Every week I attend (with the husband who is usually running late from a lacrosse package) child birthing classes. These are generally very interesting and enjoyable. This week the nurse took us on a tour of the maternity wing of the hospital to show us all the good stuff they have there (by the way, my hospital kicks as for ob stuff; 99% of babies who check into NICU check out alive - it is ranked #1 in the west for baby stuff and is in the top ten nationally - so they have good stuff). She shows us a delivery room. Which, and this is where I brush with my own sad history, is the exact room where I delivered Mary (my stillborn child from almost two years ago).
I stood there. Looking at the room in which the most momentous emotional event in my life happened. It was so different from my own memories. So sterile looking. And I thought, the last time I interacted with my baby was in this room. In many ways it was sad and in many ways I felt stronger for it. My little guardian angel began her watch over me in this room and I could feel that she was there with me then as well. I may request to not have that room on delivery date for this baby as I'm not sure she deserves to have all that emotion wrapped up in her birth day, I mean, she should have her own emotional reaction from her parents. But I know that my little angel will be with me and then with this little girl for the rest of her life as well.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I cannot think of anything to say, except I wish I had been home when you called today... and yes, she was there. I'm sure of it.
Aw, sweetie ....
Post a Comment