Join Me On the Journey

It’s my baby’s birthday today. She is two. I am officially “babyless.”The story of my little Mariah is nothing short of a miracle. Everything was going very well in my pregnancy when I went in for my ob visit that day–or so I thought. Since I have high blood pressure, my doctor decided to order an ultrasound to obtain a baseline weight measurement. Women who have high blood pressure sometimes have problems causing the baby not to grow well so her weight would need to be closely watched.

I could tell from the way the ultrasound tech was acting that something was not right, but I was unprepared for what the doctor told me a few minutes later. She told us that the baby wasn’t getting good blood flow through the umbilical cord. It was a very unusual problem and they wanted to transfer us to Rochester, Minnesota. The other option was to deliver Mariah via C-section…that day. There was no guarantee that she would survive another 24 hours in my uterus.

Now, being a doctor can have its disadvantages. Sometimes, knowing so much is not helpful. I knew the implications of what they were saying. If the baby had not been getting good blood flow, she had most likely been denied proper nutrition, perhaps even proper oxygenation. She was already a pound underweight for her age. I was really scared that there had already been permanent brain damage. My husband and I had just a few hours to make the decision of whether to transfer to a tertiary care center, deliver a baby immediately, or continue with the pregnancy and take our chances.

We opted for the C-section. (They didn’t think that she would handle the stress of an attempted vaginal delivery.)

I was so scared. I cannot even express how scared I was. In fact, just writing about it now is bringing those emotions to the surface, and it still doesn’t feel very good! I tried to pray, but I just wasn’t in a good place in my walk at that time in my life. I praise God that I have since sought Him and I am walking so much closer to Him. I sometimes wonder how I would have handled that situation if I had been closer to God at the time.

So, my little Mimi was born two years ago today; a two pound scrawny little thing who came out screaming. I’m not sure whether she was screaming at the injustice of being ripped out of a warm, quiet, dark, protective environment; or whether she was screaming, “Thank goodness! I was starving in there!”

Today, as I finish this post, she’s sitting on my lap sucking down goat’s milk from her sippy cup. (I milk goats.) She appears to be no worse for the wear despite her rocky beginning. She’s pretty small for her age, but one of my other daughters is also very petite. (They get that from their father’s side of the house, LOL.) She’s definitely two. In fact, she started with “the terrible twos” about a month ago, and my son (who will be three in a month) decided that he had obviously missed something, so he joined her.

My God is so good! He is so faithful! I praise Him for protecting her and I am so thankful that she’s a part of my family.

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