Saturday, July 21, 2012

New Life in Long Hand

A community of in its own. A small room overcrowded. Children sleeping on the floor. Noise. Motion. Laughter and excitement. Some trying to catch a moments rest. Worry and concern sitting along side us. It is the maternity waiting room. It is a place of life and once in awhile death.

I left work on Saturday at 11am then headed over to spend time with my grandpup Millie. Only a couple of hours later my son and Lisa headed to the hospital. She was at thirty-six weeks in this pregnancy with twins. I explained to Millie what was going on then tucked her into her kennel and made my way to the hospital as well.

Lisa had developed preeclampsia and was at risk. Our hours at the hospital dragged on. My son begged us to go home. But there was no way that he was going to keep these mothers from waiting alongside their children. The labor went on and on. Decisions were made then changed. Lisa's body was fighting a battle. On Sunday night, they took her off all meds. We finally went home to sleep.

Monday was more of the same. By now the fear of major complications was settling in. Yet this little community in the waiting room continued to thrive. By now we knew many of the people and their situations. A ten pound boy had been born. A couple came back to visit their one pound baby in the NICU. One mother was in surgery. Everyone had shared their stories. We were a page in time with new life written in long hand.

A little after midnight on Monday sweet Emma emerged. She was rushed away from her mom and dad and intubated. Nolan came right behind her and was placed on his mother. Soon Emma was placed in her father's arms. James texted us to tell us the news. We knew we would have a long wait still to come while the new little family got acquainted. Lisa was still a concern.

Yesterday the little family came home. Poor Millie had been hurt at doggie day care and had new stitches in her ear. She was drugged when she met the twins, so we were not if she knew she had company. Lisa was healing well. The long time of waiting had ended and two lovely children had come home to be part of our family.

The crowded waiting room still hustles and bustles with joy and pain. The stories continue. The waiting and anticipation goes on. I can't forget those hours and stories. I can't forget those people who for a few day shared a life together.

Truly we live coming and going in small islands of life. Sometimes we bring a bit of it home. It is life written in long hand.

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