Although I have given birth to three children, I've never had the experience of sharing a hospital room with a newborn. The closest I came to that was sharing a hospital room (in a labor and delivery ward) with Ian when he was 5 weeks old after the surgery to remove his placenta. Although there were definitely happy moments in the days following delivery, there was an awful lot of emotional stress involved with a baby in the NICU and physical discomfort from recovering from a c-section, using a machine to pump milk every two hours, and the ridiculous amount of swelling that happened following each delivery in my legs and feet.
The first two times I gave birth I did not come home until the baby was discharged. Sometimes that meant sleeping in a lobby in the hospital and other times it meant sleeping in a Ronald McDonald House. I didn't spend many days at home after giving birth to Oliver (before he was discharged), but unlike the first two times I did come home. I felt very, very torn at first because a large part of me felt like I absolutely had to stay with my baby. It felt wrong to leave him at the hospital "all by himself" (meaning without any family there although of course he was receiving frequent care from doctors and nurses), but on the other hand I had been apart from my other two kids for the majority of ten weeks, and I knew his NICU stay was going to be longer than his siblings were. The first time I left him (which was before I was allowed to hold him) was the day of Nadia's very first performance in a musical. She had turned 4 years old about 6 weeks earlier. I remember that my feet were so swollen I had to walk into the church building barefoot because I couldn't get any of my shoes on to my feet. Very quickly I knew I had made the right decision because it was an utter delight to watch my daughter radiating joy while she sang her little heart out and did all the motions (plus added a few of her own to the mix, ha ha). Never since then has she ever been so animated when singing on stage. I would love to have a video of that performance to watch again, but it's still a very fond memory. My parents didn't come up that weekend because my sister and her family were at their house (from Turkey), but Paul's parents came to one of the performances as did Sarah (one of Nadia's former babysitters and Sunday School teachers).
Why am I thinking about this this evening? The past four years the musical took place right around our anniversary, but this year it is taking place two weeks later than usual (this weekend). Tomorrow night all three of my kids will be singing in the musical. It's Oliver's first, Nadia's fifth, and Ian's fourth. The past three years Paul's parents joined us one night and my parents joined us the other night. They always do the program on a Saturday and a Sunday evening. This evening as I drove into the church to pick them up from the dress rehearsal I wept because my mom won't be there. My dad won't be there either because he and my sister drove out to Indiana today to spend a few days with some of my mom's relatives. This was the first time a "first" without my mom brought me to tears. I wasn't expecting it. I thought maybe Oliver's birthday would be hard, but although she was missed I think it was easier because the Towfighis were here and we never celebrate birthdays with them so it was very different from "usual" which helped it to be less emotional. I would appreciate prayers that I keep it together the next two nights. I really want to enjoy watching my kids sing and not be focused on my mom's absence. I am grateful she was able to see their musical the past three years. Similarly I got a bit choked up yesterday at the soccer field as some other grandparents were there watching their grandkids practice. My mom longed to live close enough to grandkids to be able to do things like that, but it never happened. I know Heaven is a million times better than a soccer game or a musical at church, but I miss her very much. I am thankful she loved my children enough to drive up here for events like this in the past.
Paul took the day off of work today (yay!) for our field trip to Lancaster. We arrived at the Mennonite Information Center at 10:30 and watched a 17 movie about the history and core beliefs of Mennonites (and a little about how they differ from Amish). Then we had a 40 minute tour of a replica of the tabernacle. After that we drove 10 minutes to Lancaster Bible College for a Compassion Experience (the child sponsorship organization). It was very well done. With the aid of iPods and headphones, we walked through different "rooms" and heard the story of two different success stories from child sponsorship (a girl from Dominican Republic and a boy from Kenya). It was an excellent way to help the kids learn what it is like to live in a third world country (of course going there first hand would be a million times better). We toyed with doing one more thing in Lancaster before heading home, but since it was over 90 degrees out we opted to come home and swim for an hour before their dress rehearsal at the church. It was great to end our first week of school with a field trip!
Next week I will have the kids help me write letters to the three kids we sponsor. I am hoping the concept of child sponsorship is clearer to them now after going through this experience.
Although I have given birth to three children, I've never had the experience of sharing a hospital room with a newborn. The closest I came to that was sharing a hospital room (in a labor and delivery ward) with Ian when he was 5 weeks old after the surgery to remove his placenta. Although there were definitely happy moments in the days following delivery, there was an awful lot of emotional stress involved with a baby in the NICU and physical discomfort from recovering from a c-section, using a machine to pump milk every two hours, and the ridiculous amount of swelling that happened following each delivery in my legs and feet.
The first two times I gave birth I did not come home until the baby was discharged. Sometimes that meant sleeping in a lobby in the hospital and other times it meant sleeping in a Ronald McDonald House. I didn't spend many days at home after giving birth to Oliver (before he was discharged), but unlike the first two times I did come home. I felt very, very torn at first because a large part of me felt like I absolutely had to stay with my baby. It felt wrong to leave him at the hospital "all by himself" (meaning without any family there although of course he was receiving frequent care from doctors and nurses), but on the other hand I had been apart from my other two kids for the majority of ten weeks, and I knew his NICU stay was going to be longer than his siblings were. The first time I left him (which was before I was allowed to hold him) was the day of Nadia's very first performance in a musical. She had turned 4 years old about 6 weeks earlier. I remember that my feet were so swollen I had to walk into the church building barefoot because I couldn't get any of my shoes on to my feet. Very quickly I knew I had made the right decision because it was an utter delight to watch my daughter radiating joy while she sang her little heart out and did all the motions (plus added a few of her own to the mix, ha ha). Never since then has she ever been so animated when singing on stage. I would love to have a video of that performance to watch again, but it's still a very fond memory. My parents didn't come up that weekend because my sister and her family were at their house (from Turkey), but Paul's parents came to one of the performances as did Sarah (one of Nadia's former babysitters and Sunday School teachers).
Why am I thinking about this this evening? The past four years the musical took place right around our anniversary, but this year it is taking place two weeks later than usual (this weekend). Tomorrow night all three of my kids will be singing in the musical. It's Oliver's first, Nadia's fifth, and Ian's fourth. The past three years Paul's parents joined us one night and my parents joined us the other night. They always do the program on a Saturday and a Sunday evening. This evening as I drove into the church to pick them up from the dress rehearsal I wept because my mom won't be there. My dad won't be there either because he and my sister drove out to Indiana today to spend a few days with some of my mom's relatives. This was the first time a "first" without my mom brought me to tears. I wasn't expecting it. I thought maybe Oliver's birthday would be hard, but although she was missed I think it was easier because the Towfighis were here and we never celebrate birthdays with them so it was very different from "usual" which helped it to be less emotional. I would appreciate prayers that I keep it together the next two nights. I really want to enjoy watching my kids sing and not be focused on my mom's absence. I am grateful she was able to see their musical the past three years. Similarly I got a bit choked up yesterday at the soccer field as some other grandparents were there watching their grandkids practice. My mom longed to live close enough to grandkids to be able to do things like that, but it never happened. I know Heaven is a million times better than a soccer game or a musical at church, but I miss her very much. I am thankful she loved my children enough to drive up here for events like this in the past.
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