Tomorrow, unless Mason’s fetal lung maturity test tells us otherwise, we will meet our son. Delivery is expected to be in the morning.
Right now I’m such a mess of emotions. I’m so excited to meet Mason and get our life raising this son started. He has been loved from the moment we knew we were pregnant and even before that. I can’t wait to see how he fits in with his 6 older siblings in looks and personality.
I’m also in tears over this separated beginning we’ll start with. For days we will be in different hospitals. I’ll be on a floor full of new moms and babies, able to hear their babies cries no matter where I am, yet my arms will be empty. My son will be miles away from me. It’s breaking my heart.
I know there are people who would like to visit me in the hospital, to keep me company. To be honest I don’t want to sit there and pretend I’m okay. I don’t want to smile and make small talk. I don’t want company. I want to focus on doing everything I can to get out of that hospital and to my son. That means walking, eating, sleeping, and pumping.
I know this is part of God’s plan. I am so blessed to live in a time and place where Mason will be given the medical care he needs to survive. I know this. Forty or fifty years ago my son’s medical condition would have been a death sentence due to it’s severity. And I’m grateful – oh so grateful – that God has sent Mason to our family.
It still doesn’t make it any easier emotionally.