Wednesday, March 11, 2009


I was awake. The morphine should have knocked me out, but more powerful than the morphine was my fear of not waking up. Solution: fight the urge to close your eyes. The traffic in my room had calmed as they waited for me to go to sleep. I refused to go this way. I had decided that if I was going to die - I was going to die awake, not lulled to sleep by the morphine. NOPE. Not going to sleep. After several hours of checking in on me, my nurse finally realized sleep wasn't going to happen. So, they sent a team of Neonatologists in to give us another "speech." I was tired of speeches. I was tired in general. At that point, it seemed like I had been pregnant for a lifetime and it had only been 26 weeks. And yet at the same time, it couldn't end yet.

Our babies were all around 2 pounds. If born on that day, we faced a laundry list of risks and developmental delays: Blindness, intestinal infections, spinal problems, lung issues, heart problems, feeding issues, and a host of unknown problems. The odds of them living at all were greatly stacked against them.

I struggled with God's promise to me - the promise to give me children. I thought back to His reassurance and questioned His plan. Did His word not say "a good plan to prosper me"? Did He not say he'd give me "the desires of my heart"? Did He not say he would "heal the brokenhearted and bind up my wounds"? Did He not promise to "send His angels charge concerning me?" YES! He promised me ALL that and GOD DOES NOT LIE!

We held on to these promises and tried not to think about the "what ifs." I didn't have the strength anymore to think on those "what ifs." I was too tired and the morphine was getting the best of my willpower. Eventually, I closed my eyes and gave into my body's cry for rest. We would wait and hopefully the babies would stay put as well.