At 1:21pm on October 20, 2009 a 7lb.14oz. miracle was delivered in the operating room at Central Baptist Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. She was all red and grey and loud and beautiful. I ended up having an emergency C-section – almost everything had gone off-plan, but somehow that moment was perfect. I couldn’t really move because of all the monitors and machines, but when the nurse held her up to me, I whispered, “I’ve been waiting all day to see your face.” Jane Gray Layson had officially entered the world.
Can anything prepare you for what it’s like to deliver a baby? There’s absolutely nothing like it. Your body is no longer your own. You get a glimpse of this during pregnancy, but delivery and postpartum? That’s a whole different level of weird. I still remember the look on Steve’s face when my water broke. He was frozen. I’m not sure if it was fear or disgust. Probably both. I’m pretty sure he’s still traumatized. Thankfully we were already in the hospital. Our precious nurse, Crystal, was there to help me navigate this *tricky* situation. As I waddled to the bathroom with a giant puppy pad between my legs I remember thinking, “The honeymoon is definitely over!” It’s one terrible; awkward situation after the other. People in and out of your room all night and day. Breastfeed in front of strangers? Sure. Document the amount of your daily urine output? Totally normal. Try out the double breast pump with the lactation consultant in the company of your mom? your husband? YOUR MOM AND HUSBAND AT THE SAME TIME! (Seriously. I’m not making this stuff up.) #Awkward.
There just isn’t anything in this world that has changed me quite like being a mom. It’s hard and wonderful all at the same time. My selfishness is highlighted on a daily basis, but somehow my ability to give and receive grace has expanded. All of the sudden, in that one moment, people became easier to love because everyone was someone’s child. The value and worth of Jane Gray’s precious life challenged me to see the value in everyone else – even in myself. To this day, I can’t counsel or teach or LIVE without a painful awareness that all of us belong to each other. We are connected – for better or worse – and the value of one re-emphasizes the value of all. On that October day in Kentucky, I would have done ANYTHING for that child. There was NO TASK too messy, too awkward, too embarrassing, or too painful – She was my child, and she was worth the sacrifice.
I think about that story often. We’ve added two more rascals since then, and each time it’s been the same. Nothing in this world could keep me from them. They are worth everything – my pride, my money, my dignity, my life. It kind of reminds me of a familiar story… But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)
missihippie 