Our last date as non-parents! Three days from my due date.
No signs of contractions and feeling fine. We were headed to dinner at one of
my favorite places, and as I finished my hair, I just couldn’t get past what I
had been feeling the last few hours. I looked at Webb and said, “Uhm…I feel a
little strange.” I explained the details and he said, “Call the doctor just in
case.”
I expected to hear the nurse say, “This is your first baby,
right? Yeah. Calm down. When you’re in labor, you’ll know (coupled with a totally audible eye roll).” But instead it was, “Come on in to the hospital and let us check you. Better to be safe
on this with what you’re describing.”
I was a little stunned. But we grabbed the hospital bag,
which had sat prepared for weeks, and out the door we went. I was sure they’d
check me and then we’d go on to dinner. It wasn’t until we were halfway to the
hospital that I realized this could be the big shebang. Webb said, “The next time we walk into our home we may be carrying
our son."
"Oh my gosh. You're so right. This could be the real deal..."
And indeed it was! When they hooked me up to the monitor, it
immediately registered strong contractions three minutes apart. But, after an
hour, there was no increase in intensity and one nurse (who I assessed to be
quite experienced) told me, “This is going to take a while. You’ll be best to
go home and weather these contractions until you have to come back.” She was sooo right.
But, my doctor made me stay.
Twenty-seven hours later, Emanuel Luke was born. He was perfect. His little scrunched up face,
furrowed brow, and puckered lips. He was quiet and lovely and as apprehensive
as he should have been, his entire existence changing completely in a matter of
seconds.
I never dilated past three centimeters, and it occurred to
me somewhere about the fifteenth hour of labor that it was likely I wouldn’t be
naturally delivering my son. When our doctor came in one last time, he said,
“Look, I could let you do this for another full day,” (thanks for the
opportunity…), “but you’re going to have a c-section. Today, tomorrow. It’s
happening.”
I chose today. Because, well, you know…labor. I’d had a
couple doses of pain medicine through the night, but an epidural wasn’t
really my thing. (Until they said they said ‘c-section’, then it was totally my thing.)
My mom made it to the hospital in Edenton, North Carolina
from Tucson just four hours before I went to the operating room. So, with much of
our family gathered around, Webb prayed for a safe delivery and a quick
recovery.
My teeth chattered as they prepped me for the surgery, a
combination of cold, nerves, and anticipation. Webb asked our nurse for one
more favor. “Can she take this iPod in with her?”
One of the greatest comforts to me through labor was a
recording of my favorite worship songs that Webb had played on piano. He took
several hours to put it together so I’d have it for the occasion. I loved it and had listened to it the full
last month of my pregnancy. But I was certain they wouldn’t let me take an iPod
into the operating room. I was wrong! And the nurse carried it with her as she
walked me toward the OR.
They got me set up on the table, and my mind raced. “I’m so
upset that this is turning out this way. And! It’s going to be so much more expensive! Why couldn’t
things have just gone ‘normally’?” then the reality of why I was so upset
washed over me, “This is just the first of many things I won’t be able to
control with my kids. I am being gently
(or not so gently) made aware that my plans or hopes won’t always be the path that
my child, or my family, takes. I’ve got to let go…
One thing I wasn’t mentally prepared for was my arms being
restrained. When stretched them out beside me and strapped them down, I
realized it was a significant moment – I had to lay down my plans for, and my
control of, my child right this very minute. I started praying.
I had completely forgotten about the iPod when a nurse held
up an earbud to me. I turned my head and she placed it in my ear and hit play.
The notes of the chorus, “I Surrender All” rang out, and tears streamed. What a perfect moment. What a way to welcome
my boy. With the full knowledge that I will never be enough for him nor will my
plans for his life ever be the best. It
was all to be orchestrated by a much better and totally perfect Conductor.
Emanuel Luke. We call him Luke. Emanuel means, “God with us,”
and Luke means, “Light,”. Our prayer is that Luke will always know the Lord is
with him and that he’ll bring His light wherever he goes.
Emanuel Luke Hoggard
Born at 9:21 PM,
January 31st, 2014
Seven pounds, fourteen
ounces
Twenty and a half inches long
