But despite the joy in this day, for me it isn't just about cake and presents and parties. There is guilt with admitting this, but today marks the anniversary of the most difficult day of my life. It was not a beautiful, happy birth story. It was scary, it was emotional, it was uncertain. Nothing went as planned. I awoke in the wee hours of the morning on February 18 to discover something was terribly wrong. It was a morning of panic as we rushed to the hospital in shock, afraid of what was to come. There was no calm preparation, waiting for labor to progress- it was a swarm of doctors and nurses all over me, whispering to each other as they hurried me into the operating room. All of my birth plans were thrown out the window as my baby girl entered the world within an hour.
Fear engulfed me as I waited on the other side of that curtain, my mind somehow separated from the rest of my body as surgery progressed. The anxiety and anticipation were more than I could bear- we knew Harper had brain issues, but didn't know what to expect to see or hear when she arrived. Would she breathe on her own? Would she cry at all? Would her head be grossly enlarged due to her hydrocephalus? How small would she be? So many questions and fears, and all we could do was wait, pray, and trust the One who created her.
And in an instant hope flooded over me... the tension in the room was cut by a loud, strong cry, the cry of a fighter. I cried in my confusion- could that be her? Could she be healthy enough to sound so normal? I asked if that was my baby making that noise, and they laughed and said, "Yes!" My joy overflowed at the hope my God had provided. She was strong and healthy despite her brain concerns, a whopping 8 lbs 3 oz, scoring 9/9 on her initial Apgar scores. And she was beautiful- perfectly proportioned with a head full of black hair, gorgeous skin, and dark eyes.
Despite those hopes, the joy was stolen away as she had to be quickly removed from the room for testing. I didn't see her again for hours, and then only briefly as we prepared to turn her over to the Duke Life Flight team. I handed my newborn over to strangers, who placed her in a box on a stretcher, wheeled her onto a helicopter, and flew her away to an unknown future, hours away from her mommy.
I heard the helicopter take off, carrying my precious cargo away... to this day, the sound of a helicopter stops my heart. I had to let her go, not knowing if I would get to see her alive and well again. I had no idea what awaited her, or how long it would be until we were together again. Nothing I have ever faced in my life has been as difficult as that moment. There is something very unnatural about being separated from your child at birth, and it was a very dark place to settle in. They wheeled me back to my room in the women's unit, not even in the mother-baby unit. I felt different and alone. My baby was not with me, and I was more or less recovering from surgery rather than childbirth. I was blessed by friends and family and an incredible healthcare staff, and of course knowing that God would work good, but it was an excruciating experience that haunts me still. It was just the first day of many hard, wearisome days.
God had great plans through the whole experience, and He carried us on an unbelievable journey in the months that followed. It was a painful, faith-testing, heart-wrenching, not-fun-at-all journey, but one in which He showed Himself in great and mighty ways. The emotions of it all are still overwhelming, and today as we celebrate the miracle of Harper's first birthday, it will be a day of reflecting and processing not just the joyful emotions, but also those painful ones. We have already had our big celebration with the world, so today will be a day for this mommy to cherish her baby, to love on her and hold her and thank God for her... to savor those moments that I didn't get to have one year ago, but that God has so graciously allowed me to have now.
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