May
1
He’s So Little; I’m So Afraid.
Filed by Becky Albrecht Under Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
In late April, 1991, we were expecting our seventh child. By the end of the month, we knew that the time was near.
On April 30, my friend Lisa N. came for lunch. She offered to stay with our six children while Tom and I went to my obstetrician appointment. I sat in the doctor’s office, and timed contractions. They occurred about every 10 minutes.
Dr. B’s office was packed. He had been away the week before. When he saw me, he said, “Oh, you waited, that’s good!”
When the doctor examined me, he said that I was 3 to 4 centimeters dilated. He said that I could go to the hospital, or I could go home and “let nature take it’s course.” The nurse at the doctor’s office said that I should go to the hospital. “You don’t want Tom to deliver this baby,” she said.
Instead of going to the hospital, we went to the mall. It gave me an opportunity to walk around. We had dinner at Arby’s. Then we drove down to the hospital. The contractions were pretty hard, but still 10 to 20 minutes apart. “Let’s go home,” I said. We went into the hospital, and told them that we were not coming in just yet.
We arrived home around 7 PM. I smelled pine cleaner, and heard children in the bathroom. Really clean kids, huh?
Lisa had bathed the children, and had also cleaned the kitchen floor.
“I am not sure what we are doing,” I said.
“Do you want me to stay over night?” she asked.
Lisa went to her weekly Bible Study. Another friend stopped by, and together we timed my contractions. By 9:44 PM, the contractions were closer together, Lisa came back to stay overnight, and Tom and I left for the hospital.
When they checked me, I was about 5 centimeters dilated. They put me on heartbeat/contraction monitors. Not very comfortable; but I’m glad they did. The baby’s heartbeat began to go down with each contraction. The nurse came in and gave me an oxygen mask, and tried to give me an I.V. Ouch! She couldn’t get it in. Dr. B. came in shortly thereafter. He said, “We have to get this one out quick.” Push—Push—Push. He’s out. The baby had had a prolapsed cord. With each contraction, he was squishing the umbilical cord.
Tom held him. I held him. I tried to nurse him, but he wasn’t ready. I thought, “That’s OK.” We oogled over him for quite a while. The obstetrician left.
The nurse then asked us if we were ready to have him cleaned and weighed. “OK,” I said.
When she came back, she stated: “You are not going to believe this – he weighs 3 pounds, 14 ounces.” Since he was so small, they put him in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.
Tom stayed with me till I got settled into a room. It was about 2 AM. We both cried. How frightened and worried I was!
At about 4 AM, the pediatrician came by my room to see me. “What can I do you to help you sleep,” she asked. I told her that I thought it would help if I saw him again. She arranged for a wheel chair for me to ride down to see Peter. She patiently answered my questions and addressed my fears.
I was released from the hospital on Friday, May 3, 1991. Peter was still in the NICU.
For the next two weeks, friends provided meals and helped with the children. Our family continued with homeschooling responsibilities. I visited Peter every day.
One day, as I stood and looked at Peter in the isolet, I remembered words from a children’s CD: “Kids,” the character Psalty says, “You don’t have to trust God to get you to the top of the mountain. You only have to trust God to get you to the next step.” “Oh,” I thought, “I can do that!”
God writes in His Word: “Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6)
My thought: Don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow. Trust God for today.
On Wednesday, May 8, my mom and dad visited. They stayed at our house with the other children; I went to the hospital. Later, my mom and dad brought the other children to the hospital. Tom came from work and met us there. The “peanut gallery” were able to view Peter through the window observation post.
On May 17, Peter was discharged from the hospital. He weighed 4 pounds, 8 ounces. He was able to nurse; he was gaining weight; and his body temperature was stabilized.
Today, May 1, 2009, our Peter turned 18.
Last year, the night before his 17th birthday, I hugged him, and I wiped a tear.
“It was a long time ago, Mom,” he said tenderly; perceptively.
“I know,” I said, “but I remember… and I am continually grateful to God for His faithfulness.”
“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself.” (Matthew 6:33-34 nasb)
