Faith / Spirit, Motherhood

I Was Not Alone

A year ago today, I was staying in our little house in town with my big girls. In complete survival mode at the time due to my pregnancy, I made arrangements for them to go to the babysitter’s for the day, dropped them off, and crawled back into bed. I set my alarm for 3 p.m. to ensure I was up in time to go get them.

Those were my final pregnancy days with my last daughter (though I didn’t know it at the time) … I could barely function, even the basics were challenging, nevermind any extras, like bike rides, going to the park, or attempting a day at the lake. My legs were ridiculously swollen (and so, so heavy), and I had zero energy.

Tomorrow, marks a year since the doctor’s appointment that would change everything. I had my mom drive me to Melfort that day; despite the warm weather outside, I was freezing. Any stops my mom made, I elected to just stay in the car. When my doctor took a good look at me, he knew I wasn’t well. I hadn’t been well for so, so long already, so I was relieved that he recognized something was wrong … my swollen legs and feet, some dominant vein patterns on my torso, and some red spotting just under my skin sparked alarm bells for him. He ordered blood work and sent me on my way.

The following day resembled the day before my doctors appointment … shipping the kids off to the babysitter, crawling back into bed for the day, and setting an alarm to be sure I would be up to go get them.

Planning to go back to our acreage for the weekend, I picked up the girls, and we started our commute. Almost at our destination, I received a phone call from my doctor in Melfort, asking me to come into Melfort as quickly as possible, and to also be prepared to go on to Saskatoon that night too. My husband was still at work for the day, so I ran home, gathered some things for the girls and for myself, dropped them off with my in-laws, and headed to Melfort.

In the examining room at the Melfort Hospital, my doctor prepared me for what was to come … explaining that the pregnancy was essentially poisoning my body, and in order to fix that, the baby would have to be delivered.

“At 30 weeks!” I gasped.

He assured me I would be in good hands.

My husband joined me soon, and I was prepped for an ambulance ride to the airport. I was flown to Saskatoon in the ambulance while my husband drove to meet up with me there. A night of tests and questions and oodles of nurses and doctors, and a couple of shots to boost the babies lungs, blurred into the next morning … more questions, more nurses, more doctors, an ultrasound, and finally, a decision to deliver the baby at 30 weeks, and 2 days via c-section.

My husband and I were prepped for the surgery, and at 12:56 p.m. on September 1, 2017, our third and final daughter was born. She weighed in at just 3 lbs. 4 oz. When the NICU unit held her up for us to see, neither my husband or I could believe how small she was … but she was crying and strong and feisty …

And here we are now with this incredible gift … Cambri Joy Hintz … a little girl who sits and eats what her family eats, naps twice a day, squeals with delight at her sisters, makes big messes, and is working so, so hard at walking … a little girl who seems determined to be walking before her first birthday, which is just three short days away. She’s taken 5 or 6 steps at a time a few times now. This would technically make her my earliest walker, since this little girl is supposed to be just 10 months old.

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Our moments of complete vulnerability, sheer exhaustion, and physical pain can bring about the most beautiful gifts … through it all, I was honestly at peace … during those difficult days and in the days that followed, I was NEVER alone even when I WAS alone … in the recovery room, at my sister’s in Saskatoon after I was released from the hospital, in the car on my way to and from the NICU, in the NICU … I was NOT alone. Thanks be to God.

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