remember sorting through some paperwork on essential oils. it wasn’t packing my bag, it wasn’t playing with my girls or conversing with my beloved. but it was a mindless task that i could absorb myself in while daddy and the girls slept. at that point, i’m fairly certain we had talked with shannon, dr. c’s nurse, and knew we were to come in at 5:30 pm.
kinzie came over with some oils that we didn’t have, and came more prepared then i had anticipated. turns out, in addition to being a pediatric nurse, she’s a bereavement counselor too! we discussed taking photos with our daughter, and she gave us ideas of items to include, reminders to try and get footprints and handprints, helped me write a couple of to-do and to-bring lists, made up capsules of oils, and worked side-by-side with anaya…making a card for her sister sarah! she also shared a deep part of her heart as she told us that her sister experienced two miscarriages. she’s an awesome gal, that miss kinzie.
kim…sweet, sweet Kim…brought a delicious meal of meatloaf, sweet potatoes, green beans, and her famous chocolate chip cookies. she’s one of our family’s closest friends…a devoted wife, doting mama, talented cook and amazing baker. heart as wide as can be. the night before, she surprised us with 6 roses left at our front door with a beautiful card…”one rose for each of your earthly and heavenly babies. because we love you all!”
somewhere in that span of the day, i packed bags. and the camera bag. and the camcorder bag. and the bible study book. and the toiletry bag. and the diffuser, essential oils, carrier oils (one liquid, one solid). and three crosses. and a family picture. and drawings from the girls. and my bubba mug full of ice water. poor ryan…he simply looked at me, inquiring “you’re taking all of this?” he’s such a sweet, strong husband, and oh, how i love the man to the moon and back.
the drive there: typically, when i want to pray with ryan, i’ll ask “can we pray please?” then we’ll join a hand or two, bow our heads and speak our fears, hopes and hearts with our King of Heaven. that friday, the Holy Spirit gifted me with boldness…i made the sign of the cross and began to pray out loud. most of the prayer i honestly don’t remember. the one part that DID stick with me went something like this:
“and may angels go before us, surround us in the present, and carry us through the future.”
all too soon, we were at the hospital and headed towards the front entrance. because we brought everything except the kitchen sink, daddy and i cracked up trying to get through the rotating door “PLEASE, step forward” said the annoying robotic lady-voice…as the door was stopped. um, yeah, okay. that’s not possible? the good Lord knew we needed a dose of humor. when we got through the door and up on the elevator to the second floor, the nurse at the front desk said “what’s your name again? we don’t seem to have you on the list.” she really shouldn’t have erred in that moment, because that was just the out i needed: all-righty then…we’re not on your list? we’ll head back to home, crawl under the covers, and pretend this is all a bad dream. peace out!
as soon as that thought crossed my mind, she apologized “oh! yes, here you are. sorry about that!” my, my, my. paperwork before me, i asked the nurse again what to fill out and where to sign. the name, birthdate, weight, physician, emergency contact…those were the easy questions i flew through. “i’m sorry, i haven’t a clue what my LMP is right now” i said to her. she told me not to worry and fill out the rest of the form. the gates opened as i glanced at the left side of the sheet. there before me was a long list of reasons why we stood there tonight…filling out this now God-awful piece of paper. and i cried. oh how i balled like a baby.
out of my periphery, a woman dressed in pink excused herself around ryan, who stood to my left. she grabbed the tissue box, came around between us, put her right hand upon my left shoulder and offered me a tissue. through my tears as i turned, i recognized the woman to be stephanie, a nurse that did fetal heart monitoring for our firstborn, then came up the day after she was born to meet her. she remembered as we did. we hugged, and she told the other nurse, i’d like to take these folks to their room. ANGEL #1
walking down the long hall and making small talk to avoid the heavy topic of discussion, we made it to our room. 2053. it was down at the very end of the hall, nice and private. quiet with a double-door entry and several large windows letting in the sun. my eyes nervously glanced about the room before landing on a white box with pink ribbon. “babe” i said…”please move this. i cannot bear the thought of what’s inside right now.” then i saw a folder which i promptly held out to my knight in shining armor…”this, too…please move it out of sight where i don’t have to read it…much less process the words inside.”
it was about that time that another nurse joined us. “valerie!” i exclaimed. “we know you!” she had been the l&d nurse when tirzah was born. friend of my sister-in-law, marjie, and running partner of a great friend from church, kim. never had she worked three days in a row, she told us on that july day when she was walking us out to the car with our healthy, pink little bundle of bliss. she had been with us from check-in to discharge with t’s delivery…and we knew it to be a God-thing. ANGEL #2
the next nurse who rounded the corner? “gina! you were with us and genuinely listened when i was laboring with catori!” i had told her that medicine (including epidural) was something i wasn’t interested until right before delivery. she got me into the tub and helped me remember how to breathe, taking turns with my own mama coaching me through. after that, she showed me different positions that helped me get through contractions. she loved her profession and it showed! catori is a darling girl with these big ol’ cheeks and ginormous blue eyes. she laughs from her belly with this guttural music…and it is so fitting for her. i’d like to think part of the reason that she’s such a sweet girl is because of gina’s help in making her entrance into this world a gentle one! ANGEL #3
after that, a woman named “angelee” came in. sadly, i can’t tell you that we had met her in the past, nor can i remember how she helped that friday night…but i was laughing. out loud. because God couldn’t have gotten any clearer, showing us VERY directly “HERE are your angels. and YES…i never stopped listening. PS. i love you!”
daddy got me some soup from panera that night, we settled in, and took the first dose of the medicine around 8:30pm. both of us slept so lightly…trying to anticipate how your birth story would unfold…