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The baby wasn’t due till July and so life was just moving in a distant direction between work and our relationship with each other.
Days moved into weeks and we still had not solved issues that were dragging us down.
Therapy didn’t seem to help this time either.
It was a sad journey for us and we had no clue what it would take for things to change for us.
It was around five in the afternoon on the twenty fourth of May when I came home to listen to the answering machine.
There was a call from our daughter who was crying and she said:
“I am in crisis and we have to get the baby out tonight… you can come to the hospital if you want to”.
(we laugh about that now ~ how silly of her)
My husband was in Bend about three to four hours away from where I was and our daughter was in deep crisis about to deliver a premature baby.
I was immediately in shock.
I called my son and daughter in law and she drove me as we followed our daughter and her husband en route to the labor and delivery section of the hospital.
Forty minutes later we arrived after what seemed like a slow ‘processional’ to the emergency department.
I didn’t know at the time but according to the nurses waiting for her ‘she should have been in an ambulance’.
The nurse from the first hospital had laid her down in their car on her side and had told her ‘don’t move any other way so the baby can stay stable’. The heart beat would change as our daughter would move to get comfortable. There was low amniotic water on the baby and our daughter was in pre-eclampsia and toxemia which could prove fatal to one or both of them. Not arriving in an ambulance was a very bad decision on someones part when they did arrive and all chaos broke loose.
Our daughter was rushed to the labor and delivery floor.
I was still in shock not knowing what to think or feel.
As our wait moved into the early night time hours our son made sure I had something to eat.
Usually in times of tension or stress that is the last thing one thinks about and he was just making sure I was taking care of myself through this process.
I remember sitting in the waiting room feeling so alone (even though I wasn’t alone) with deep thoughts on my heart about so many things.
The doctor came out and told us that mom and baby were stable but the baby might be three pounds once they get the emergency surgery finished.
I felt myself begin to cry.
Holding back the tears I prayed for the first time in months.
I don’t think I bargained with God or promised anything I just ‘prayed’.
How would we become grand parents and start a new role together feeling distant and apart from each other?
For the first time in many months God was beginning to stir my heart and turn my heart towards our home.