Saturday, July 23, 2011

so good

I keep starting to write the story of all that transpired on Tuesday. I always quit.

There is a part of me that wants to go back there, that has needed to go back there.

There's also a part of me that wants to put it in the past and move forward.

A woman who deals with women who have had traumatic births at this hospital told me that the emotion will probably hit me at really odd times and catch me off guard.

The whole time they were working on me, the only thing I could focus on was a 3 month outfit my mother in law had given Phoebe. "Please, God, let me be there the day she fits into that. Don't let it just be Scott and Lucy trying to figure out how to button it up. I can't leave them yet."

As the doctors ran me down the hallway, yelling at each other, practically using their scalpels before I was asleep, I kept feeling this pervading, peaceful calm. I gave up trying.

You hear that?

I gave up trying.

I knew that I would either wake up looking at the face of God, or I would wake up in a recovery room. And either way, I had to let it go.

Scott was sobbing and leaning over me and his tears were falling down my cheeks and the only thing I could think to do was to lead him in a prayer.

The last thing I remember was losing my vision and a nurse saying, "She's coding."

I don't know if I expected God to answer my prayer and let me live, or not. In much the same way that after 4 years of pregnancy loss I can't believe that the little girl with the profile just like her big sister's and the squeaky noises was given to me, perfectly healthy and whole - lying in her bassinett, and I can pick her sweet little body up any time I want.

She doesn't care about pregnancy tests, or ultrasounds, or what month which miscarriage happened. She doesn't care about anything other than the fact that she gets hungry, and she needs me to feed her. She gets lonely, and she needs me to cuddle her up.

I guess I'll write the stories down, sometime, but I keep getting this nudge that it's time for my heart to rest, to reconcile, to move forward.

It is sweet.



17 comments:

Anonymous said...

God is great! Love you!
Kerri

deannaburasco said...

I love you so much Rachel and I thank God you are still with us!

Lindsay said...

I'm glad you're doing well. I've been thinking about you and happy to see an update that you're doing well.

Hugs to you and your wonderful family!

-Lindsay

Sandy said...

Oh Rachey....
Love you and all yours so much; ever grateful for your lives and the life of faith that resides so deeply within...
"To God be the glory, great things He hath done...."
"..through it all, through it all, I've learned to trust in Jesus..."
Sing it as only you can!
Sandy

Leah W said...

your doing good kiddo.

worry about the rest another day.

marcia said...

Very, very sweet! Just bask in it! :)

Renee said...

Beautiful! God is so good!

asplashofsunshine said...

Your writing is inspirational. Your life is striking. Thanks for sharing and the honesty. So glad you are doing better and baby is too.

Cole said...

What happened on Tuesday is only one part of your amazing story, Rach. I think of the days you've survived in the last week...it took me back to hearing about your tubal a year and a half ago...I'm just so grateful God has brought you through it all to be the amazing woman you are. I love seeing Phoebe resting by her Mama, she looks so perfectly content. Such an amazing picture of love. =)

Mindy said...

It IS a time for rest and peace and to heal. I'm so happy you are all there to do it together.

Rach said...

Take it one moment at a time. When it is time to remember, you will. For now, it's time to just be with Phoebe.

God's blessing is upon you. Enjoy that. :o)

Hugs!

TiAnna Mae said...

Who could dispute that! Go on and have fun with your new baby and family!

Sabrina said...

Beautiful post. I love this picture where you have both IV's in. I wish I had one of mine with Gianna. So humbling that without God, that IV, and that unknown person you would probably not be here. God is good!

Thoughts for the day said...

I know God has a purpose and a plan. Your daughter is beautiful and you are a miracle, and I just want to remind you (as if I have to right?) go slow... go slower... pace yourself as much as possible. Going through what you just did is big and the emotions will come, when they do allow it. You are in a healing process.

Sheila said...

But just think of the day that Phoebe opens her eyes wide and sees...... "The House".....
Surely she needed her mommy to be there to witness that!
Hugs

Inkling said...

You know what? After my traumatic birth injury, I couldn't talk about it for months. I had a blog (that I ended up taking private) and all these readers who were dying to know, but I simply couldn't talk about it. I still don't really know why. Then one day I could talk about it. And now I talk about it in order to help other women and educate medical folks. But that's my story. You may never get to a place where you want to share publicly and that's okay. It's a little like Mary pondering all the things the angel told her and storing them up in her heart. Some things - including events such as yours - are sacred in a way. That's not quite the right word, but it's the closest I can come up with. I don't even know you, but you are in my prayers. I don't have your exact story at all, but I do know what it's like to have a birth story that changes life as you know it. And so I keep asking Jesus to hold you and heal your body AND your heart.

addy1013 said...

OH MY! i haven't been by to read for a little while! sounds like things have been INSANE, to put it lightly. congrats on your sweet angel. her name is beautiful! i pray you are able to let go and soak her in. so glad you are ok.