Happy Birthday

I opened my eyes and the room was emptying.  I wasn’t allowed to hold my phoenix, but I was told she was doing okay.  She was breathing on her own, which was something they said she wouldn’t be able to do, due to her underdeveloped lungs and the fact that she had to one pound kidneys in her belly.  They were so large and cystic that they pushed up on her lungs in her newborn body.  I remembered what day it was, and thought about my stay in the hospital and how it was close to an end.  

Remember that before she was born, I was admitted into the “adult hospital” for my cardiac mumbo jumbo.  At least that’s how I felt about it.  I had also contracted mono somehow, which can also throw off heart troponin levels.  I think I said triglycerides before...yeah it was troponin.  I can’t even remember the issue.  That’s how obviously important it was to me at the time.  I had one focus, and that was to keep her in my body as long as possible so I could enjoy her being, well...alive.  

During my “staycation” in the high risk maternity unit, I met a few unique ladies.  I wanted to stay in my room by myself most of the time, but a volunteer named Mary convinced me to go to “group time.”  Mary was about five feet tall, gray haired, and gifted with patience.  She led a sewing and craft group for all the other glamorous vacation..I mean imprisoned, mamas.  We got to choose from a menagerie of recreational craft projects.  I already knew how to crochet, so I stuck with something comfortable.  I didn’t really want to talk to anyone about “why I was in,” so I listened at first. 

 Rynn was the most loquacious of the bunch and had no problem sharing her story.  Her water had broke early in the pregnancy and she was getting fluid replacement, and continuous monitoring.  The goal was to keep the baby in as long as possible before a c-section.  She mentioned her fears of the surgery and how she watched multiple videos to get accustomed to the idea.  She often shouted about ten gauge tools and the size of our doctor’s hands.  Dr. Javier was a very tall resident, with oddly small digits.  I hadn’t noticed until she said something, and it became a running joke with the ladies.  We poked fun and called him “Ole Javi hands.”  These jovial breaks each week became something I looked forward to.  

I eventually came out of my shell by taking up a sewing project.  I sewed a preemie bed bassinet.  It was blue and plaid and ugly as hell, but it allowed me to spark conversation with more than Rynn.  Rynn seemed to be the mother hen/comedian of the group, so she was easy to talk to, because she forced you to talk to her.  But, the other woman was more stately..quiet..and more like me.  She was an avid sewer and also a teacher.  I can’t remember why she was admitted, but I think it was a similar situation to Rynn.  She was more reserved than Rynn, but equally funny. There were a couple more women that came once or twice, but their stays were very short, so I didn’t really get to know them.  The final girl was a chain smoking lady that was not shy about the fact that she still smoked a pack a day at thirty weeks pregnant.  I would often see her outside when I took a walk around the campus.  She spoke of how her other two kids were taken from her and how her and her boyfriend lived from friends house to friends house.  She was proud that she stopped smoking weed and was only doing cigarettes.  She was admitted because her baby was way too tiny with many problems from what I understood.  

I tried very hard to get to know her and not pass judgement, but it was difficult for me.  I made the extra effort to teach her to crochet when Mary was busy with someone else, but I couldn’t shake my emotions.  Here I was carrying a baby that was for sure to die after birth, and I did everything right.  My blood sugar was perfect, I ate the best foods, exercised, rested, and drank tons of water.  I went to all of my appointments and prayed for a successful pregnancy.  Then there she was, doing all the wrong things.  She had babies and lost them to the state, and I couldn’t keep mine alive.  As I engaged in conversation with the group, I watched Rynn.  Her blue hair and tattoos moved around so much as she laughed along with her other mannerisms. I got lost in her humility even though her outward appearance was by no means humble.   I appreciated and respected how she openly spoke to smoker mom with absolutely no trepidation, like she was her best friend.  I thought I was a pretty non-judgmental person, but I was annoyingly wrong.  

In that small conference room on the fourth floor, I learned a lot about myself by being mixed in with people I typically wouldn’t meet in my small town.  If I did meet them, I probably would not be in a situation to have any sort of candor.  I put aside my pride and slowly learned how to be more like Rynn.  

One day I was at the secret laundry spot on the eighth floor and Rynn walked in.  She was calm and serious for the first time. As I folded and she sorted, she asked me how I was doing, and I broke down.  I was angry at the other mom, envious of the mom’s that would have live children that would merely have to stay in the NICU a few weeks, and I was lonely.  I was lonely because I was given an opportunity, by God, to be friends with these people and I couldn’t let my guard down completely.  I wasn’t being my person; who I was before this mess.  I was feeling so sorry for myself that I was missing a pure moment of growth.  That blue haired angel hugged me, and I realized I may not be able to get rid of my worry for Naomi, but I could get out of my own way and love those around me, like I would normally do when things weren’t stressful.  I had a choice to feel some joy during my stay, and I chose to do so for the weeks after.  

Love is a choice.  Joy is a choice.  Worry is a choice. Smoking while pregnant is also a choice.  Okay, I may still be a bit bitter about that one. 

Mary made patchwork quilts with blocks that represented her long-stay mothers.  Before my surgery date she presented me with my block. It was a blue and plaid ship.  She said, “We may not know where the ship may sail, but the captain is God, and for that, we have faith.” Teacher mom had her baby boy one night.  He was premature and in the NICU, but did very well.  She was discharged and she left on a positive note.  Smoking mom also delivered prematurely,  but after a short stay in the NICU,  got to take her baby home, or wherever home was that day.  Rynn...well Rynn was still there after I had Naomi.  

I saw my laundry and sewing buddy one afternoon as she was on a walk between the Children’s hospital and the “adult hospital.” I was eating lunch with Luke outside, and enjoying the sunshine after a long day.  It was her birthday and she was wearing a unicorn tiara, and letting everyone know what day it was.  It was a well-timed coincidence. It was so nice to see a familiar face, especially the beaming happy one of Rynn’s.  Her baby was born without c-section and was doing great. Javi hands got her done!  I recall her naming the baby some kind of warrior princess name.  And you know what?  I was genuinely happy for her when I found out.  That was the first time I didn’t compare Naomi’s story to someone else’s out of envy. 

“Jealousy contains more of self-love than of love.”