The Making of Our Family - Part VII

The majority of the danger of continued problems with my liver had subsided by the 28th.  I seemed to be out of the danger zone.  The drains in my abdomen had slowed.  A couple of the IV's were taken out.  That horrid jugular vein IV was removed. 

I had started to feel a little more normal.  I didn't seem as tied to bags of fluid around my bed anymore.  The shock of the situation had begun to lessen.  I was ready to get in a wheelchair and see my daughter.  N was more than ready to introduce me.

The day was filled with visitors.  Family who were leaving that day wanted to say good-bye.  Nurses who were there when I wasn't coherent wanted to introduce themselves.  The lactation specialist was ready for me to start pumping.  And Nurse Becky wanted to make sure I was okay.

She had been checking on Zoe for me and assured me she was perfect.  She also wanted to share with me those moments of her birth that I had missed.  Her first cry and the color of her skin.  God sent Becky to be my eyes.  What neither N nor I knew when she first came into the Labor and Delivery room that Friday afternoon was that Becky is a Christian. 

Not only was she my nurse, she was the one that God had chosen to spring to action to save both Zoe and me.  As I lay there, unconscious and broken, Becky was praying for me and for Zoe.  The second that she heard Zoe's cry, she fell to her knees and praised God.  It was His servant that He entrusted Zoe and I to.  She was the one who would pray and thank Him when I couldn't.

After hearing how great Zoe looked at birth, I had more confidence in seeing her.  I was still scared of the unknown, but beyond ready to meet her. 

N wheeled me into the NICU area and taught me how to scrub my hands so I wouldn't transfer any germs to Zoe.  He told me to not touch her too much as that uses calories for her and she needs every calorie she can get.

As he wheeled me past all the isolets with small babies in them, I realized she was 2 days old.  Would I recognize her?  Would she know me at all?  How do I make up for the lost 48 hours?

Then I saw her.  She was laying on her back, in a "frog" position.  Her skin was pink and somewhat translucent.  I was afraid to touch her, not wanting her to lose any calories or to bother her thin skin.  The nurse assured me that as long as I kept my hand on her still, she would be fine.

I reached my hand through the small window on the isolet and placed my hand on her leg.  Then I began talking to her.  At the sound of my voice, she opened her eyes to see me.

N and I had our first moment as a family.  The moment we dreamt of on her due date, still 10 weeks in the future.  We both had to go through the ordeal, both had to surrender ourselves to Him.  On January 28th, we were both the parents Zoe deserved.  It wasn't just the three of us in that moment, He was there.  He was the foundation for the first time in our lives together.  All the fears, all the worries vanished.  He would carry us.  He had carried us.  We just finally saw Him clearly.