Birthday Eve ~ remembering one year ago

One year ago, I was pacing the hallways of a maternity ward, waiting for our son to be born. My husband and I were fortunate to have the privilege of staying in the hospital until we were able to take our son home, since the maternity ward had special rooms for "special situations" so that parents could stay with babies until they were released to go home.  In our case, that would be 72 hours from birth. We arrived at the hospital on a Monday, after getting the call that morning that birthmom had gone into labor, so we knew we'd be staying until at least Thursday... and ultimately turned out to be Friday. We settled in as best we could that first night, hesitant to bring in our diaper bag and baby supplies until we were certain (or pretty certain) that we would actually be bringing baby home.  And yet, we took it in stride. There was so much peace there for us. Lots of silent prayers. Some brief moments of fear.  But ultimately, we had a sense that everything was going to be just as it would be, and it was out of our control. We chose to be as present as we could be.

Monday afternoon, we had had a chance to visit briefly a couple times with birthmom, who was laboring down the hall. Things weren't progressing very rapidly and she was eventually given medication to help speed up the labor.  Our conversations were lighthearted and birthmom seemed very calm about everything, easy going.  We met her parents for the first time that afternoon. Her mother seemed distant, her father seemed uncomfortable.  We did our best to make an honest first impression, and tried to be careful to give space and not intrude on the experience for birthmom. We did a lot of waiting.  There were times that we weren't sure what to do with ourselves. It was clear to us which nurses were comfortable with our "situation" and our expected role, and which nurses were not.  We sometimes felt at a loss for words explaining who we were; "adoptive parents for room 131"? No one had given us any guidance or information about what to expect at the hospital, or what to do. We were walking through the experience blindly, without instrucion. Never having done a hospital tour, or childbirth classes, we were relying on our own intuitions and common sense and praying for guidance to navigate the situation as graciously as we could. 

Late in the night, well past midnight, my husband was snoozing in one of our two hospital beds, and I decided to venture out in to the hallway, and maybe see if any of our ally-nurses were at the nurses station so that maybe I could get an update about what was going on.  The nurse on duty who started at 11 seemed pretty understanding.  Maybe she would be around.  Instead, I saw birthmom's mother sitting in one of the chairs at the end of our hallway, all by herself.  Something nudged me to go over and ask her how she was doing.  I was struck with a lot of compassion for this woman, who clearly seemed to be struggling, and I wanted to make a connection if I could.  We ended up talking for quite a while. She shared a bit of how she was feeling and spoke to her confidence in her daughter choosing our profile and how her daughter had felt confirmed after meeting us that she had chosen the right people to raise her baby.  I shared that we had felt the same after meeting her daughter, that this was the "birthmom" that was the right fit for us, and that we believed God had put it all together.  It was hard to guage her reaction to what I shared, but the conversation continued, and she eventually welcomed me to go with her again and check on her daughter who, she figured, wasn't sleeping much.  We had a quick visit and decided to turn in for a while since things were going slow... she was feeling a little bit more uncomforable but was going to try to sleep...

When I woke up later on it was about 6am. I woke up a bit panicked, not having planned to sleep that long. What if I missed the birth?!   I checked in at the nurses station and was allowed to pop in birthmom's room. She was awake and welcomed me in to her room. She was clearly in more active labor and took breaks in our conversation with contractions. I think, remembering back, I wasn't sure how close she was to delivering, and I remember feeling a lot of admiration for her. But I also felt a bit out of place. I wanted to be very careful to be respectful of her privacy and not ask too many questions. She seemed very willing to answer anything I did ask, and seemed pretty "no nonsense" about delivering, and I couldn't seem to get a good sense about where she was at emotionally. So I just was there. Shortly. And then it was time - I asked her if she wanted me to get the nurse and she said yes, so that was what I did... and then I got Jeremy... and then we stood in the hall, feeling a little out of place... with one nurse warning us that we really weren't allowed to be in the hall but that she would let it slide until shift change (which was at 7am). We paced, keeping our ears open, watching and listening as orders were given, the doctor was called, aides went in and out of the room with various supplies, trying to stay out of the way, but wanting so much to be right there... finally the doctor arrived and within minutes we heard that first cry. A baby was born. 6:48am. Alive. Crying. Our baby?  Our baby.  More nurses orders, "cord blood kit", blankets, the doctor sat to do paperwork, and we were instructed to go to our room and wait until someone came to get us...

These are just some of the details. Honestly, I haven't processed this all to try to recount the events until now. I can't express the emotion loaded into even the smallest details. I'm glad to have it written down. I will need to work at unpacking it... and sharing more.