Day by Day
Dear friends, a beautiful New Year to you!
image shot @ Los Poblanos open space
“How are you?” “What day is it?” “Are you okay?”—these are some of our commonplace greetings which we often don’t know how to respond.
“Day by day” is a phrase you’ll often hear me say.
A friend recently asked me why I use it so often, especially when asked “How are you doing?”
I had an answer but it was a long one and I needed more time to share. So, as this New Year has been approaching, I’ve been waiting and wondering about what to write for this posting and decided to reflect on the phrase I use almost daily in some form or another. It’s not used as the expression of laissez faire or “I don’t care.”
But rather a great dependency!
In the millennium year 2000, I experienced one of my greatest losses. So, when January of every year comes, I have a recurring heaviness and heartfelt grief that quietly flows within; it's not something I can dismiss or shoo away, or get over, but have learned to walk through, pray into, and hope in.
GRIEF. It is a beautiful memory, and a difficult remembering of suffering, joy and sorrow, tears and drying them–it is a brevity of healing that keeps coming year by year.
You may be familiar with it as well.
This is the first time I've ever written this story for others to read, so bear with me. For the first time I can say “join in my suffering” because I’ve learned it is in suffering, the dim and dark grey times of life, we grow to say from experience:
“the oil of gladness instead of mourning and the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit” will come. Isaiah 61:3.
Let me share with you my Story.
22 years ago in Modesto, California, I was 28 years-old and in the midst of my third pregnancy, carrying twins.
Our oldest son Isaiah was 7 and our daughter Sutherland was 3. I was homeschooling these dear ones while trying to keep myself healthy and off bedrest for this pregnancy.
My prenatal appointments were “often” and “not quick”— being certain to get every measurement for twin A and twin B. Ultrasounds at every visit after having to drink what felt like gallons of water before and then being told “Don’t pee.” “Really!” I tried to make it through and I did.
And making decisions like wanting to know the sex of the coming two. Of course! Early on it was “determined” we were having a girl and a boy. Wonderful! And do you want to check for Down Syndrome amniocentesis? I declined. And a very detailed ultrasound that would give us in color the details of where fluids were moving and assure all was going well. Sure, that would be great!
Seven months in, a few weeks after my thorough ultrasound, on the 24th of January, I woke up ready to embark on our homeschooling day and we did! Becoming tired and uncomfortable around 1:00 pm, I sat on the couch, pausing for a moment, holding my back, and thinking I may be having back labor. I was 33 weeks into this delightful yet weighty experience (8.5 pounds of babies in my womb), with still a month and a half to go. My March 12th due date was a long way away. So I carried on, going through my day. Besides, I had a 4 o’clock appointment.
By 5:00 pm during my appointment, I was told to go home and pack my bags. Be ready to check-in to the hospital by 6:00. There was time to stop this labor from delivery.
Brian and I settled in my hospital room not knowing what was going to take place.
Within the first few hours, an IV dripped in my veins, two large bags of magnesium sulfate. My body and skin felt hot and on fire. The fluids were not stopping these two babies from arriving.
We called my parents and someone called on all our friends and family to start praying!
By 8:00 pm, a nurse who had been with us for a while began preparing me for the “Big Room” (delivery with possibility of C-section or anything else needed). She began whispering in my ear “look to the light,” “follow the light,” not knowing what her intent was for me; it didn't matter.
The prayer on my lips was Jesus Jesus Jesus… Speaking this aloud as I am wheeled down hallways, and into the Big Room. All I could see were a few strange faces staring down at me and the ceiling above. I had no idea what was going to happen next.
Within an hour, I had delivered Twin A who was whisked away. I could barely hear a cry but slightly in the distance I heard my baby cry which brought joy to my heart. Was it our girl? Or our boy?
No answer came for me but instead the caring voice of my delivery nurse saying “Get ready”; “Push”; “We need to get baby B out now!”
Oh right, of course delivery number two! A man was standing above me next to my husband getting ready to put me out with anesthesia (a C-section may come). I heard the caring voice again saying “Push Now!” and the doctor pulled two legs out first, and breech baby Twin B was born. Oh what a relief! (Yes, I’m leaving out many details that followed).
Our twins were born and whisked off.
I was then wheeled in my hospital bed back into my room feeling exhaustingly dumbfounded by what just happened. Somehow I delivered twins naturally and one of them breached. Jesus was in that room with me, I’m sure!
Within moments, there was a solemness engulfing my room. I noticed our pastor sitting in the corner praying. A doctor came in (not my delivery doctor) and said “Here’s what’s going on, we need to make some decisions quickly. Baby A is not doing well. He has no kidneys (later we learned the term Potter’s Syndrome) and underdeveloped genitals and brain. We can try to send him to Sacramento but there’s a terrible thunderstorm right now and we don’t know if there’s anything that can be done.” All I can remember is feeling numb, shocked, and tears pouring from our eyes and heart. Praying “What O God, what do we do?”
An hour later at 12 am, now the 25th of January, we were finally taken to the NICU to meet our sons. To say Hello to one. Cailan who will be “touch and go” for the next 7 weeks. Then, the unforgettable moments of saying Hello sweet baby Riley and Goodbye precious Riley in sobbing voices until we meet again one day in heaven.
Looking back each year, I find myself remembering every detail of this night that changed our lives forever. In all the thoroughness of my prenatal visits, to the preparations of birthing and getting our home and lives ready for twins, and becoming a family of six– all was changed in a matter of hours. Instead of snuggling with my newborns, I slept in a cold dark hospital room alone that night, and the next day began planning for our son’s funeral. Two days later, I went home with no newborns, and tightly hugged my Isaiah and Sutherland with tears streaming from my eyes.
With great sorrow, and with great joy we brought our son Cailan home 7 weeks later, still “touch and go'' for another 4 months.
And from there, I began living every day in the breath words of “Day by day”
Knowing first hand that God opens and closes my day and the unfolding of each one given. In 2022, I will continue to answer the question “How are you doing?” with “Well, day by day dear friend!”
And in this year, like every year after 2000, I carry on with a great dependency and a great hope that “For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere” Psalm 84:10.
Joy and gladness,
Melanie
