We almost lost him. Twice.
1. Seth and I had been married for only a few month when we discovered we were pregnant with our first child together. We were elated and a bit terrified at the same time. Was our family ready to add a new one to the mix?
The first two months came and went fairly quickly as I became reacquainted with pregnancy after five years of dormancy. It essentially felt like my first all over again. Despite the emergence of constant nausea, every little bit of it was exciting. Perhaps more than the happiness of having another baby, I was giddy at the thought that in a few short months this amazing man of mine would get to be the daddy of his very own little munchkin.
And then one morning after my workout, I saw it. At first I ignored it and got it the shower. But it persisted, becoming impossible to ignore or stop.
I had heard about this process before, and all physical indications confirmed what was happening. The bleeding was heavy, the cramping strong.
Up to this point I hadn’t really connected with the growing life inside my body, but suddenly the thought of its absence was too hard to bear. I was heartbroken.
I called Seth at work. Hearing few words through my sobs and sniffles, he immediately began his 25 minute drive home.
I called a nearby aunt (whose kindness will never be forgotten) who within minutes was in my bedroom with me.
The drive to the doctor’s office with my husband was silent, and unbearably long. We sat only briefly in the waiting room before my name was called. Hope was the furthest thing from my mind. I wouldn’t be looking at the screen.
The nurse was kind and strangely friendly. I didn’t feel like being deluded with comforting or happy words.
Cold on my tummy, then an image appeared in my periphery. There were more soothing tones from the nurse, tones that soon turned unexpectedly elevated. I turned to the monitor to hear her say, “And there’s the heart, fluttering away!”
I couldn’t believe it! He was fine! No loss, no vanishment. Just life!
Words are inadequate to describe the relief and joy we felt in that moment. Tears were all that could form as we reveled in this new revelation. The doctor came in and gave us some kind medical explanation that really didn’t matter all that much. All we cared about was that our baby would still be coming to our family, to our arms.
2. Every mom knows what a difference a few unwatched minutes can make. If she doesn’t yet, then she perhaps has only begun her journey of motherhood. I used to be one such mother, quick to judge the Wal-mart mom who frantically searched the aisles for her latest escapee. “Sheesh. Boy am I glad I’ll never be so distracted that I lose my own child,” I would sanctimoniously think to myself. Oh, how we change! And what a blessing that change is, and how necessary.
We can try all the locks, dead bolts, and door blocades we can think of, but some wanderers still find a way out in those few unattended minutes. Such was the case, ironically on the afternoon of our anniversary about six weeks ago, for our resident runner. But this time, and for the first time, he was no where to be found. After about two minutes of controlled calling throughout the house, yard, and street, my calls grew more urgent. And then frantic. Each non-response after that was filled with fear and utter panic as my heart raced and my mind went to scary places like kidnapping and car smashing. My cool headed eldest immediately took action, calling my husband and assessing the needs of the moment. My shouts had woken the baby, so Talmage calmed and held him while instructing my other son who was just coming home from a piano lesson to begin his search. Kind neighbors who were outside began searching as well, and a desperate call to a dear friend yielded more help. How thankful I was in that moment for women who were not judgemental. I knew in those few minutes that my little boy was thiers as well, as they drove up and down streets, combed nearby fields and empty lots, and notified neighbors on Facebook.
I don’t know how much time actually passed in our search, but it felt like an eternity until my phone finally rang. “He’s found. We found him, he’s okay,” my sweet neighbor announced with relief in her voice.
No U-turn has ever been made more adroitly than the one I performed right then. That old Odysee rivaled any 911 Turbo on that drive back. And that little boy has never been embraced tighter or longer in his three-year-old life. I didn’t let him go for an hour.
Our final birthday boy of the season is our sweet Emery.
When he was born, he stunned the nurses with his handsomeness. It was his hair! It was just too much to handle.
He was the cutest little hedgehog that ever was born, and he has sufficiently poked every inch of our souls since.
( Things quickly turned serious when this package was opened. “Uhhh…I think I like things as they are, thanks. I’ll pass.” )
Emery has an innocence and sincerity of heart that is incomparable, a constant reminder to his family of how we should strive to be. He is ever accepting and has an innate love for people that is deep and effortless. Everybody he meets is his friend by default, his loyalty is automatic. Even his toys become friends upon first use.
He is by far my most imaginative child, with a proclivity to assign roles and dialogue to most every toy, task, or situation before him. Inanimate, unaffecting objects become purposeful and exciting subjects of grandiose tales.
Emery is happy, smart, thoughtful, witty, creative, and kind. But most of all, he is completely and utterly irreplaceable.
How we love this little one.
<3
Such a cutie! Can’t wait to see him soon!