Timothy

Sunday steps: 7143
Monday steps: 7128 • Tuesday steps: 8479
Wednesday steps: 9098

Called Timothy this morning to sing happy birthday to him. He seemed tickled. Then asked to speak to his Auntie B____. Sorry, honey, she's not here. How 'bout Grandpa, then? I hand off the phone and pretty soon I hear the one sided conversation:

You want ME to sing? Nana is the singer . . . oh, all right . . . happy . . .
lol. It was so sweet. I guess that Grandpa then went over to their house to say it in person before the little guy went to school.

Five years . . . what a precious addition each one of our grandkiddos has been to our family. What a joy, even in their terrible twos and their ornery fours and . . . my heart sometimes feels like it will burst with the love I feel for each one of them. You know that kind of joy that just makes you ache? Yup, that kind.

Timothy's was the first birth I was privileged to witness. (My older daughter had to have C-sections with hers, so only hubby could go with her.) Ladybug had asked me to video tape the birth. The other grandma was asked to take still shots. So, imagine if you will . . . two grandmas standing on the window ledge (in order to be out of the way) aiming cameras at unmentionable parts of my baby girl, watching a true miracle take place.

All through the video you can hear both of us blubbering. It was so beautiful - and I cry at beauty as well as at pain.

Ladybug was awesome, I tell you. All through this little guy's labor she hardly grunted or moaned. She did slow, deep breathing right through EVERY stage of the labor - right up to the transition phase. I knew it was coming because she started shaking all over. The doc rushed in and caught the boy.

He was perfect - pinked up and cried lustily. He had long dark hair just like his Mama's when I had her. He suckled voraciously. All was well in our little world. They released her within 24 hours. She spent his first night on this earth in her own bed, with him tucked into a Moses style basket at her side.

I got a phone call that evening - something was not right - he was spitting up bright green stuff - and the other end was blood. The hospital said to wait, "all" babies do that. But, daughter, having received her CNA while pg with the little guy knew something was wrong. We finally headed back to the hospital.

A doctor was called in, did a check, got in trouble with all of us because he kept saying "the kid" when referring to his highness. We said His name is Timothy! and the doc finally realized that this is a human being in our eyes and he had best be treated as such.

A specialist in Anchorage was called - he diagnosed the problem as a malrotated bowel. We needed to get the little guy up to Providence hospital. We drove to Kenai to catch a flight. Fogged in. Waited . . . call from the hospital - bring him back we'll prep him so it'll be easier to start an IV in Anc. You'll have to drive them up if the fog won't lift.

While back at the hospital (this, btw, is a 10 mile OW trip each time between our house and the hospital in Soldotna - on a black November night - in the fog) we get a call from the airport - the fog is lifting, come back, we'll hold the plane.

We call oldest daughter to meet us at the airport with bags of clothes and such - I use my credit card to get three seats on the plane - we head to Anchorage - me sitting behind the ladybug and the baby and the daddy - my hand on her shoulder through the entire flight. I am praying fervently for this little guy - a lady next to me on the plane told me when we got off that she had no idea what was wrong but she was praying, too, because she felt it was needed.

My pastor had arranged for a friend in Anchorage to meet us at the airport and to drive us to Providence. She was a blessing - but dropped us at the wrong entrance - we found a poor orderly who rushed us through more tunnels and hallways than I care to remember and got us to the NICU where we were met by the surgeon.

Doctors tend to talk down to you in times like these - and this one tried to, until he realized that both the ladybug and I knew a whole lot more than he thought we did. Permission forms were signed, and she let her baby be taken from her to go into surgery. Timothy turned 2 days old on the operating table.

Dr. Bleicher saved our little guy's life. He has the sweetest scar near his belly button which I love to kiss and blow raspberries on.

We were told it c/would be a few weeks before he could come home. Timothy came home in 10 days. He is our precious blessing from Heaven.

I wish I could tell you the emotions we all suffered during those 10 days. I would not wish for anyone else to suffer them. But, if you have to take your baby to the hospital, believe me, Providence NICU in Anchorage is THE BEST!

And, God's people are wonderful, too. Baby Timothy was surrounded by love and prayers - some by people we didn't even know. Our stay at Providence House was a blessing - people in the community even brought in Thanksgiving dinner for the residents. I don't think I was able to eat it. A friend in Anchorage came by one day and picked me up to take me to the mall for a bit - to get me out of the hospital - to let me pick up some thngs we needed. Two of the ladybug's friends gave me a lift back to Kenai to pick up my car in blinding snow through "the Pass". We figured we had a few days, I could take care of stuff at home and then come back up to pick up her and the baby after the weekend. Instead, I got a call that he was ready to come home after one night.

Whatever this little guy decides to do in his life - wherever he decides to go - he will always know (because I will always tell him) that he has the hand of God on his shoulder and that he is a blessed child.

Love you, Timothy
Nana

Posted by Purplemoose at November 20, 2003 10:46 PM