All of the friends and family had left the hospital room, and it was just me, Mark, and Wren.
My cell phone buzzed. It was Otis and my mom requesting to Facetime with us. We chatted for a little while and hung up.
“Otis looks sad,” I said.
“He does. Do you think I should go home and get him?”
“Yes. Now. Go.”
“Are you sure?”
Yes. I hated the thought of Otis thinking we’d abandoned him for the shiny, new baby. I had done this mom thing before, and there were all kinds of professional people fully prepared to make sure Wren and I survived the first 24 hours. Yes, Otis needed Mark way more than Wren and I did.
Mark left, and within 30 minutes I realized something…
It had been six years since I had done this baby thing. I had no clue what I was doing. Why was she crying? How hard am I supposed to burp her? I have only co-slept with babies, and that’s not legal in the hospital so how the heck am I going to sleep? Just put her down in this bassinet thing and
leave her to die let her sleep?
So there I was. Alone in a hospital room with the sweetest, most innocent baby on the planet feeling so sad and scared and all I wanted was-
Knock, knock, knock
After Mark picked up Otis from my mom she knew.
She knew I was going to need her because, well, she’s my mom. She had my dad drive her to Vanderbilt at 10 at night which was a great plan except they had already closed the hospital to visitors and my dad had already driven off by the time she realized this and she didn’t have a cell phone so she was just stranded outside all alone until she saw a new dad trying to sneak in with some fast food so she just kind of followed him around like a puppy until they figured it out and then she busted into my room like the guardian angel she is.
I don’t think I cried when it happened, but I get weepy every time I think about it. You held Wren so that I could sleep even though neither of us slept because look at her! She’s perfect! You prayed with me. You reminded me to eat and to sleep and to burp the baby. You were my rock that night.
I get weepy because her very first night in this strange, sometimes beautiful, sometimes ugly world starts with a testimony to a God that provides when we’re scared and positive we are alone. He sends angels (aka Moms) to comfort and care for us, even if it’s just through the night.
I get weepy because on I was given a real life picture of the kind of mother I always want to be to Otis and Wren. A mother that obeys the nudges of the Lord. A mother who will do scary things to make sure her babies are ok. A mother who will be there, without answers or advice or judgement, just there to sit with you and let you know it’s all going to be ok.
I get weepy because Wren’s entire story, from the very beginning, has pointed me to God and His provision. When my mom knocked on the hospital room door in the middle of the night I imagine I felt the way Abraham did when the ram showed up for sacrifice instead of his son, Isaac. The relief. The joy. The faith.