Blessings

I guess you are never too old for miracles. I learned that lesson the day I gave birth to my daughter at the age of forty. I never thought that God would bless me with a little girl. I have two sons, and at the time life seemed pretty complete. My husband and I were raising a sixteen year old and a thirteen year old and enjoying them. We were dealing with the teenage years and all the joys and trials that go with these years. Overall, however, life was becoming easier, no stinky diapers to change, no midnight feedings, no potty training, or running after toddlers. Instead, our daily sayings were pick your clothes up off the floor, get your homework done, be respectful, ect. Yes, that was our life.
When I found out that I was pregnant, I must say that it was a surprise, but it was a happy surprise. We were all thrilled, but it was a slight shock for my thirteen year old. When I told him the news, we were all out at lunch. My youngest son is a food disposal and will eat anything. On that day, he could not eat a bite of his big chicken salad sandwich. He told me later that I should have told him after he had finished his sandwich. I guess it is all in the timing. Anyway, after the news sunk in, we started our nine month journey. The days were filled with morning sickness, water retention, cravings, hemorrhoids, and feeling like Bertha, the 200 pound whale. It was also filled with great joy and anticipation. We got the baby's room painted and decorated. We reacquainted ourselves with all the baby books and started to fall in love with our baby that was quickly growing inside of me. With every kick and motion from our little one, we felt closer to her, and we knew that again God had given us a great gift. All the physical trials could be endured and would be forgotten, the minute our baby arrived. We never found out the sex of the baby. We just wanted to be surprised. We anticipated another boy because boys run in both of our families. The risk of having a baby with Down Syndrome was greater because of my age, but I did not get an AFP test done.
We did have a sonogram, however. We just figured that whatever baby God gave us would be special and was meant just for our family.
The day of our baby's birth was scary and wonderful all wrapped in one. As the contractions began, so did the anticipation and excitement. Both my parents and my husbands parents were visiting. So, I had a big support group. I'll never forget my dad timing the contractions. He was so funny. He was getting nervous. He wanted us to go to the hospital right away. I explained to him that I must take a shower before I go. He did not like this idea but lovingly accepted it. When I got in the shower, it hit me that I was going to give birth shortly. It had been thirteen years since giving birth to my son. I was nervous and thinking the worse. When I got out of the shower, there was my mom, waiting for me with the towel. I looked at her and began to cry. Here I am at 40 years old, and I am still leaning on my mom. She wrapped the towel around me and told me that I looked beautiful and that everything would be alright. Through all the years, I have always loved my mom, but I never felt as close to her as I did at that moment. She can always make things brighter even when the burden seems too heavy to handle.
When we got to the hospital, my husband and I settled in and got ready. We believed that the birth would be easy and not too complicated because I was healthy, and the last birth of my son was very easy. The only problem was that my blood pressure was high on this day. Everything was going along smoothly, My husband was standing by my side and a better coach I could not have. My boys were awesome and would visit me and give me words of encouragement, even though they felt uncomfortable in the birthing room, and our parents were keeping vigil with prayers. I did not take any pain medicine because we all believed, including the doctor, that the birth would be quick and easy, but our daughter had other ideas. When I started pushing, our baby girl moved her head slightly and was stuck. I would push and nothing would happen. I can see now why people in the past would bite down on a piece of wood when having difficult medical procedures done. I think I would have bitten right through the wood if I had it. Anyway, back to the story. After some time of pushing, we all agreed that the baby was not coming and was getting very tired. The scariest part was hearing the baby's heart rate go down after each contraction. The doctor decided that we must do a c-section.
In the operating room, our baby came into the world, When she arrived she did not have a heartbeat; so, of course she did not cry. I became very nervous, but the wonderful nurses and doctors worked on her, and by the Grace of God, my little girl came upon the earth. They placed her on my chest for only a brief moment. She could not cry but made small whimpering sounds. She was so beautiful. The tears filled our eyes. She had a head of black hair, and she looked at me with such innocence and love. She had some fluid in her lungs, but she was going to be okay. They kept her in the neonatal intensive care unit for the night. So, that night, my husband kept going from my room to our baby's room, checking on the both of us. The next morning we were all reunited and our family was now complete. Our baby girl, Mary, was born. She is now seven months old and is the joy of all of our lives.
Would I change this story at all? No, not at all. The blessings far out weigh the trials. Do I believe in miracles. Absolutely, Every time I look into my baby's eyes, I see God's love and I know that miracles can happen even at the age of 40.