Tuesday, February 18th is one of those days I wish that I could do over, but God wrote Ivey's story and her entrance into the world is perfectly designed by a God that loves her and loves us, her parents. That morning started like every other. Dan was working from home, I was gearing up for a meeting that afternoon, and then I had my Perspectives class that evening, but I knew I needed to call the doctor first. I hadn't felt the baby move since Sunday and when you're pregnant you are supposed to feel the baby kick at least 10 times in a two hour period. The nurse told me I needed to come in right away. Thinking it was probably a routine check and a couple hours being monitored, Dan stayed home to work. I arrived at the doctors office and they immediately put me on the non-stress machine to monitor kicks; they gave me coke to see if it would get the baby moving, and then the doctor came in with the news that she was sending me to labor and delivery to be monitored more closely. I asked her several times what was going on and she just kept referring to my baby as a "grumpy" baby. I walked over to the hospital, calling Dan on the way to let him know that he should probably come quickly and to bring our bags. When I got to the third floor, the nurses greeted me with, "Are you Kimberly..." I knew then that something was off. They quickly got me into a room and into the less than modest hospital gown and then the chaos began. Within a matter of minutes I was being hooked up to monitors, an IV, oxygen, and signing waivers for a c-section. The doctor came in and began to explain to me that while the baby was okay, he/she was "grumpy". I think they must have used that phrase like a million times in a span of three hours... He advised me that the baby was ready to be here but my body was not and he was going to do a c-section.
Through all of those million minutes (ha), God gave me such a peace and provided me with all that I needed. One of the nurses working that day came over and began to chat with me and with tears streaming down my face she told me that she wouldn't leave my side, and she didn't- and at times even let me squeeze her hand tightly! I only remember a few things from the c-section — seeing Dan finally come in there all suited up in his mask, scrubs, etc. and hearing him say, "Its a GIRL?!?!?" I briefly got to see her before they whisked her away to the NICU and me to recovery. The next few hours felt like eternity. I didn't get to see Ivey until around 9:30 that evening, once the spinal block wore off and I could safely move to a wheelchair and be rolled down to the NICU. The moment I finally got to see Ivey was precious. She was perfect! Even though she was connected to all kinds of wires and oxygen and an IV — she was perfect and perfectly designed by a Heavenly Father who loved her and planned her days from the very beginning. We didn't get to hold her until the next day and that moment when they placed her in my arms was amazing. She was here — finally!
The next several days were filled with highs and lows as her little body was fighting to recover from being "grumpy". Her blood platelets had dropped dangerously low and had to be monitored very closely. I could go into all the medical lingo now - but I'll save us all the time.
Through those days of being in the hospital, being discharged before Ivey, and hearing the good and bad news — I had a sweet old hymn on my heart that actually had been on my heart for some "strange" reason throughout my pregnancy. Every morning I would sing "Because He Lives" either as I was driving into work or during my quiet time.
Because He Lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He Lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
my life is worth the living - just because He lives.
I thought God had given me this song because of the last verse which talks about how sweet it is to hold a newborn baby, but I was wrong. What a comfort, as I sang this song over my sweet Ivey, to be reminded that we could face each morning when the doctor would come in and tell us her platelet numbers or when he would tell us that she had to stay another day. God knew that I needed to be reminded that because of all that Jesus had already done for us — we could make it, Ivey could make it — we were going to be just fine, regardless of what the outcome would be.
Ivey's story is crazy and not at all what we had wanted or hoped for — what parent would, but I am reminded each day as I hold and rock her and sing over her that God has an amazing plan for our sweet Ivey Elisabeth and we can face each day, without fear, knowing that HE holds her future.