Daddy's girls

It's been hard to organize my thoughts as of late. My mind darts from place to place in fear of being chased by something that has yet to be identified. To call this feeling worry doesn't do much justice to my current state because it's far greater and immensely more beautiful than anything with such a negative connotation. I'm elated... the joy that fills my heart when I dream of that little blue eyed bundle with my namesake is a mystical secret that can only be described by the love that I feel for the only other girl that has sabotaged my heart.

For the past two weeks the best part of my day is sitting with my girls on a strangely comfortable hospital bench, finally safe, lost in the rhythm of a strong heartbeat and the image of building sandcastles with a tiny bathing beauty in whose eyes I do no wrong. I wrap her up, melted by her salty kisses and pass her to mommy... she sleeps in her shade. I sit with pride and observe the miracle of where she is, where she began and where she will always want to be.

Creating life is such a miracle, one that I wish I could say I played a greater part in. My job was easy and rather fun :) Hardly the arduous task of supporting a parasite for 8 months, or seeing the outside world only through a window, on your back, during a seemingly endless hospital stay. The payday for this 24 hour job is pain that I never hope to draw comparison to.
Through this process I have determined that we men are by far the inferior species. Nature suggests that we are necessary, but I'm convinced that our main function is support, not always an easy pill to swallow. My peace lies in the confidence that I have in my girls, in the resilience of my wife and the resolve of my daughter and I know that our day in the sun will arrive. In the meantime, I wait... uneasy and impatient, not exactly what a man is supposed to do. I'm learning.

A Mother's Love

“I think you’re really beginning to understand a mother’s love. I know you knew it but now you feel it as well.”

Those are the words that my mom texted to me a couple days into my hospital stay. It’s true – I’m feeling all sorts of new things that I never have before. It’s beautiful and scary all at the same time. Ten or so days ago when I was feeling worse physically than I ever have in my life, ALL I could pray was, “God, please wrap your hands around this baby girl & keep her safe from all of this. Don’t let her feel what I’m feeling now.”

Now, as I’m feeling much better, it’s amazing how every day I spend in this bed….every time all modesty escapes me during a bed bath from the nurse techs…..every time all humiliation sets up camp in the female urinals and/or the bedpan next to my bed…..every time I feel one more muscle fiber waste away (today marks day 15 that my feet haven’t touched the ground!)…..every time I realize that more food makes it onto my chest and belly than into my mouth as I attempt to eat in a reclined position ….every time I catch an glimpse of this unfortunate bed-head hair in a mirror…..the ONLY thing that truly matters is that my innocent baby is healthy, comfortable, and growing daily in my belly. Each day that I spend here is possibly one more day that she doesn’t have to spend here in the NICU or the nursery.

I believe that God puts this matchless love referred to as “a mother’s love” inside of each of us at just the right time. If He had accidentally missed me, or perhaps as a supplement to this natural feeling, I’m comfortable knowing that I’ve had a uncommonly wonderful teacher. I won’t even go into the things my mom has done for me since I’ve been in this hospital (that she probably thought she was done doing by the time I turned 1-year-old or so)….On top of that, I’m quite certain that on any given day she could’ve gotten no sleep, had some type of fender-bender on the way to the hospital, been diagnosed with some rare illness, spilled a hot drink all over herself, been bitten by a dog on the walk into the hospital, and more, but when she arrived in room 3040 she’d put on a smile and say, “Hey, how are you feeling? What can I do for you? Everything’s just fine with me!” and I’d never know what she’d been through that morning.

When I was a little girl in Sunday School at First Baptist Church Lake Jackson, I remember the teacher saying to us, “You know how much your parents love you? Well, Jesus loves you even more than that!” Just as if it were yesterday, I very clearly remember thinking, “Hmm, that’s a really nice thought, lady, but I don’t think you really know how much MY parents love me! I’m just not sure what you say is possible.” What a lucky girl I am that the concept my teacher spoke of was difficult for me to grasp.

Could I really be starting to feel myself pass on that same type of motherly love?

How I Got To Room 3040

At about 1am on Monday 3/15, David & I rushed to the ER at Brazosport Regional when I started having signs of pre-term labor. They immediately put me on the monitor to make sure the baby was okay, and the sound of her heartbeat (mixed with the sound of a case of the cutest baby hiccups) was the most beautiful sound we could imagine at that moment. The rest of the morning, however, was filled with more unpleasant sounds, such as that of IVs being hooked up, my doctor reporting on how far along in labor I had gotten, and sirens blaring as I was taken by ambulance to The Woman’s Hospital of Texas.

I was admitted to Labor and Delivery Room 10 at The Woman’s Hospital with the hope that I can hold off on delivery for a while. This hospital’s NICU has a wonderful reputation, though, so I’m in the right spot to be prepared for anything. With a few different types of medication, the doctors were able to get the contractions under control.

The next obstacle came just a couple days into my stay when one of the IV medications (magnesium sulfate) reached toxic levels in my system. That caused quite the scary & unpleasant reaction in my body! I was quickly taken off of that medicine and given oxygen support as well as a diuretic to help get the fluid out of my lungs, etc. The doctors said that delivering early would be less of a risk than what that medicine was doing to me.

Since then, I’ve been on only one medication to stop contractions, and it appears to be doing some good. I’m still having contractions, but I don’t feel them when I do have them. I’m now in Antepartum Room 3040 and things have slowed down significantly. Since I’ve already progressed in labor, the doctors want me on complete bedrest, meaning I eat, bathe, and use the restroom all in the same hospital bed….a not-so-lovely concept, but a small price to pay for a healthy baby girl! The journey to room 3040 was unpleasant and unexpected, but now that I’m here I hope to stay for a while.

The View From Room 3040

It looks like it's going to be a bright, bright sunshiney day. I'll never forget the feeling of being woken up by the words of that song in Jamaica. David and I were on our honeymoon and one morning, those words came riding along the perfect ocean breeze that floated through our balcony doors. We stepped out onto the balcony and the picture at the top of this blog homepage is what we saw. That day ended up being one of my top ten brightest.

As I write now, I can tell you that the outlook is still sunny. Although the sun hasn’t yet risen outside my window here in hospital room 3040… no Jamaican guys with captivating voices outside….no ocean breeze (or fresh air for that matter!) drifting in….no warm sand or gentle waves just a few feet away; The events of the past 12 days have helped me to focus on the sunshine that comes from within as well as the sunshine that other people bring. This sunshine can be more powerful than the 10,000 degree sun.

(The smaller picture above shows one of our frequent views here in room 3040: We catch ourselves staring at the computer screen that shows the results of the monitors that keep track of my contractions as well as the baby's heart rate. In the other pic, I'm rubbing on belly butter while David gives me a foot rub....can't complain!)