Six years ago, I woke up at about the time I write this now... it was the official get off of bed rest day, get out of the perinatal until day, become a mom day. I had spend the night before looking at the data about what can happen with preemies at this stage. While the data was good, it was still scary. My nurses had scolded me for going there. I was supposed to be scheduled for a 6 am delivery, but there was some trouble... though I never could get my hands on why... but I will assume scheduling the parties (the OB and the neonatology team) that needed to be there was a bit problematic. I did not quite realize how many people have to be there for"scheduled" preemie deliveries. I think we fit in myself (though I had to be there), my husband, mother, my allo-mother, my OB, two nurses, and 2 neonatologists and a neonatology nurse. Wow 10 people, just realized how many of us there were in there.
Squink would go on to give us some of the most harrowing times in our lives, two weeks of his tiny body full of tubes and probes. I will say that from the moment he left that space and as his status improved in the following months that I have been blessed with a miracle. I see this little boy running and playing, saying the most endearing things, and I am happy. That kind of happy that quiets my heart and mind.
Last night he sang me a song about how Jesus was "tumbly" born (which he says is how everyone is born) in the city of "Bek Lah Hem" (which he insists is a city in heaven).
"Tumbly" - how true :)
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