Ours. His.

A lot of thoughts and emotions roll through your mind when you’re laying in your hospital bed awaiting your c-section.  I was prepped for surgery the same night we went to the hospital and received the news Sam was still.  The next morning, awaiting his birth, I remember being anxious for all of the unknowns.  I had spent so much of my pregnancy daydreaming about the day I was able to lay my eyes on our baby.  Now I realize I saw him all along.

Ten weeks, {confirmed}.  We marveled in awe during our first ultrasound.  Sam was tiny and beautiful.  Perfect in every way.  Ours.

Nineteen weeks, {anatomy}. I lay on the chair as the technician ran the warm jelly over my belly.  I had researched other ultrasound pictures at 15 weeks online to be sure our tech was right.  The moment she rolled over his body I knew.  I had previously had a dream and woke up in the middle of the night to tell Ted I just knew we were having a boy, and I was right!  Sitting there smiling I told our tech I knew what it was – Ted said, “what?” and I replied, “a boy!” and we cried tears of happiness.  Sam Benjamin.  A name we had picked out for him before we knew for sure.  We gazed at the screen that magnified his growing body that set him apart.  Ours.

Twenty-five weeks, {elected}.  We couldn’t wait to lay eyes on him again.  Every part of him in 3D and live in my womb.  We were allowed to have two other people in the room with us, so Grandma & Grambo came along.  They shed tears of excitement and quietly praised God for him.  Our ultrasound tech loved him too and shared in our elation and she printed “extra pictures” just for us.  Ours.

Thirty-five weeks, {ordered}.  It was our first and only prenatal visit where I was internally checked.  I remember sitting there thinking I’d made it to the home stretch!  In four weeks or shorter, we’d be meeting Sam!  Our OB ordered an ultrasound to make sure he was in the correct position for birth, and he was!  Head down, facing back; Knowing exactly what to do to prepare for delivery.  Ours.

Thirty-six weeks, {still}.  There’s a part of you that’s afraid to look when you’ve received the news your baby is stillborn, and I couldn’t.  Our doctor faced the screen towards her and gently examined Sam’s heart.  Two ultrasounds, two different machines – double the confirmation that his heart wasn’t beating.  Ours.

May 24, 2015, {born}.  I wasn’t sure what Sam was going to look like when he was born knowing he had been resting in my belly for at least a day.  I remember feeling afraid.  But the moment the screen dropped and I saw the nurses weighing him I looked at Ted and said, “Is that him?  I have to see him!”  They brought Sam to me and laid his sweet body in my arms.  I remember thinking he was perfect in every way.  Ours.

Now I know there was no reason to be afraid.  What I had not realized, and probably wouldn’t have understood before I became a Mom, is that it wouldn’t have mattered what Sam looked like, I would have loved him regardless.  He was ours.

Christ offers us that same, unconditional love.  He calls us His.  John tells us, “See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are!”  (1 John 3:1)  It doesn’t matter what we look like, it doesn’t matter what people think of us, it doesn’t matter if we don’t fit in – we are children of God.  I know now the endless love Jesus offers us as our Father, because it’s what I have for Sam.

You received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children.  Now we call him, Abba, Father.  For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children.” Romans 8:15-16