Thirty Four years ago ... the year was 1976, it was the bicentennial and a big deal with celebrations being planned throughtout the country. It was an even bigger deal in our own little world that year. We were expecting our first baby. There had been articles and talk of all kinds of things for July 4th and one of which was the baby that would be born on that day. Like the New Year's baby every year but only this was on a grander scale. Our little one was was due in September so no thought given to that, however, I do have to mention that my husband's birthday is July 4th.
I had gone to work on Monday, June 21st, with a back ache starting about mid morning. Oddly I had rearranged my desk, reorganized my files, etc., etc., a few were joking that I was into early nesting mode. My little office space was just so tidy. As the day wore on so did my back ache. Throbbing away, sometimes worse then others. Grateful for 5:00, I packed up and went home. I don't remember what was for dinner but do remember turning in for the night quite early. Sporting a backache all those hours does exhaust a person.
At 2:00 in the morning I was awoken with an incredibly sharp pain across my stomach. Upon going into the bathroom I realized that I was bleeding and in trouble. I called my doctor who told me to go the the ER immediately. They (nurses) were waiting for me when I arrived and took me into an exam room. I told the nurse that I felt funny, had stomach cramps and had had back aches ... she said "honey, those are contractions". Well, knock me over ... I don't know why I had never even thought of that, talk about being naive. For one I wasn't due for close to 3 months yet and secondly I wasn't sure what labor was supposed to be like; I figured someone or something would show up waving flags with a marching band. I had figured that you would just know! After the initial shock of hearing that the chill of fear struct. I had been the fifth child born.
My mother had lost four before me. The first two, girls, had been born at about the time I was at right now, almost six and six months. Their survival had been three days for the first one, less for the second child. I had been her first full term baby, and had reached that with full bed rest during the pregnancy.
This couldn't be, it wasn't time, it couldn't be the time. I asked the nurse what would happen if our baby was born then, all she would say is that with today's medicine things are much better then they were years ago. I kept asking her as I didn't get her answer at all, I wanted more, I wanted to hear it will be fine. She never said that.
The doctor arrived minutes later, although I was not completely dilated I was too far progressed now to try and stop labor. (Back labor, it had been back labor!) He thought that in a few hours the baby would be here, he also said that every hour I continued to hold would be a benefit to the baby and that they were hoping the baby was at least two pounds. I remember looking at the clock, it was 3:05am and the thought went through my head three pounds, eleven ounces. It was then that I just looked straight up and thought God will take care of this.
The doctor had spoken with my husband in the hallway away from where I was. He told my husband "its too early".
They transported me to the labor rooms and there I voiced my thought to the nurse ... God will take care of this. She hugged me.