9/26/2006 08:02:00 a.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|"Babies come with hats," said a surprised Toby Ziegler on 'The West Wing'. I wasn't surprised by this, but I was very surprised at how much a little hat could mean after just 48 hours.
17 days ago we had a lovely, healthy little boy. We are very thankful. I got to the stage where it was time to push, and then the combination of his having both his feet down (instead of his head or his rump), and the fact that his heartrate sank in a big way, led to the decision to do an emergency c-section.
When they were wheeling me back out of the OR, drugged though I was, I heard a woman's voice say, "You have a boy." I looked to the right and out of the corner of my eye I saw a little blue and green knitted toque and his little face underneath. Then I don't remember anything until I woke up in recovery.
He had that little toque on the whole time we were in hospital, except when they had to weight him naked or when he was being bathed. I remarked to one of the staff how very cute the toque was, and a few hours later she felt obliged to tell me that we couldn't take it home. A retired labour and delivery nurse had knit a truckload of them, but lots of people had 'accidentally' packed them with their things and there weren't many left at all.
This made me so, so sad. One of the constants in this strange, amazing new world was his little blue and green hat. Even after less than two days it felt like a huge loss to not have this keepsake. I cried.
A couple of hours before the taxi came, another midwife was going over a few things with us. I asked her, amongst other things, how long he would need some kind of head covering all the time. Her response was to take the toque off then and there and say, "He's fine now."
That felt like a physical blow. When she had gone I cried again, and then sat and caressed the hat, feeling how soft it was, loving the cheerful colours. Even then, though, it meant a little less to me, lying on a table instead of firmly on his head. When the midwife and nurse came to say goodbye to us I managed to hand the toque to the nurse myself and said, "This belongs to labour and delivery." And then we left.
Day two of my son's life and I was starting to learn that motherhood is, amongst other things, about letting go. It may sound foolish, but all of this was painfully hard. However, I am glad that I didn't 'accidentally' take his toque home with me. I am glad that other newborn babies will be kept toasty warm.
There have already been lots of sweet moments (as well as exhausting, frustrating, crazy-making ones) and there are lots more to come. I have to love each 'now', and then say thank you and move on. This is heartbreaking, exciting and necessary. I cannot do it on my own. I am so grateful for grace and strength and peace that are not my own.|W|P|115925164038161629|W|P|Letting go|W|P|susan@carlens.se9/27/2006 02:33:00 a.m.|W|P| |W|P|Hello Susan H (C),
So nice to see you back at the Blog about your beautiful newborn!!! He is very precious from the pictures Anders sent out. One question though. What is his name?
Love to all three of you and so glad to hear you are adjusting well to Family life!!
Much Love
Susan H9/06/2006 06:44:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|Sometimes life is all about the extremes.
My due date was this past Saturday. Although it feels as if my body is working away at things, there is no real indication that our beloved little stranger is coming in the next little while. We are still waiting for our little one to be born.
My cousin Joy died one week ago. She was born with a very rare medical condition, and her life expectancy was 18-25 years. She lived to be 45, and we are all very grateful for the 'extra' years she had.
Birth and death in such immediate juxtaposition. Beginnings and endings. (Or, for Joy, the beginning of something new beyond this ending.) There is no way to understand it. We live on the edge of unsearchable mysteries, all the time, every day, but it is such times that pull back the curtain a little bit and make that obvious.
I am thankful for Joy's life. I am thankful for our little one. There are no guarantees for any of us, ever; life can throw curveballs at any moment. There is the promise that we are never left alone, never deserted, no matter how dark and difficult the road, and the One who promises is faithful.
I am thankful for this day. It is a gift.|W|P|115756175223631810|W|P|Both extremes|W|P|susan@carlens.se
|W|P|Hello Susan H (C),