Being a mom means a life-time of transitions. Sometimes the transitions lead to good things, like the birth of your very first child, who blesses you with gift of motherhood. What a joy that is…until sleep deprivation takes over, and yes, unfortunately, that can happen. It happened to me with my first child, but I was also facing several stressful transitions at once. Our first daughter was born by C-section, that unexpected, last minute transition when the doctor suddenly says, “We need to get that baby out of there quickly, she’s under too much stress.” These instant transitions are mind-boggling. You just kind of tumble through them, because you can’t really take time to sort through it all. Shortly after that stressful birth, I got news that my father (who was going through treatment for lung cancer) was not doing well. I called his Dr.’s office to see if we should “drive up,” with our newborn baby, from Cincinnati to Akron, to see my dad. The doctor said yes, please come. Whew, that was some difficult news to hear. There was a snowstorm affecting travel, but we left as soon as we could. When I saw my father in the hospital, he didn’t even know who I was. I was, in fact, “my daddy’s girl,” and I’m sure that the sensitive folk nearby could hear my heart breaking. My mom said we would try again the next morning, because he was usually better in the morning. However, the phone rang as we were getting ready to leave for the hospital, I was nursing the baby in preparation to leave, so I could introduce my dad to his first granddaughter, which he had longed for (he already had 4 grandsons). Unfortunately, the phone call was from the hospital. We had come too late. My father had died during the night, all alone in a hospital room. It was the worst transition of my life, losing my earthly father. I was only 28 years old, and he never got to see his granddaughter. I was in a mental fog during the next several weeks (maybe even months), as we had the funeral, and navigated our way through that stressful time, then trying to get back in the groove of a “normal” life.
The next trying transition was soon to come, a double whammy of sleep deprivation from a baby with colic, (which actually started while we were still in Akron) and depression over the loss of my father. That was a VERY difficult time, but my strong faith, my ability to keep holding on no matter what, and an awesome husband to help me with our baby, (with a tiny bit of Catholic counseling squeezed in there) got me through it.
We had a hard time conceiving with our first child, so we were surprised to find out just a few months later that I was expecting again. Surprise transition! Our two oldest daughters are only 16 months apart in age. We had even more trouble with the second delivery, finding out that I was “iso-immunized” when giving birth to my first baby, so now my body was attacking the red blood cells of baby in utero. There was no RH factor involved. I am actually negative in three minor blood groups (which I never even knew existed!) and they were causing a lot of trouble for our little one. When she was born, her first Apgar score was 1. Not sure what got her that one point. I’m guessing it was a faint heartbeat. I was crowned the queen of unusual complications. Looking back, I’m glad that I was mostly oblivious of the extreme danger our baby was in. Doctors were “hush-hush through it all, just doing what needed to be done for our baby girl. We didn’t know until later on, how close we had come to losing her.
I also can’t remember much of the transtion of having two babies. The constant visits to the NICU, and pumping milk to take to the hospital for the baby, those things took up all of my time (thank God!) and I didn’t feel depressed at all, or have any fear. It was my faith, and the people around me holding me up, keeping me going (and, of course, caring for our babies.) My mom came down to help out, a new purpose that she needed and appreciated as she continued to mourn the loss of my father. She stayed at our house with our oldest daughter while we made our frequent visits to the hospital. We would have been lost without her help. Our Church friends also helped out, with meals and (most importantly) prayer.
Never say, “All I can do is pray.” Prayer is powerful, and even though we don’t see anything tangible being exchanged, God works miracles through prayer. He lifts up our souls in mysterious ways, and fills our hearts with hope and trust. When you offer to pray, you are offering THE BEST GIFT available, and my survival through those difficult situations is proof of that!
By this point, we were ineligible for maternity coverage. We tried several different insurance companies, but they all refused us. However, I kept having this nagging feeling that we had another child, “waiting in line.” That’s the only way I could describe it. God had another child in mind for us.
A few years had passed since our second daughter’s complicated arrival, so we decided to make an appointment with a “new” high risk pregnancy doctor, to see if advancements had been made with our rare complication. This doctor was kind and helpful, and offered to work with us to help us navigate both the dangers and the cost of another birth. (As I think back to that time, I am amazed that he was willing to help us. And there were some new procedures available, too, specifically, intrauterine blood transfusions for the fetus, if needed. I’m not really sure how I talked my husband into it, but we did get pregnant again, and had another daughter. We faced some new complications with this last pregnancy, and my doctor ended up delivering her at 32 weeks. (Our 2nd daughter had made it to 34, but recall that her situation was very precarious, touch and go).
And so, “little one in line” was delivered at 32 weeks. She came home with an oxygen tank, and an oxygen saturation meter, and had many follow-up visits, but we were used to those by that time in our unusual path to parenthood.
I recently found out that the doctor who helped us with our last pregnancy, Dr. Philip Polzine, is still in practice in our area, still delivering babies (but no longer specializing in high risk pregnancies). We probably pushed him over the edge, into a less stressful type of practice. Ha, ha, But what a gift he was to me and my husband enabling us to have that third child (who turned out to be a wonderful gift to us in so many ways, and the one who lives only a ten minute drive from our house.) Yes, she was meant to be ours, and we’re so glad we didn’t have to leave her “standing in line!” Our talented Irish dancer daughter! What great adventures she called us to, as her parents!
At any rate, with all those complicated things that happened, (but mostly happy endings) God had me right where He wanted me. With three daughters that I had fought hard to bring into this world, I was ready when God called me to the alternate life of homeschooling. I was strong and courageous, with problem-solving skills in abundance, and I was well aware of God’s enduring presence in my life. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2008, I initially felt joyful, and eager to offer up my suffering for family members and others in need (and wow, did they get a bounty of sufferings offered up through that time!). When that “season” was past, and I was beyond the worst of the complications of my chemo and radiation, “college season” came upon us, flowed closely by “wedding season.” Because of our awesome homeschool community, I was ready for that, armed and ready to call upon our awsome “Wedding Committee” through which we shared the jobs of food prep hall set-up, and reception catering, serving each other in a wonderful way. (And saving us all loads of money. We paid for hall rental and food cost, that was about it, because our comittee had all of the things that we needed to pull off a good, professional looking reception (including hall decorations!) Some of the moms worked practically every wedding, and my husband and I along with our grown children helped pretty often, too, in appreciation for all that was done for our family! If you don’t have a faith community to help you through such things, you might want to start one, yourself.)
And now I find myself deeply immersed in the season of grandmothering, under the title of Mimi, so I drive to visit the “nearbys”, and fly for long visits with the “faraways.” In the meantime, I’ve been caregiving for the elderly, but have recently heard God calling me (by way of serious autoimmune illness, in a new direction. I’m not quite sure yet what that new direction will be, but I finally learned to just hold on tight to God’s coattails, and follow blindly. Because God ALWAYS know best.
So whatever craziness or suffering that might come your way, always know that God is right there, never letting go, holding you close through it all. It’s not always easy to believe that when you’re going through difficult times, but if you take the time to reflect and pray, and say, “Thy Will be done,” you’ll realize that God is actually very close, just waiting to heal you, and to form you into the awesome mom you are meant to be!
Looking back on my life now, I only see the beauty, and the current blessing of three lovely daughters and 15 grandchildren. God is ever so good and faithful and generous, and I will praise His holy name through all of eternity!
grandma's coffee soup 