So were 1973, 1975, and 1980 — the birth years of my boys, very good years. But today is David’s day. Named for a King, a man after God’s own heart. He’s been a blessing for all these 22 years.
Was it really 22 years ago my last baby was born? What a memorable time! During those couple of weeks around David’s birth, I had a brush with death. That sounds dramatic, and it may or may not be an exaggeration. But I was awfully sick. It hurt too much to keep breathing and the effort was nearly beyond me. That was the only time in life that I thought I was going to die. And you know what I thought about it? That it would be just fine. I was ready, even eager, to meet God face to face. But then I thought of Tom and the boys and my brand new baby. Even that didn’t make me sad. After all, people die. Kids lose parents, husbands lose wives, and though it’s hard for a season, eventually it’s okay. Tom was (is) a great dad, the kids would recover, and my dear friend Nadine would be there to help out with the newborn. She always wanted another baby. Honestly, that’s what went through my mind.
Then I got better. And then I got worse. I rallied for the baby’s birth and then did a nose dive. The pivotal upswing came one night, right about 9:00. Nadine (afore mentioned friend and everyone’s favorite labor and delivery nurse) came in early for her night shift. She had been trying to tempt me with good things to eat, but no, no, thanks anyway. I had a sore mouth, violent cough, couldn’t breathe, my lungs hurt like they were on fire, no food thank you. But that night she brought me oatmeal cookies and warm cocoa. It sounded wonderful. It tasted wonderful. I could chew and swallow and the monitor that repeatedly screamed at me to breathe! breathe! breathe! never went off once while we were snacking. I slept better that night. I ate cream of wheat with raisins the next morning. It was a miracle.
I found out the next day that many of my friends from church and the Christian school had a concert of prayer for me at 9 o’clock p.m. One family even woke their little girls, who had 8 o’clock bedtimes, because they wanted to pray for me at the same time as everyone else. That still brings a lump to my throat. How precious the prayers and faith of children! Was that really 22 years ago?
Well Nadine didn’t get to be David’s mom. But she did indeed bond with our little baby boy, and she will forever be his second mom. She called me this morning to ask what I was doing 22 years ago today.
My thoughts as I mentally skip down memory lane…
There are hard times in life, some real hard times. But forge ahead…the good stuff is coming!