That Which Hovers

It’s proven difficult to focus at times the last few weeks. Thoughts and anticipation of today have distracted me at random moments. It’s my daughter’s first birthday; a milestone mothers excitedly prepare for by choosing a party theme, writing out invitations, ordering the smash cake and planning décor. I’ve done all that in preparation for Estelle’s party this coming Sunday but it’s all been done with a calm fear churning within me about the emotions that would surface today.

Today is Stella’s day. The day she, and those closest to her, will celebrate for the rest of her life. She deserves this day to be all about her. Always. Today, and all the June 8ths that will follow, I will undoubtedly make all about her. It’s been bothering me though to know in the background of today’s celebrations there are memories I sometimes wish I could erase.

While this day will never pass without a celebration for Stella, it will also never pass without a reminder that every day since June 8, 2016 almost wasn’t for me. My body failed during childbirth. It took the quick hands and sharp minds of dozens of doctors and nurses, and eleven pints of blood from generous strangers I can never personally thank, to sustain my life one year ago today. Because of all of those people I have been able to care for and love my daughter every day since her birth, and I am here for her first birthday.

I look at this picture, taken less than 18 hours after I nearly lost my life, in disbelief of what happened after Stella’s birth. It’s a miracle this moment was captured. My body had been through hell – laboring for hours only to then be cut open for a c-section, stitched up then cut open again for an emergency partial hysterectomy. I had foreign blood and platelets circulating in my body, my arms were so bruised from being poked and prodded I looked like I had been run over by a car and felt like it too.

I had suffered through being intubated and hadn’t eaten in almost 48 hours. Yet, there I sit in my hospital bed looking like a typical postpartum mother smiling and loving on my daughter. This picture is proof to me that life is beautiful even during the worst of moments.

It’s been a challenging year – physically and emotionally healing all the while caring for an infant, along with a kindergartner, losing two grandparents, accepting a new role at work, putting our house on the market… If someone were to give me one of those “check all that apply” stress questionnaires I have no doubt my total amount of stress would indicate I should probably be medicated and maybe even in a padded wall room.

It’s odd to me however; that in the last year rarely have I felt long-lasting, overwhelming stress. Yes, I’ve definitely had moments, days and sometimes weeks where I was on edge, my mind heavy with thoughts that distracted me during interactions with people, but in those times I was usually able to calm my stress with positive clichés like – “Things could always be worse,” “Everything happens for a reason” and “No matter what the situation I’m blessed to be experiencing it.” Sometimes I truly believed those thoughts, other times they were nothing but trickery to get me through the moment. Regardless, I know they helped.

My life has certainly become focused on moments. The big ones, the little ones, the stressful ones, the euphoric ones. Every moment is a gift and it’s changed not just me, but my husband in ways I probably don’t even know. But I do know that we often think, “What if she/I wasn’t here?”

The thought causes pause in both of us but I personally cannot ponder it very long. It stirs up too many “what ifs.” It takes me to a place where I know by now I can’t spend my precious time. But nonetheless the question still hovers in our lives. It’s an ever-present, quiet reminder to be grateful for what we have and not take it for granted. Some moments we succeed, others we fail but that’s human nature, I suppose.

So it is gratefulness I choose to focus on today. I’m sure I will have to wipe away a few tears but they will be tears of gratitude as Stella’s birthday is not only the day I received the beautiful gift of a daughter, but also the day I received the incredible gift of a second chance at life. Both are incredibly spectacular gifts for which to be grateful. I have to let myself rest easy knowing it is ok for my family and me to always celebrate both on this special date.