Lying in a hospital bed one early morning, I couldn’t figure out what day it was. And the date? Well, I wouldn’t even attempt to guess at that. I pulled up my phone calendar to find it was 9:30 on a Tuesday morning and began counting how many days I had been in the same four walls, in the same hospital bed. One, two, three….seven, eight, nine. Nine!?!?! This bed had been my home for nine days! This bed represented a wide range of emotions: pain, laughs, gratitude, and resentment. THIS BED was my nemesis. THIS BED was my safe haven. THIS BED exemplified life and a broken heart. I loved this bed…I hated this bed. Who knew a bed could symbolize such an array of emotions within me?
Nine days ago, my husband (Jonathan) and I made a trip to the nearest hospital when I began having intense contractions at 31 weeks gestation. We were confident the doctor would administer medication to stop contractions from continuing and/or worsening and that we’d be home in a snap; we’ve been through this before. Sure enough we were back in our big, comfy bed by 4 A.M… But in just a couple of hours’ time, the medication started wearing off, so back to the hospital we went, but this time with even heavier contractions in tow. We decided it was best to make a trek to the hospital we planned for delivery since it seemed that could be happening in the near future.
After copious amounts of medication to keep my babes in the womb, days 1-5 looked about the same…painful, long, and contraction after contraction after contraction. Saturday morning (day 6), I started having adverse reactions when the doctors started a second phase of medication to prolong my pregnancy. My heart rate reached an alarming 155, so I was advised to stop all medications and hope for the best. That evening, my water broke and we all thought, “This is it!” The troops were called in and everyone was waiting anxiously their arrival. Apparently, my girlies were super tricksters because they stayed all nice and cozy in my belly the rest of day nine! Of course, this was great news, but it was starting to take a toll on my emotions.
Mommy guilt…gosh, it is just the worst, right? Your logical brain is telling you one thing, but your heart aches and breaks, confusing your spirit to the point of crumbling. THIS BED holds my body which is keeping my girls safe and sound, yet it holds me captive away from my home that holds the other half of my heart…my boys. My two beautiful gifts who are having to go to bed each night without their mommy. My brave bear cubs who close their eyes each night and open them each morning wondering if today will be the day that life will return to normalcy. The little 5 year old voice who calls me just to “see your face because I missed it” or hides in a closet crying because he has emotions too big for his sweet heart to understand. This mommy guilt is the hardest. It’s harder than any painful contraction or chest pain I will ever endure. I am supposed to be their safe place…the place of stability.
I ordered a new devotional book a couple of weeks ago and had it hand-delivered to my hospital room via my husband (who has been my rock through all of this…despite getting sick).
“Living abundantly where you are, as you are”
The word “savor” may be the last of a long list of emotions I want to focus on, but I know my God would want me to savor every day he has given me. Day 9’s devotion closed with this…
Just yesterday, a lifelong friend delivered food to my house to feed my tribe. This physical act of love helped me close my eyes in THIS BED last night with ease. To know my little and big humans had a full tummy was enough. It was a holy work to my family. A few reasons my heart is full…friends….family…being love to my little men when I am unable to.
Acts 4:32 states, “All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had”.
How true this verse hit me on Day 9. Our people have shared everything…services, food, love, quality time, encouragement, gifts, time….
How could I sit here in THIS BED that holds me hostage and not savor each and every minute of this abundant life? Although this bed represents bondage, it also represents the hands and feet of Jesus. His people love WELL. His people teach me to live abundantly wherever I am, just as I am. I’ve learned to not view it as bondage…but as freedom, which by definition means the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint. Physical limitations cannot undo the love of Jesus and for those whose love is big. In fact, it enables that love to shine abundantly. Where there is bondage, there is freedom. Where there is bondage, there is abundant love, exceeding any expectation we are capable of possessing.
Where are we at?
The goal is to reach day 21 in THIS BED, which will get the girls to 34 weeks gestation. They will receive their eviction notice on March 6th if they haven’t made their grand appearance before then. It’s overwhelming, but just like any other obstacle, I gotta take it one day at a time. These little girls weigh about 4 pounds each. 4 pounds of straight up fierceness.
Thank you for the continued support and encouragement. Life would lack in luster without each of you in it.