Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Broken Places

Induction #4, and everything was going along swimmingly (water broken, epidural in) until my nurse checked to see if I'd progressed from 5 cm dilation, as I am wont to do quickly. "I feel something," she said, "and it's not a head."

The two nurses who checked behind her agreed. Gathered closely together, the three of them clucked aloud: "Ear? Fingers? Toes?"

They called in my doctor, who checked with his hand, then with an ultrasound machine, before saying: "Baby's turned since your last ultrasound, and the presenting part is a foot. You'll need a c-section, and right away."

I'd never in my life had surgery of any kind, before, aside from the extraction of my wisdom teeth. I could write a separate post about my c-section experience, and perhaps I will. But I understand that--in this country, at least--30% of babies enter the world via c-section. What has seemed so uncommon, to me, is not uncommon, in general.

Still, I want to acknowledge: I've just experienced, in a very personal way, things I'd never seen or smelled off the farm. Also that I have a whole new respect for women who sign up for one c-section, let alone more than one.

Tonight will be my fourth spent in a delivery bed in which I didn't deliver. I've been discharged, but--except for when he's breastfeeding (every two hours)--Baby Chip needs to lie under a blue lamp. Tonight will be Jim's fourth on a sofa just to the left of the delivery bed; he looked up, just now, and said: "I feel like Snoopy on the roof of a doghouse." (Better to be on the roof of a doghouse, I say, than in the doghouse.)

We're beyond ready to go home and enjoy the family we've made in a hurry. Four pregnancies (one miscarriage) in just over four years, and we've pushed ourselves in other ways, too. I've written much of it out, but not all of it; some things just can't be blogged. Hemingway wrote, in A Farewell to Arms: "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places." But often, I think, we shouldn't blame the world; we break ourselves. Owning our decisions becomes the important thing.

I stood in front of a bathroom mirror, this morning, and studied my bloody, deeply bruised, crooked, dripping, sagging, stapled-back-together body, and--for the second time in my life--I had this conscious thought: my body and my soul look the same. It's a relief, actually, to reach that place: to know that anyone (in this case, my beloved) who sees me will see me as I actually am.

My husband looked at me with tears in his eyes, the other day, and said: "Thank you for the boy. I didn't know how very much I wanted him until now."

To which I replied: "It's ok. I knew."

And I would do it--all of it--again and again...in just the same way.

20 comments:

  1. It's the broken things that are fit for His Use. I'm so thankful you understand that, and so thankful He has protected you all. May your healing be quick and complete. May He continue to bless you richly.

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  2. You do love each other....you are beautiful inside and out....God that Savior of ours is miraculous......let's just praise the Lord!

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  3. Oh my goodness--I had no idea. Having never given birth, this has me all sorts of scared, relieved, happy, and weepy.

    Heal well, my friend.

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  4. This is just gorgeous, Brandee. I love the idea of our beat-up bodies finally matching our souls and seeing each other as we truly are. Amen. And amen again. Healing blessings to you and to beautiful Chip.

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  5. You tell this so beautifully. It reads like a poem. God bless you and your little Chip. God bless your Jim and his son. God bless your soul and your broken body. God is so good.

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  6. SO happy for you and your family, CONGRATS! I just found your blog so happy that I did :) what a beautiful blessing!

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  7. What raw and beautiful words, Brandee...I love that in your brokenness you see love and life! {{hugs}} Thinking of you and praising the Lord for His Faithfulness and Goodness!

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  8. Isn't it amazing how God uses the broken things in us to shine His glory and healing through. Beautiful post, Brandee. Thanks so much for sharing!

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  9. congratulations, dear Brandee!! so comforting to know that it is not only God, but your hubby, too, who sees you as you truly are -- and decides to love you anyway. always blesses me to remember that i am secure not because of my lovability, but because he chooses to see beauty here . . . somehow.
    enjoy that newborn. love those early days. :)

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  10. Oh wow - congratulations! And this thought - "My body and soul look the same" just took my breath away. Beautifully done. Hope you get good rest now!

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  11. I'm taken with how well you share so much of your life. That takes an enormous heart and willingness to be vulnerable. Your family is blessed to have you.

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  12. So sweet, Brandee, so beautiful. Congratulations.

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  13. Congratulations Brandee. What a blessing this son of yours is amidst the lying on the doghouse.

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  14. well, i think this is about one of the best things i've read in a long, long time, brandee. i love how you looked at your body and saw your soul. blessings as you heal my sweet friend. love you so much, and i'm so happy about your new baby boy. xo

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  15. I loved your photos at Farmgirl. I was like, she knows "our" Brandee, like I really "know" you. But here at IP it feels like I do. :)

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  16. oh yes. Expressed in such raw and lovely ways, somehow simultaneously. My first was a c-section~a much greater challenge than the two after that. Praying for your healing and the new days as a family with your new little boy.

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  17. Congratulations on the birth of your baby boy!! This is such a moving post, I'm speechless. Especially where you said your body looks like your soul. And that your husband sees you as you really are and loves you unconditionally, just beautiful.
    praying you heal quickly, enjoy your little boy, boys are precious!

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  18. You (and I) are the broken beloved. Congratulations on bringing another precious soul into this rough (but beautiful) world. love, Ashley

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  19. awww...what a beautiful little one...smiles....get some rest...heal...we are all broken in some ways....and we are yet all loved....smiles.

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