Dear Lil Z-Bear:
Here is the story of how you came into our world.
8 months before birth
We weren’t really planning on having you just yet. Then, in November, it just happened. It was the week after Thanksgiving and I had a hunch. I didn’t tell anyone since I wasn’t even sure. I woke up in the morning after your papa left for work, took the test, and there, staring before me was the plus sign that meant that you were coming. I smiled, I felt so content. And I felt so grateful. The first thing I did was wash up and pray. I felt so humbled that we were given such a precious gift. The next thing I did was send a text message to your papa that said “Little one is on the way.” His response was: “God is great.” I knew then that all would be well.
We were 33 weeks into carrying you, and all was going swimmingly. I was having a very easy pregnancy for the most part, and we were very excited. We had undertaken an ambitious goal of moving before you were born. All the boxes were packed, all your stuff was bought but it was still in boxes ready for the move. Your papa and I had a 4 day weekend ahead of us, some movers ready to help out, and we were going to get everything done, 6 weeks before your arrival date.
It was 6:45 am and we were up laying in bed planning the weekend out, I got out of bed and realized that I had water running down my legs. I thought my bladder had simply given up on me, but when I rushed to the bathroom, I realized my water had broken. Your papa and I looked at each other in disbelief. I took a quick shower while papa got dressed. He asked me what he should pack on the way to the hospital. I said no need, I don’t quite know why, somehow I still thought that the doctor would take one look at me, say it was nothing, no worries and send me back home. I guess I wasn’t quite ready for you yet, so my mind couldn’t get around the fact that you were coming.
The ride to the hospital was a quiet one, your papa and I held hands, our lips moving as we both prayed silently. It was a warm, sunny Friday morning, and we walked hand in hand from the parking lot to the hospital. We still didn’t say much to each other. We were both so overwhelmed with feelings, even if we had talked, I don’t think there are words on this earth that could have encompassed all we felt. We walked to the maternity ward, the doctor did a check up, and yup, indeed you were coming. The doctor decided that since I was two days shy of 34 weeks, we would wait for two days before delivering while monitoring you closely to see if anything changed. Since you were head up, the delivery would have to be a C-section, and I would get steroids to ensure your lungs were mature enough to breath. 8 months of careful planning of how I wanted the birth to be didn’t matter, all that we wanted was for you to be ok.
The two days spent in the hospital were tough. I stayed in bed and worked on keeping you snug in my belly while your papa spent the two days moving into our new place before you arrived. I passed the time between praying for your safe arrival, reading up on C-sections and about babies who arrive before their due date, and watching the World Cup games that were going on at that time to distract me a little.
The morning of your birth, I took a nice long shower, and was ready 2 hours before the scheduled 10 o’clock surgery. Your papa and I were excited, nervous, and scared at the same time. When I was in the operating room, I felt cold and apprehensive; it just seemed like it was happening so fast, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for you yet. Once they gave me the anesthesia and I felt numb, I felt a little calmer. Then your papa came in and sat down next to me, and I did not feel nervous anymore. We held each other’s hand tight and we both kept praying the whole time. I prayed for your health and your safe arrival into this world, I prayed for you to be a righteous person. I prayed for forgiveness, I prayed to be a good mother, I prayed for my family and their wellbeing, and I prayed for the end of suffering of the needy in this world, and softening of the hearts of all the people in the world: I wanted this world to be a beautiful, kind place for you. I turned over and looked at your papa and I saw him praying too, and I knew we were both praying for the same things.
Then there was a moment when the room went quiet and there was the sound of shuffled feet and quick hands, and then we heard a wail. The sound filled the room, yet it still was dainty and small. Tears sprung to my eyes, and your papa and I held hands, we smiled while we cried. A few minutes later your papa brought you close to me and I got to see your face, your eyes closed, your skin pink, and I couldn’t believe you belonged to me. It was a brief minute before they whisked you away to the special care nursery. But it was enough to know that you would be ok.
I have heard a lot of bad stories about C-sections, but I was very blessed that everything went so well, both during the surgery and during my recovery. I was on such a euphoric high after your were born, either my own body releasing endorphins, or the stuff they had put in my IV. I was so glad that you had come into this world, I felt fantastic, if I could, I would have hopped off the operating table and jumped for joy. While I was wheeled in to the recovery room, I called my parents, who were oceans away, and told them all had gone well. Your papa went in to the nursery to check on you and then came back to tell me everything was ok. A bit later I was wheeled into the nursery and I got to hold you for the first time. You were absolutely perfect, and there are few moments when I have felt as happy as I did then.
It was not how I had imagined it to be, I had expected an on time, normal delivery, to hold you in my arms once you were born, I had expected to have you in my room and feed you instead of spending the night pumping breastmilk. I had expected we would have moved and have everything set for your arrival. I had expected to take you home with me when we left the hospital. But none of that mattered, things don’t always happen the way you plan, but everything happens for a reason. And now, exactly 7 months later, I don’t think I would have wanted it to happen any other way, it was all perfect.
Love you my Z-Bear.