The Morning After

The morning after I delivered Christopher was surreal.  I woke up around 8 a.m. and, for the first time in my life, I woke up as a mom.  The day before was a distant memory and a little blurry.  Because I had an epidural and then a C-section, I had to stay in bed for 12 hours after my surgery.  Christopher was born at 11:31 p.m., which meant that I had to stay in bed until 11:30 a.m.  As Christopher was born with low blood sugar, he had to stay in the transitional nursery until he was finished with his antibiotics.  In other words, although I woke up a mom, I was without my child and I had no way of getting to him.

My husband, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of getting up that morning and going to the transitional nursery to see Christopher (did you hear the sarcastic-ness?).  Meanwhile, I was left in bed trying to remember what my child looked like, since I was kind of out of it the two very brief times I had seen him the night before.  A ton of emotions hit me that morning like a brick wall.  Before Christopher, it would take a lot to make me cry.  A lot.  And when I do cry, I do not like to cry in front of other people.  That morning, however, was an eye opening experience of how I would be an emotional, motherly wreck for the rest of my life.

My husband had been back in to check on me, only to be sent back to the nursery to FaceTime with Christopher just so that I could see him.  By the time my doctor came in at 10 a.m., I was by myself in our room and had been sobbing uncontrollably for over an hour because I could not see my child.  I had to see him.  I had to touch him.  I had to hold him.  I had to bond with him.  However, I still had an hour left before I could get out of bed.  My doctor then became one of my favorite people in the world as she held my hand, called a nurse and told her to come immediately because she had a mother who needed to see her child.  An hour later, the nurses had assisted me out of bed, cleaned me up, found me a wheelchair and wheeled me to the nursery.

The moment I saw Christopher, held him, touched his face and little hands, my world was complete.  I could not stop looking at him.  I was able to feed him and soak in his perfectness.  I was able to visit him a few other times throughout the day, feed him and just get to know him and his little personality.  The next morning, he was brought into our room and my husband and I were able to begin our new role as parents.

Looking back, those three hours that I wanted to see Christopher and couldn't, when I yearned for that bond and relationship with my child, that experience is exactly how our Heavenly Father feels when we are apart from Him.  God yearns for a relationship with us.  It’s the reason we are here, why we were created.  The relief, love, and completeness that I felt after I was able to hold Christopher and begin our relationship as mother and son mirrors how God feels when we draw near to Him.  We are His children.  He created us in His image, which means that our emotions reflect His.  Who better to understand our pain and suffering than the One who created us?  He, who suffered far worse than anyone, is willing and able to offer us the support we need, even when we don’t know that we need it.  All we have to do is ask.  So far, this whole mother experience constantly reminds me of how much the Lord loves me, His child, how complete I am in Him, and how much He desires my heart.

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

James 4:8