Child of My Dreams
I finally got out of bed around 5.00a.m....today was the day. I don't really think I slept much, because I was so excited - I would finally get to meet my daughter. I felt another contraction coming on, but I didn't bother to time them. At least now, I knew what a contraction was. The first time I had one, I didn't even know. Just over a year ago, I had spent hours in pre-term labor and didn't even know it. This time, however, everything was different - no fibroids, no pre-mature contractions, no miscarriage. By God's grace, I had carried my precious baby to term and I was about to see the substance of His promise. It was time.
Roughly half an hour later, we were at the hospital. It was dark in the parking lot, and I waddled, in the fashion of the heavily pregnant towards the the lights at the entrance. My parents and husband followed closely. I was scheduled for a C-Section at 7.30 that morning and I was eager to get it done.
Everything zipped by...and before I knew it, I was in the pre-delivery room hooked up to a fetal monitor. I asked the nurse to turn up the volume so I could hear the baby's heartbeats...in a couple of hours, she would no longer share my body. I was pretty sure it would feel weird, but I was excited too. My husband and I kept ourselves busy, taking pictures. I laughed at him because he looked funny in his paper scrubs...he didn't care though. My parents were in the waiting room, and I wouldn't see them until after the baby was born.
The anxiety didn't kick in until I was in the delivery room, under the harsh bright lights, being asked to curve my spine so I could get the epidural...I tried not to be afraid of the needle, or what would happen if I moved when I wasn't supposed to - I thought about God and told myself I was secure in His Hands.
I didn't feel the incision, but the hot sulfuric smell of blood told me I had been cut. There was tugging, pulling...pulling, tugging, muted music in the background, and conversation - the doctors chatted among themselves, my husband and I talked a little bit too. I was relieved they had screened the surgery off, so my husband and I couldn't see anything.
Thirty minutes after the first incision, my precious daughter was born. In the fashion of the uninitiated, I expected her to come out bawling and said as much. The doctor smiled (I could hear it in his voice) and told me to give her a second. Sure enough, a few seconds after she was born, she announced her arrival to the room.
Hot tears of joy and relief wet my face, and words of praise left my mouth - finally, the child I had dreamt of was here.
July 30, 2010
Today, I look at that baby, my sweet princess - I can hardly believe she is one year old. A whole year!! I smile as I see her toddling around the whole house - babbling in excitement, trying to repeat words when I say them, laughing at her secret jokes or my silly faces/antics, complaining when I tell her not to play with Mummy's perfume, shadowing my every move. She's such a joy and I thank God for giving me the privilege to be her mother. There was a time when I felt sure I would not be a mother, but God has proved me so wrong, and am I glad He did!!
The pain from the baby that never was is like a faded scar - it doesn't really hurt anymore, but is a reminder of a wound previously suffered. I try not to wonder what could have been - God gave me the child I was meant to have and today, on her first birthday, I rejoice and exclaim - How great is My God!!
Onyih Odunze