I'm getting really close to having Asa. I'm finally excited and ready to meet him. I knew God would get me to where I needed to be when I needed to be there! He never fails. I'm glad I didn't buy into some peoples' opinions that I needed to let go of Rachel and focus on Asa or else I wasn't "recognizing my new gift" or "being grateful for what I do have." I NEEDED that time to continue to grieve Rachel - and Me, God, Rachel and Asa were all ok with it. I was never not able to recognize the gift Asa is, just having a hard time not being detached and believing that this pregnancy would end in a live baby. I could have felt really guilty about it and tried to fake my way to feeling how others' wanted me to, but I'm so glad I just trusted God with where I was at - with where I AM at, because I'm sure I'm still not up to some peoples' expectations or approval. It can be hard to not worry about what others think, with so many opinions floating around and being in the spot light through the hardest days of my life. But God has been so gracious to me - and my girl is worth it.
So now that I'm getting ready for delivery, I've been thinking about the hospital a lot more.....
I guess when I rolled down that hallway in a wheel chair empty handed last December 6th as I left the hospital, I thought I'd never step foot in there again. Getting prepared to go back has had the hallways, the rooms, and people all on my mind again. Details that I have pretty much pushed aside and forgotten about as much as possible. And one of the big parts that keeps coming back to me is the check-in.
On the first floor of the hospital, early in the morning on December 3, 2010, Matt & I stood in a long line waiting to check in for my surgery. I stood there knowing it was only a matter of time before my baby would die. To everyone else, it appeared as if I was there to have a baby and I'm sure that brings the assumption that I would *have* a baby, especially since I walked in there myself as apposed to being rushed in by emergency staff. When I checked in and gave the security guy my list of people allowed in and not allowed in, he looked at me like I was just high maintenance. I asked for a copy of the newspaper for that day - and again, he reluctantly gave the 'pregnant lady in labor' what she wanted. I'm sure he didn't assume I wanted it for my baby's memory box.
I know nobody in that line had any idea that just a couple hours later I would be holding my baby dead.
I had no idea. I thought for sure that I would have more time. But time wasn't in my hands. Thinking back on this, knowing now what was just ahead for me, makes those moments seem so surreal... I cannot believe I really had to go through all that.
I went up to the labor and delivery floor and they brought me into a beautiful labor room, where I would end up staying for 4 days. I couldn't handle being moved down to the post-delivery floor with other woman and their babies - so they made an exception for me. (and they were really busy too, so this wasn't something they had to do for me!) And I actually asked to stay an extra day because every time I thought about leaving without my baby, I would have a total anxiety attack. Actually, I was having anxiety attacks if Matt even walked through the room too quickly as he was packing our stuff. It was the hardest time of my life.
So 4 days after I had her, pumped full of pain meds for my incision and anxiety medicine to help me get through the hallway without having a breakdown, they wheeled me out to the car and we left. I still can picture, clear as day, opening the trunk to put in all our stuff and seeing the car seat in it. I had hoped and begged that we would need it. When we closed the trunk on top of it, a pain so deep went through my heart. I was really leaving without my baby.
And so now I'm getting ready to go back to that hospital. Again I will stand at the check in and go up the elevator to the birthing floor. I will have a baby, and hopefully 3 days later, go down that same hallway holding him. I might cry harder this time - as a matter of fact, I'm sure I will. There is just something about a live baby, hearing a cry after birth, and full arms that makes the reality of a silent delivery room, a dead baby and empty arms that much more profound. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that...
But as I've learned throughout my journey with and without Rachel... God always gets me to where I need to be when I need to be there. And I KNOW when I show up at check-in, He'll be there waiting for me. In the elevator, He will be there. In the delivery room, He'll be there. If something goes wrong, He will be there. If everything goes right, He'll be there. And when they wheel me down that hallway again, with - or without - my baby boy... He will already be there. So I know I'll be okay.