Confession: I’ve been avoiding writing. Ok, I’ve been 50% avoiding writing and 50% too busy breast feeding and manhandling a toddler. (To be clear, the toddler is not the one I am breast feeding).
Since it is New Year’s Eve, I decided it’s time to write about the best/scariest moment of my year.
Since my previous post, I gave birth to our son and in that experience I discovered that despite already having been through the birthing process, I was still ignorant to some realms of childbirth. Or maybe it has less to do with ignorance and more to do with a false sense of invincibility. Regardless, my experience in giving birth to my son was so vastly different from that of my experience birthing my daughter that the experiences may as well live on different planets. They are the Mars and Venus of birthing stories.
The moment my husband and I walked into the labour and delivery unit, our previous experience was rendered null and void. We were about to embark on some of the scariest few minutes of our lives, and we were about to learn (on Thanksgiving Sunday no less) what it truly means to feel blessed and grateful.
The entire experience in the labour and delivery unit lasted only a few hours, but they will be imprinted on me for no less than a lifetime.
Later we would hear how common our experience was. Later we would hear how half the babies born at the hospital that night had similar complications. Later we would hear testimonials and reassurances of other’s parallel experiences.
But in that moment, as our son entered into this world, we heard only silence. And the silence was deafening. It stopped our hearts and it paralyzed our limbs. I will never forget the look on my husband’s face as he bore witness to the terrifying first few minutes of our son’s entry into this world.
As the seconds dragged into minutes and the minutes felt like hours we watched a team of specialists tend to our blue boy. Never have I felt so helpless, and never have I clung so desperately to hope.
After what felt like a millennium, the room filled with the most amazing sound I have ever heard in my entire life: the cries of our newborn baby boy.
And we took a collective breath as our son was wisked to the NICU.
The next few hours were a blur. We didn’t get to hold our sweet boy until hours after his birth, but once we held our perfect 7lb bundle in our shaky arms we didn’t ever want to let go.
And since then, we haven’t. Baby Z made us a family of four and has stolen the hearts of his parents and sister.
Thanksgiving has a whole new meaning for this little family.
As I look back on this year of special additions, multiple moves, and many changes, the words Blessed and Grateful don’t seem to adequately express what is truly in my heart. But Love does. The love in my heart for my little family is full to bursting and extends to all of you.
Happy New Year…may this year provide you with more love than you ever imagined possible.