Because He Lives- Henry Fisher.

So many times a day, I look at my son laying in his baby hospital bed in the NICU and wonder to myself, how did we get here? Wasn't I just pregnant a few days ago with a baby safe and sound inside of me? Many of you who knew we were planning a home birth might be thinking the same thing. NICU? Hospital? How did this all happen?

Being 42 weeks pregnant, it was necessary to be induced because of certain state regulations. To be honest, I was beyond ready to meet this baby, so the thought of induction didn't worry me a bit! We checked into the hospital Tuesday morning, and sweet Henry was born Wednesday night. It was a long, hard labor, but holding that baby on my chest and hearing his first tiny, squeaky cry made it all worth it.

The next 24 hours seemed to be a giant spiral of bad news and worry. Henry had low blood sugar. He wasn't eating well. His muscle tone was poor. The nurses came in every two hours with updates like this until the last one came early on Thursday: a helicopter is coming to take him to the NICU at a different hospital. As James and I waited to be discharged, we hit our breaking point. We started questioning everything we'd done up to this point. What did we do wrong? What should we have changed?

Now, it's 1 am Saturday morning and James and I are hunkered down into our reclining chairs in Henry's hospital room. This has been the most encouraging day of progress so far. Henry has been eating and regulating his own blood sugar which allowed him to be taken off of the IV line that was put in through his umbilical cord. We've been visited by friends and family and so many have been praying for us and giving us encouragement. But there still lingers that feeling of sadness as I wonder how this all  happened and what part I played in it all.

It's now that I'm reminded of a blog post I was going to write after Henry was born. I planned it all out almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant. It was going to be full of happiness and perfection as I wrote about how sweet it was to have a great, easy labor at home and be able to hold my perfectly healthy son as I typed in my living room the very next day. It was going to be a post based on the  old song, Because He Lives. As I've been thinking about that song while tearing up in this recliner, I've realized that song is much more appropriate for this post.

"How sweet to hold a newborn baby and feel the pride and joy he gives. But sweeter still the calm assurance this child can face uncertain days because He lives."

This verse would not have felt so real and encouraging in the "perfect" post I had imagined writing. Only in this scenario, this real-life moment, could I so deeply understand the truth in those words. These past few days have, indeed been uncertain. The next few are sure to be as well. But, it the midst of this doubt, worry and chaos, Jesus lives. And because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Fear is gone, because I know He holds the future. And that is exactly what makes these hard, scary, heavy-hearted moments worth living. He lives.

A dear friend encouraged us by pointing out that these early moments are part of Henry's testimony. I pray that God would use this testimony in amazing ways, and that many would come to understand the worth of living life because of a Savior that has risen from the dead, and who offers hope in life by His merciful death.

Waiting - And Waiting

Well, our due date has come and gone, and our little baby is still snuggled up inside. I'm not exactly surprised by this. Most of the first-timers I know have been 1-2 weeks late with their babies, so that's basically what I've been expecting. Until a few days ago, I was prepared to meet our son at least a full week (or more) after his due date.

Monday night, however, I started having contractions. They were light, and irregular, but definitely there! I timed a few before I told James, not wanting to give him a false alarm. 3-5 minutes apart, lasting 30 seconds to 1 minute! If there was ever a night we couldn't sleep, that was it! James and I finally decided to just get out of bed at 5:45 and go for a walk, hoping that would speed things up. I had timed almost 200 contractions throughout the day when our midwife decided to come and check things out for herself. Apparently, there's this thing called prodromal labor. Not Braxton Hick's, but not really labor either, just... labor that's not labor. The upside is that those contractions help toward real labor (maybe even making the real thing faster...?), but the downside is that after almost a full 24 hours of contractions, we still have no baby! Gonna be honest here, I definitely cried after our midwife left. I've never been more disappointed in my life!

The next day, James and I basically did everything we could to naturally induce labor. We had been so close just the day before, he just needed a little push, right? It was near the end of the day that we realized something: we've been doing everything we could think of, everything we've heard would work, and this kid still wouldn't budge. Could it mean that his time just wasn't here yet? Did we really have to start believing what we've been saying these past nine months and trust God and His timing? The answer, of course, was quite obvious.

As anxious as we are to meet our little baby, that little prodromal diversion made me realize how sweet that moment really will be. For now, we'll keep waiting. We'll continue to cherish the kicks, the rubbing of this giant belly, and knowing that everything will come exactly when it needs to, according to God's perfect plan for our dear little son's life! See you soon, you little cutie.