So here I sit with two days left before I go back to work. In many ways it seems I haven't really taken much more than a second to digest everything that has happened in the last two weeks, since the moment I got the call from Sonia saying that they were going to induce labor. One thing about life, when changes happen, they usually happen fast. So one night Sonia and I blissfully fell asleep in our home, dreaming of how it was going to be to have a baby, and the next night...all night, I was in the hospital rubbing her back every minute as she suffered those contractions time after time after excruciating time...fade out...
fade in...almost 24 hours later, they're wheeling my wife down some well lit but cold corridor for what we never planned on, but what we knew was necessary, the infamous c-section. It's routine these days, and some women even choose to give birth that way over vaginal, but all I could feel at the time was, "wait! slow down! Thats my wife you've got there, and my son! My whole life is on that table, and if anything happens to them..." then I thought, "stop being weak! How can you hold Sonia's hand and convince her it'll be alright, if you're wallowing in your own fear?" I buried it. Deep. And I follwed Sonia's lead, as she did what had to be done. I gave her my hand to squeeze, and God gave me the words to say (even though I don't think either one of us knew WHAT I was saying, the important thing was that I was there to say it)as the doctors began. My wife began to shake. Was something wrong? Was this normal? With about five or so professionals in the room, I hoped so. "Have faith. Hold on baby...please just a little longer. It won't be long. Remember ten years, we've waited. This is it. Remember the silent tears we'd shared when no words were there?" From that same reserve, the tears reemerged, except now, those tears belonged to me, Sonia, AND our miraculous newborn son Xavier. We cried together, as he opened his eyes just long enough to see his parents for the very first time. "The bond" was immediate. No harm that I can prevent will ever come to him. As I do with my wife, I will take personal responsibility for his well being. That day was significant for so many reasons, but none more so than the realization that came to me that I was totally helpless in the face of God's will. All I could do, and all I can ever do is have faith and do what I believe is right.
The days following weren't the easiest. From the confines of the hospital to the first days at home, the challenge has been to define what part of our lives are to be left behind in favor of this new existence...this new future. As Sonia continues to heal, both emotionally and physically from her experience, we're learning how to be more patient with each other than we've ever been. There's so much to figure out now...including how to work together for the good of another. It takes our love for each other to a new level, as we disagree, agree, lose patience, and come back together again. It's more than I thought it would be. As it turns out, WE are more than I thought we would be.
There's so much more I could write, but life calls. I'd better live it. Be back soon.
4 comments:
Marc - One again, tears came to my eyes reading your words. How powerfully you write! When you said how you were trying to hold it together for Sonia, it was just beautiful. And how YOUR life was on the table during her C-section- your beautiful wife and little son. I feel honored to be a witness to your love.
You just articulated everything we felt that day. That was beautiful.
By the way, your head doesn't look as shiny as usual. I am impressed.
Marc & Sonia - I so love this blog! It helps us be close when we can't be there. Not to mention Marc's writing makes us feel like we're right there with you. Very powerful writing Marc!
As far as the little man is concerned, he's beautiful! Enjoy every day and keep popping those pics! I for one don't mind looking at them!
God Bless and take care!!
-Gigi
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