And With Her She Brought Forgiveness

I told myself to breathe long, deep breaths and pray my prayer that all would go well and smoothly.  And so I did – over and over.  The nurse told me it was time and I gave her my best puppy dog eyes.  I knew the next step – my least favorite part of this way to have a baby.  I began to think I even liked the recovery more than this. 

I leaned over and put my arms around her neck just as she instructed.  I began to pray my prayer again but then my mind drifted away, forcing me to remember why I was even here in this room to begin with…

It all goes back to that first delivery, when I made the decision to be induced and my baby boy was not making his way out.  His heart-rate dropped.  I cried.  I did not want to be cut open. That was not the plan. 

And so I pushed and I pushed and he had to have even more help to come out, enough so that we were both scarred.  In the end both my baby and I were alright but it took months, maybe even years in some ways.  My decision seemed all wrong.  My life as a mother had a pretty rough start.  It was not supposed to feel or be this way. 

I internalized so much of it.  I shook it off.  I chose to have my next baby come in an O.R., as well as this baby, the third, my little girl… 

I lay down on the table and soon after my love walked in the room, fully clad in hospital scrubs.  He looked down at me, his eyes glistening, and asked if I was ready to meet our baby girl and I smiled up at him.  I knew I was. 

My doctor spoke and let me know that he was starting.  And in that moment, right then and there, I forgave myself.  I did it for my first baby, for my second and for my third. I did it for my husband and for myself.  I forgave.  I had to do it so that I could carry on. 

As the peace of my own forgiveness filled my heart, I heard her first cries.  Just moments after that I saw her face for the first time, the baby that rounded out our family – the baby that brought forgiveness with her.

And I was saved.