Cruel

Dec 1, 2012 (Early Evening) After the ultrasound the doctors came back and confirmed what I already knew.  The next question was, what did I want to do.  Did I want to stay in the hospital and have labor induced, or did I want to go home and let things just run their course.  I knew I wanted to see my child and there was no way I was going to go home, waiting to see when this would happen on its own.  I informed the doctors I wanted to stay and have them induce labor, I would wait as long as needed to see my baby.After what seem like an hour or two, I was finally admitted and told I would be transferred to my room.  I guess I never thought about where I would be taken next.  It was something that to this day leaves an unsettling feeling. 

As I was rolled out of my temporary room and being moved I began to recognize my surroundings.  I had walked this section of the hospital just months before.  We came up to the doors, and it took everything in me not to break down, as I was rolled in to the Labor and Delivery section of the Hospital.  Part of me wanted to scream, 'Why are you bringing me here! You are making a mistake, I should not be here."

For me it was cruel to be transferred to a section where mothers were occupying and awaiting for their "live" babies to arrive.  I was rolled past the room where Matthew was born, and taken just right down the hall.  This wasn't fair, it just wasn't right.  I think I almost lost it, then.  A Million things crossed my mind all at once,  not against God, but more like within myself and the reasoning behind all of  this, I began to second guess my decision.  So, I tried just focusing on "seeing" my baby. 

Medically wise I suppose I understand why I had to be placed in Labor and Delivery, but to me it just seemed like a cruel joke.  Yes I was giving birth, but not like I had for my other 3 children.  Not like I had just 8 months before, in this very same section with Matthew.  I looked around the room and as I saw the area where the baby was suppose to be placed after birth, the knot in my throat just felt like it would suffocate me.  Suddenly, I had an urge to get up and run, run as fast as I could and keep running.  Instead, I sunk in farther in my thoughts and in my bed.  I had to find my "secret place" where I knew I could gather the strength to go through what seemed like the impossible. God, My Daddy would get me through this, I just needed to let Him guide me. 

A thought crossed my mind in the midst of this.  How many mothers are going through this right now in this same hospital, in other hospitals, in their homes, in their workplace, in their car?  I knew, I was not the first nor the last in this hospital room for this same reason.  I continued crying out to God, to rescue me, to help me.  God had brought me this far, and I knew He would be with me all the way.  I was a living testimony, that God was supplying me with strength and peace so far beyond what I could ever have imagined in a situation like this. Though evertyhing had fallen apart, there was still so much to be thankful for, still so much to Praise him for.   It was time to see my baby, and I was thankful that I had this opportunity.