One year ago today I heard the sweetest sound of my life.
It was a Friday and we were 3 days away from our scheduled c-section for Baby Breech (actually we called him Baby Nutter Butter; we have named our children in utero. Our daughter is Baby Snowpea). We went in to see our Dr. which was not at all unusual; we had been going in twice a week since the beginning of December for stress tests, heartbeat counts and ultrasounds. When you lose your first for no apparent reason they keep a really close eye on you.
I remember when they called me in early December to tell me the twice a week plan and I told them that is great, thank you, I understand the need and we will be there…. But do you know what I do for a living?
By February 4th we knew we had a healthy baby boy in there who liked to push up with his feet and implant his head into Mommy’s ribs. Ouch!
So we went in on Friday and heard the heartbeat and then went for the ultrasound. The doctor stared long and hard at the screen… while I tried not to panic. You see, we had been there before. I was confused too though because I could feel The Boy moving around in there. Everything had to be alright, didn’t it?
The Dr. stepped back and I asked the question that I had a hard time pushing through my lips since I had asked it once before: “Is everything alright?”
Dr: He looks great, but the fluid levels around him have dropped.
TDH: (all of the sudden channeling every hospital show he as ever seen) Do we need to go in there and get him? (Seriously, looking back this is so funny. We’re lucky the guy didn’t scrub up right then and and try to dig The Boy out with a tongue depresser!)
Dr: Yeah, I think that would be a good plan.
My first thought: Wow!
My second thought: Thank GOD, because my sermon for Sunday SUCKS!
At that point my sermon was titled, “I am so freakin’ huge please get this kid out of me!”
So TDH and I headed on over to the hospital making calls as we went. We called the Church Administrative Assistant to tell her to call the parishioners who were my preaching back-ups (one of whom I had emailed that morning to say it looked like he was off the hook). We called my Mom whose response was, “Now?!” (in her defense she had an all day meeting scheduled… one you had better believe she left early.)
We then decided that there was enough time to send TDH home for my overnight bag and our new digital camera. He of the midwestern origin and known for taaaaaking hiiiiiiiis timmmme made a one hour round trip (including grabbing stuff at the house on his list) in about 30 minutes!
Five minutes before they wheeled me into the delivery room I taught him how to use our new camera.
We went through the prep process and a sheet was put up so that we could see nothing of what was going on… and then we heard it.
We had been in a delivery room before. We had gone through a long and intense, forced labor and the only sounds to be heard were our own tears. But this time was different.
This time we heard a healthy outburst in one short trumpet blast, “Wah!” We caught our breathe, stared at each other and then listened as our Boy let the whole world know he was in the room… and healthy!
That was the sweetest sound of my life.
Happy Birthday little man. You have transformed our lives for the better. We love you!