Two years ago our lives changed in ways, at the time, we never could have imagined. Oliver Davis was born at 7:27pm. He had red hair, chubby cheeks and the ability to melt my heart in an instant. I can remember almost every single detail of the day O was born as if it were last week...
For weeks I had been getting the "make sure your bag is packed because you probably won't make it to next week's check up" speech from my OB. That speech is agonizing. I remember walking around thinking I was like a ticking time bomb. I remember Nathan and I not wanting to go anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary for fear my water might break in the middle of Kroger or something. I mean could you imagine, "Clean up on aisle 12." Oh my word, what a nightmare that would be. But as we were approaching the 40 week mark I felt nothing more happening than growing frustration because I was
so over being pregnant.
December 16, 2010 was a Thursday and it began like most any other day, it was Oliver's due date and Nathan was going into work late because we had, what we hoped to be, our last OB appointment before meeting the child we had already grown to love so much but to which we had never formally been introduced. We got to the doctor's office around 9:30 am and my doctor assured us that it was almost over. Looking back she had such sympathy in her voice probably because I was HUGE. She said if Oliver didn't come on his own we were to report to the hospital the following Monday night to start the labor process by induction, but she also said it wasn't likely that inducing me was going to work and that Tuesday morning she would make the decision to deliver him via c-section. The ultrasound technicians had been watching O's weight closely and were estimating him to be around 9 lbs, but always with the caveat that they could be off by a pound in either direction, meaning there was a possibility that I could have been carring a 10 pound baby. I mean, some people buy Thanksgiving turkeys that weigh less than that. The doctor made it clear to Nathan and I that it was not likely that such a large baby was going to come out of me without surgical intervention - apparently I am just too petite and not built for it.
So we had a plan and as we were leaving my doctor realized she needed to send me to do the 40 week stress test. We were ushered down the hallway and into a room with a big lazy boy and I was instructed to push a button every time O moved, once I was finished my doctor came in and said she didn't like what she saw and asked me if I had eaten anything. I wanted to reply sarcastically, "ummm there is no room left in my body for food, so no I haven't eaten", but I was polite. She sent me out to eat breakfast thinking it would change the results of the test. So after eating something we went back and took the test over again and then they told us we could leave. We were almost to the parking garage when we heard my doctor calling my name and running after us. I looked at Nathan and said, "this can't be good". She told us that the baby was "stressed" and that he would need to be delivered by c-section today." Ya'll, she almost had to pick me up off the floor. I just kept repeating the word "today" over and over again in my head. Oliver had offically outstayed his welcome and he had run out of room (her words not mine). His heart was decelerating because each time he moved he was compressing his umbilical cord. After that brief, but life changing, conversation we were told to go straight to triage where we had to sit and wait for 7 hours all because I had just eaten. They kept close watch on Oliver's heart and were ready to take O if it got worse but wanted to let the food settle so that I wouldn't have any negative reactions to the anesthesia.
Finally the time had come and I was taken to the OR, which has enough material for it's own post, but the thing I remember most vividly is watching a nurse in the corner counting all the medical instruments, while Christmas music was playing in the background. From that moment on I just prayed my way through every single step. I didn't even realize they started when they were telling me that it was time to "push" and by push they meant one doctor kneeling on me pushing on my stomach. And then I heard him. It was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Upon hearing the sound of O's first cry I just remember saying to the Lord "we did it, we actually did it". Nathan went immediately to Oliver's side and I could hear Nathan saying "he has red hair, he has red hair!" Seeing Oliver Davis Hinson for the first time, I believe, is the closest I will ever get this side of heaven to seeing the face of Jesus. It was an amazing day.
And somehow just like that he is 2. He is 2 and can actually carry on a conversation that I can understand (most of the time), he can tell me what he wants for dinner, which most nights is either pizza or noodles, he can spot a bulldozer from a mile away, and best of all he can give me a kiss every night and tell me he loves me. Everyday that Nathan and I have had with Oliver in our lives has been a day full of unspeakable joy. Becoming a mother is a beautiful, God ordained task and one that has seen, and I am sure will continue to see, its ups and downs but I would trade it for nothing.
So, today he turned 2 and he is now peacefully asleep in his bed with a firetruck, an elephant, a book, a bulldozer and a puppy all because that's how 2-year-olds roll.
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| December 16, 2010 December 16, 2011 December 16, 2012 |
"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate." Psalm 127:3-5
-Erin-
