This is Your plan for me?

I haven't written about baby Cooper's arrival yet because it was a little chaotic. When the baby was born the other three children decided to pass the stomach bug around to each other. My poor husband would have to leave me at the hospital in Bossier, drive to south Shreveport to check on the baby, then drive to mid Shreveport to check on the sick kids at home. It was crazy. Anyway, I realized I haven't really shared his little birth story so let me start at the beginning....

Stephen Ryan was born on March 29th. He had to be delivered two weeks early because I started developing pre-eclampsia. Now two weeks early really isn't early. He was considered full-term and everybody thought he should be fine. Turns out when he got here he was having some "labored breathing," and they decided he needed to be transferred to the NICU which was completely across town from me. They wheeled him into my room right before they took him to the ambulance. I got to see my precious baby boy for almost ten minutes. He was (and still is) perfect to me. Those little fingers wrapped around my finger, and I promise his breathing slightly eased. He even looked peaceful while holding tight to my finger. Soon they came to wheel him back out and just like that he was away from me. It would be two days in the hospital for me before I could see him again. The whole time I was praying for them not to intubate him because in my mind I thought if they did that then it would be at least two weeks before he was home. I finally got to get out of the hospital. (The doctor let me out a little early because she walked in just as I was having a complete pity party and I think she joined in on the party train.) Daddy, Zach, and I drove over to the other hospital in a terrible storm. I mean it was awful. We could not see two feet in front of us. I thought daddy was going to have to pull over, but he kept driving because he wanted to get me there as bad as I wanted to be there. It was hailing and wind gust were rocking the car. When we finally made it,  I walked in to see my baby and my heart broke. I was filled with excitement until I laid my eyes on my precious baby. He was laying there in only a diaper with tubes coming from his nose and his whole entire chest was caving in with each breath he took. It looked like so much work. I felt weak because for two days I had been praying that they wouldn't intubate him because I wanted him home with me. Two whole days of breaths that made his stomach look like a crushed can. I looked at Zach and wanted so bad for him to tell me that it didn't hurt our baby. That it didn't wear him out to simply take a breath. When I looked at Zachary, I saw a daddy that would've done anything to take a breath for that baby. There he stood completely helpless just as I was completely and utterly helpless. I quickly told the nurse to let the doctor know that I wanted my baby comfortable. Please, please let him get some rest.  Anybody that has ever had the experience of a trip to the Nicu will tell you that every procedure or task takes a whole 24 hours and a set back can cost you two more days. It can be exhausting.  He spent 9 days in the hospital before Zach decided enough was enough and they were giving us our child!  (That was a little less time than our other three babies which was wonderful!)

 Before Stephen was born, I prayed so earnestly that I would get to hold my baby on the day he was born. That I would have that experience of skin to skin in the hospital room. (By the way, you will not believe how annoying those posters are that tell you the benefits of skin to skin. The only thing I was skin to skin with was the breast pump, and every time I turned around on every pamplet and every hallway and every door there was a picture of this woman holding her baby next to her with bold letters about the importance of bonding with your child. Look, I would love to be skin to skin with my baby you moron, but they won't let me. I can't even touch his brow too much because it might excite him. So just take your little poster and......) I wanted to nurse my baby without ever needing a pump. I wanted Zach to change the first diaper. I wanted Zach to walk out with him like every proud daddy should get to do.  I wanted that memory. I've wanted that since I was a young girl, but that wasn't in the cards for me. What is amazing is I don't really feel slighted. The experiences I've had are my memories. The tears shed over an open bed. The sound of monitors beeping while I examine every long finger and the point of every nose.   Washing pump parts every three hours around the clock. Those are my memories. I met each one of my babies for the first time while they were as sick as they've ever been. I've changed diapers with Nicu nurses looking over my shoulder. I've waited patiently for the nurse to ask me if I want to hold my baby. Those are my memories and
I'm so incredibly thankful that in three other bedrooms of this house I have four beautiful healthy babies sound asleep. They are getting all rested up for a day of playing with toys, changing diapers, kisses and hugs, fights and spilled messes. That is to say this mommy probably better get some sleep too.

Count your blessings my devoted readers. Your blessing may not look like what you had planned and may not look like everyone else's, but they are apart of your special journey.

Stronger

About five minutes after leaving a wonderful worship service and feeling all "filled" up, I found myself at a red light in ole Busty the van (Lee named our van  Buster because it is so busted up...) dealing with craziness! I was yelling at Lee for ruining his brand new white Polo shirt by coloring on it with a hot pink sharpie.  (I was so excited when I bought those stupid neon Sharpies and nothing good has come from them. Nothing. Not one good thing...) Kate was in the back of Busty crying because Wade had her paper from Sunday School. It was a plain white piece of computer paper with a few purple scribbles on it, but to her it was an autographed copy of O magazine. (I don't know why I chose O Magazine except that if Oprah had signed it then it would be worth a whole bunch. Right?) Well, anyway Wade had her paper and she was screaming her head off. Wade was sitting across from her and basically taunting her, waving the paper around in flag like motion. Wade was mad because he didn't get to explore the new church enough. I would've  stayed longer at church but when I caught Wade climbing the window panes like they were a ladder, I decided it was time to go. Therefor Wade was mad at all of us, and the only one he could reach, mentally and physically, was Kate. He also started pinching her so I took a break from yelling at Lee about his white shirt to yell at Wade about being just down right mean to his sister. At this moment in my life, I was yelling, Lee was crying because he was convinced it was actually Wade's fought that he got the sharpie out and drew on himself. (Ummmm, no son.) Kate was crying because she was being attacked in the backseat, Wade was crying because he hated all of us for existing, and Baby Stephen was......(Well, baby was happy to be with us. What must he think of his life! I WAS wondering why he wasn't crying because it was time for him to nurse.)I turned the music back up on my radio to drown out the madness when I heard Mandisa singing "Stronger." I had to smile because it is amazing to me how just when I think life is crazy and I can't do it, God shows me that these little moment are only one small piece of a much larger puzzle. That if I just continue on one day we will look back and smile. I just hope and pray my children remember me smiling and not completely losing it at red lights! Here are the lyrics to the chorus of the song that brought me back to reality and here are some scriptures that have been on my mind lately:


Stronger

When the waves are taking you under
Hold on just a little bit longer
He knows that this is gonna make you stronger, stronger
The pain ain't gonna last forever
And things can only get better
Believe me,
This is gonna make you stronger, stronger


Luke 6:46-49
"Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say? I will show 
you what he is like who 
comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like 
a man building a house,
 who dug down deep and laid his foundation on rock. When a flood came,
 the torrent struck that 
house but could not shake it, because it was well built." 

Luke 12:32
"Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give 
you the kingdom."