I hold this baby in my hand
And wonder what she’ll be
Will she run and roam the land,
Will she be wild and free?

Or will she calmly walk about
Within a bright, white gleam.
Listening to the quiet shout
Of the passing of a stream.

A vessel to fill with all that’s good.
I hold upon my arm.
And pray, as every parent should
To keep her safe from harm.

[Reply]

By Joyce on 05.05.09 9:17 pm | Permalink

Just a quick update, I’m at liz’s and we’re having tons of fun. I will write in a later, but I wanted to say Danny is doing fine, and so is Mommy. Love you Laura!

[Reply]

By Sarah on 05.05.09 11:13 pm | Permalink

That’s a hard prompt, Sarah! Give me 10 more days to figure something out!

[Reply]

By Ceylan on 05.07.09 4:44 pm | Permalink

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Memphis cried. “Please, Laif.”

I smiled at her, hopefully reassuring her a little, and wiped beads of sweat off her brow. “Honey, you can’t stop. You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”

Her hand tightened into a vice grip over mine. “Ooowwwwhhhh,” she hollered, bending at the waist as her body tensed. When her body relaxed a little, she began to cry again. “Please. I’m too tired. I can’t keep doing this.”

I pulled her face into my chest and held onto her for another minute before the hard contraction returned.

“The baby’s crowning,” Dr. Nelson said. “You’re almost there.”

Memphis relaxed a bit again. Steady tears fell. I hated watching her suffer. If only she hadn’t had the gangrene infection, the doctor could’ve given her pain medication. But her cervix had been behind the baby’s head when her water had broken, and so we didn’t know that it had happened. She had gone almost four days, having what we thought were Braxton hicks contractions, when in reality, she was in labor.

Then to watch as the doctor had to push the baby back up and hold the cervix in place with some kind of clip while she contracted, just about did us both in. I cried right along with her.

The green fuzz of amniotic fluid that rushed out of her, almost made me lose my lunch. The smell turned my stomach even more. She had been in so much pain that she didn’t seem to notice either. And I realized the intensity of pain had to be tremendous to not notice the overwhelming stench of rot.

“Okay, I’m going to try to help ease the head out,” Dr. Nelson said.

Memphis nodded and stared into my wet eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Weren’t women supposed to cuss and hate their husband’s for doing this to them? But not my precious wife. She still loved me. Even in excruciating pain, she loved me.

“I love you, too. And I’m so proud of you, little girl. You know you’re the most amazing girl I know. This last year has been the most miraculous of my life. I thank God for letting us be married.”

I wiped tears and sweat from her face as she began to contract again. My heart was breaking for her. How I wanted to remove her burdens. Take away her pain.

“Probably two more pushes.”

Memphis screamed out as the head broke through. “Okay, breath Memphis, you’re doing great,” Mom said. She and Alannah were both assisting. Memphis had insisted that her new Mom and her baby’s Godmother be present. I of course had no problem with that. Mom had advised me beyond what we had learned in Lamaze classes. And she helped Memphis focus and truly breath. Not short hyperventilating breaths, but slow, deep, cleansing breaths.

I bent down and gently kissed her lips. “You amaze me, sweetheart. I love you so much. Thank you for doing this.”

She smiled, but only for a second before her face screwed into pain and she contracted again. “Aaaagggggggggg.”

And at the end of that push, the most amazing sound. A crying baby. Memphis had just performed a miracle. She had given me the world.

“She’s got ten little fingers, and ten little toes,” Mom said. “She looks perfect.”

Memphis cried, this time it seemed, out of joy. “Can I see her? Can I have my baby?”

Mom wrapped her in a blanket and laid her across Memphis’s chest. “Hey there my little one, I’ve been waiting for you.”

[Reply]

By Sarah on 05.08.09 9:42 pm | Permalink