Happy 13th Birthday, Emma!
It's an exciting day around here. James and Elise helped me prepare our traditional birthday breakfast in bed. Samuel heartily joined in the singing as we presented the tray. Since food pics are nearly always unrecognizable, I'll fill you in on the menu: scrambled eggs, spiced applesauce, and pancakes shaped into a 13, topped with apricot syrup, raspberries and powdered sugar.
It's a thoughtful day around here. I heard Kyle turn philosophical saying, "I'll never look at Emma the same now that she's a teenager."
But when Emma entered the room this morning Kyle reverted to the teasing older brother. "You're not really 13 yet, not until 4 or 5 (in the afternoon)."
Emma was a whip. "Yeah I am! It's called birthday, not birth minute."
It's a grateful day around here. My children's birthdays always make me pensive, Emma's especially so. I still catch my breath when I revisit her birth. Jeff and I were scared, but also felt so ... lifted. I felt shielded, protected in the moment from what could have been too much to bear. It wasn't until Emma was out of the woods, weeks later, that I learned some of the details of her birth: that she emerged from the C-section limp and blue, earning a 1 out of 10 on the APGAR assessment scale; that doctors performed CPR. I couldn't see any of this going on in the hushed room. Oh, the silence! I remember waiting to her hear first cry, but did not panic. Instead, I was buoyed. I felt it.
The same doctor also delivered Elise and James. He was hilarious. When Jeff couldn't accompany me to my appointments he wanted a full recap of the crazy things Dr. Roth said. So I was caught off guard one time during another prenatal visit when Dr. Roth suddenly turned serious. He asked how Emma, then a preschooler, was doing. "That was a scary day for me," he recalled. That remark was the first time I realized how tragic it could have been.
It's sobering to know that in a different time or place, neither Emma nor I may have survived her delivery. She was six weeks premature, delivered by C-section because I was bleeding out. She was 4 lbs. 13 oz. She was in the NICU for three weeks. She had no surgeries, just needed to develop.
As far as we can see Emma has no lasting effects from being a preemie. At her first grade teacher conference I slumped in relief to hear Emma was on track with her classmates. I explained to her teacher a little bit of the guilt I had felt (it was my body, after all) about Emma's early birth, especially wondering if it affected her cognitively. "I think you can stop worrying now!" she said.
I don't know why our family was so blessed with this beautiful outcome. I know so many others watch their babies suffer, and my heart aches for them. Thirteen years later, sharing this story is still tender for me.
I am so grateful this loving, compassionate, capable girl is in our family. I look at all the wires and tubes Emma once had to keep her alive. I could be glad that Emma is past that stage, that she's "on her own power" now, so to speak, but there I would be wrong.
Because it's been Heavenly Father's power all along.
Self portrait, December 2010
2 comments:
Email from Mom:
Jenni
I feel lifted, inspired, proud, grateful and awed by the power and meaning of your words - what a beautiful tribute to your precious daughter, please save this for her to read again and again, it will lift her, too. We wish Emma a wonderful "teen" birthday, the years have gone by quickly for us but your reminisces bring it all back with force and we are reminded of the miracle of birth and the challenges of parenthood. Thank you, Heavenly Father for giving us these experiences - and thank you, Jenni for expressing your experience so beautifully!
All our love,
Dad and Mom (Dad read this first and told me I had to read it!)
Post a Comment