My pregnancy had been uneventful, except for the refusal of care by our local ob offices. I located a nurse-midwife program in Iowa City and was able to finish care there. I faced the usual battery of quizzes and proposed tests that come with medical care and pregnancy. I was used to it by now...
But what scared me was the realization I kept confronting, that I was not in control. This precious little life that I wanted and prayed so much for, was not in my control. I could not guarantee his safety. I could only love him, care for him and enjoy every moment with him. He was in God's hands and only God knew His plans for this little one.
Early labor started at lunch on Saturday and did almost nothing until Monday afternoon. Sitting on the couch in tears, just wanting to hold my little one, my mom and mother-in-law praying over me and little guy, I finally gave up. Fine God, Your will, Your timing, not mine! ...moments later contractions started, steadily increasing until just before 1am Tuesday, little baby Boy A made his arrival. Crying and squirming and full of life!
I chose to cut his cord myself and spent most of the night just holding him, caressing his face, talking to him and crying. I have very precious memories of his delivery, with both aunties assisting and brother and sister falling asleep in the living room and waking them up just in time to meet their brother! Oh, yes, and I thought he was a girl, so I was concerned for J and R when they came running through the house repeating the line from "Lady and the Tramp" "it's a boy! it's a boy!". Aunt Elise helped them sing the lullaby "lalalu". And Uncle Grr not going home until he got to meet his newest little nephew....
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