Eight Years Later: A Reflection on the Birth of My Oldest

Looking back on Everett’s birth I can see God in every detail. I can see His provision through every moment.

When Everett was born, he was born two months prematurely, an unexpected occurrence that set us on an altogether different path into parenthood than we could have ever imagined.

What was an otherwise healthy pregnancy, quickly unraveled in the very early hours of the morning on December 13, 2015.

And I should have been alone that night.

My husband, working at the time for a friend at least two hours away from me, was supposed to have gone back the day before Everett was unexpectedly born. But something held him back and he chose to stay another night with me.

In God’s sovereignty, He held him there to be with me and drive me to the hospital, a drive I would have barely been able to make given that by the time we reached the city limits where the hospital was, I was barely able to breathe through my contractions.

Once Everett was born via emergency c-section, it was quickly decided he would be sent to the nearest hospital with a NICU, three hours away from where I laid in my hospital bed, post-surgery.

Unable to leave, Everett and my husband, Craig, left with the Life Flight crew and I stayed behind, grappling with all that had just happened.

After arriving at the hospital, just hours before, I was examined and the nurse explained that she could feel my baby’s foot, not his head, in the birth canal. They began prepping me for a c-section but soon after, I began to feel the distinct urges to push and instead, they quickly wheeled me off into the operating room, leaving my fearful husband behind at the doors, his eyes being one of the last things I saw before they rushed me into anesthesia.

When I woke up, my body feeling completely foreign as my womb, now empty, felt filled with fire and pain from all that I had just endured while on the operating table, I was surrounded by nurses helping me wake up.

My midwife, who had assisted in the surgery, urged me to sit up and wake up so that I could see my baby before he left on his very first flight.

My husband came in and seeing him brought me incredible comfort. I was not alone.

And then my son came in and our first meeting was nothing as I had ever hoped for. There was no skin-to-skin contact, no cuddles, no first meeting moments, something that every mother dreams of. Instead, there were wires, tubes and a giant Plexi-glass bubble separating us.

It was grief for all that we had just lost and would never regain that I felt.

We had but a few moments and then they were gone.

The once busy room was now a ghost-town, except for one nurse that had stayed in the room.

My heart broken in two, my body empty and hurting, tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. My baby was gone, my husband was gone, and I was all alone, devastated beyond belief.

The nurse rushed to my side and without a word, held me to her chest as if I was her own, soothing my sobs.

Once I was in my room, I asked for my phone and sent a quick text to my parents, who had been notified immediately, before Craig and I even left for the hospital and were well on their way, making the four-hour trek as swiftly as possible.

The now familiar loneliness began to creep in again but within moments the door to my room swung open and in swept my parents, arms wide with hugs and tears of their own.

By miracles, I was able to leave the hospital where I had Everett and make the three-hour car ride to the NICU, not even 48 hours after undergoing surgery.

Once reunited I was able to hold him for a while and I would spend the next thirty days visiting him in the NICU, typically from 7am to 7pm, holding him for just an hour each day. I would pump every two to three hours, often waking in the middle of the night to hook up my cold breast pumps and cry silent tears as I wished for my baby, instead.

But we made it through. We brought him home exactly one month later, on January 13, 2016.

Looking back on it all, God worked miracles every step of the way, from His provision over us that first night to the financial support we received from family, friends, and strangers. On this side of heaven, I will never know all that He did to protect and provide for us all.

Maybe someday, when I am in the presence of my Heavenly Father, He will peel back the curtain and allow me to see all that transpired behind the scenes to keep us in good care, tending to us as the loving Father that He is.

For the last eight years I have marveled at my son, at how he seemed destined to show up earlier than anticipated. He quickly caught up and then surpassed milestones before our eyes.

He is inquisitive, smart, thoughtful, kind, funny, imaginative, responsible, and nurturing. Being a big brother suits him so well and it often brings out the best in him. He is so loving with his siblings and is incredibly understanding and compassionated towards all of Jack’s delays and needs.

I cannot believe that I once worried about the bond that I might have with my baby, considering we did not start our relationship the way I had hoped. But the Lord redeemed it all.

Through my trust in Him, all that felt lost has been found and all that felt broken has been made new.

Thank you, God, for giving me Everett. I count every moment with him as a blessing.