Saturday, June 13, 2015

What I Would Say

The birth of our third little boy is rapidly approaching, and that always causes me to reflect on the previous deliveries of my children. Of course, that reflection quickly moves to Ryan's birth, because it affected all my subsequent pregnancies and deliveries. So many thoughts go through my mind. I'm grateful we're both alive and well, angry for being denied the ability of ever having the birth experience I've dreamed of, devastated that with each subsequent pregnancy my chances for additional babies hangs in the balance, happy that I have two beautiful healthy children with another one weeks away from arriving, and terrified about facing another OR again with all the fear that comes with it.

As I contemplate all of this, combined with an overload of hormones making my feelings only semi-rational, I sit and gaze at my wonderful little son who will turn five a couple weeks after his second baby brother's arrival. I watch him as he peacefully sleeps, and am amazed at how much he's grown. I think back to those first scary days after his birth having no idea whether he would live or die, or whether he'd be able to talk, eat on his own, or write his name. If I think my thoughts are all over the place now, it is nothing compared to how they were during that time. Now, five years later, I've thought about what I would say to that terrified, broken down girl who had her life turned upside down so suddenly. What would I tell her?

Probably something like this.

"Hey, it's me five years down the road. I know, I thought we'd be a little skinnier too, but don't worry, you'll get over that for the most part. First off, everything you're feeling is okay, no matter what it is. That sweet little boy over there? The one they won't let you hold or feed because he's so covered with tubes? He turns five years old in a few weeks, and is extraordinary. He loves sharks and trains, with an additional obsession that changes every six months or so. Currently it's a tie between crocodiles and dinosaurs, specifically the spinosaurus, because it's basically a crocodile dinosaur. I know, it's adorable."

"He's a lefty, and a great big brother. Yep! We have more babies! I'm not going to spoil everything that happens in the next five years for you, but yes, you're going to be able to have more, and they are just as extraordinary. He is very smart. Just today I sat next to him while he read me the book, Pirate Pat. We homeschool, and he's awesome at it, writing his name perfectly on every workbook page."

"It's not always going to be easy, and he has his own weaknesses, but so do you. You're going to butt heads, get frustrated, and wonder if you're doing everything wrong. Trust your instincts, trust your Heavenly Father, and trust your husband. He is an amazing father, even better than you dreamed. You will work through the hard days together, and there will be hard days. Remember that Ryan is exactly whom Heavenly Father chose to send to you, along with all his gifts and struggles. You will discover more each day how beautifully he fits into the family, and you will love him all the more for it."

"Also, you may not believe me right now, but he's going to be just fine. Everything those scans show, and all the risk factors all the doctors keep throwing at you that feel like knives in your heart, just let them all go. Have faith, not fear. Ryan will be fine. I promise. Miracles happen. You of all people should know that by now."

"Over the next five years, be kind to yourself. You'll have a lot on your plate both physically and mentally. Learn to let things go, stop worrying about meeting everyone else's approval, and pour all your worries and concerns into prayer. I'm just a little further down the road, and we're not perfect, but trust me, you get through this, one step at a time, and you'll do it a lot faster if you stop worrying how everyone else feels about what you're doing. You've got this."

Of course I realize I wouldn't have learned the same lessons the same way if I could have glimpsed into the future, but it sure would be nice to give myself a hug and tell five years ago Katie everything will be okay. I know right now I'd love for five years further down the road Katie to give me a hug and tell me everything's going to be okay with this delivery, too, but that's a different story, and a different speech I'll post five years from now. Here's to then, and here's to now, taking things one day and one step at a time.