The sweet nurse ushered us into another room, Suite 5, I will never forget that number. I have spent a total of 9 days in our local birth center, three days for each of my sweet boys. For all of those bliss-filled moments I never thought of those mothers who had gone before me. A silent ultrasound, and the darkness and pain that follows.
The nurse started and IV and began the preperation for what would become the most difficult path that I have ever walked. Some close friends and a pastor from our church joined us, and began the difficult task of praying for God’s will and mercy through the next few hours. Going to prayer was easy, a comfort really. The difficult part was knowing what to pray for?
A miracle? God can…
Comfort? He met us in our need….
Peace? He blanketed us with that assurance that he was there….
Is it possible to feel the arms of Jesus surround you and comfort you while you are in anguish? Yes, without a doubt. His presence was undeniable. For each moment that I felt hysteria creeping in, I also felt this overwhelming peace that brought rest.
The night was long and incredibly painful. I was offered medicine, and I did take some, to help take the edge off. But the pain was necessary…I needed to feel it, the pain was all I could take with me.
The doctor who had told me the news, was someone I had never met before, but she was so kind and understanding. I asked her to call my doctor and see if it were possible for her to make it to the delivery. I think the on-call doctor realized how much of a bond my OB and I share, and told me that she would do her best to get my regular Doctor in the room for delivery.
Dr. O made it, that was truly a gift from God, to have the assurance that someone who knew me, loved me and understood how much we were hurting, and how much we loved our daughter. Well it made this experience much more manageable.
Ireland Elizabeth Hanson was born at 0824 on January 26th, 2010. One pound and 11 inches. This tiny little, fully formed, amazingly beautiful little princess. Her birth was nothing extrodinary, a couple of pushes and she was out. But oh, the impact of those moments. I was terrified to see her, but when she was born and laid on my chest the feeling of love and protective instinct bubbled over. She was my daughter, my legacy, and I loved her, all of her.
We had her all day, she was bathed, rocked, prayed over, sang to and loved by her family. All of them. Everyone got to meet her and love her and say good-bye. We saw in those hours with Ireland, our family unit solidify. The pain in the room was palatable, but the peace of Jesus and the moments where I could feel people lifting us in prayer was undeniable.
A beginning and and end all in one day. I am still not sure how to wrap my human mind around the thought that “God works for the good of those who love him.” I don’t feel like this is good. But I trust that God will make beauty from ashes, and that I will see my sweet Ireland again. Completly whole, and wrapped in Jesus’ arms.
Until then my girl, rest well.