Bundle of Joy

That’s the verse I would pick to describe every moment of my life in a sentence. Everything I have, everything I’ve achieved and everything I’ve become was only possible by His unending grace… And it was that grace that gifted me a whole, perfectly fine and beautiful little bundle of joy on August 28th this year though he was born premature.

Ever since the start of my pregnancy everything was going on perfectly fine. I never threw up during my first three months (But of course I did suffer from extreme morning sickness which totally blew me off my good side most of the time); the 12th week and 20th week ultrasounds turned up a totally normal, healthy, and active baby that was growing inside me; I had no issues with pregnancy diabetes or blood pressure; I even traveled all by myself to the UK and back, just as my 32nd week was nearing.

Well the fact is, I left for the UK intending to have the baby there… But weird as it was, my appointment got delayed, and I got it two weeks after my back-up ticket back to India (which I had booked earlier just in case I wanted to come back). Well, I came back to India, feeling (to be honest) a little upset that I couldn’t deliver in the UK but decided to brush it off and not think a big deal of it. I went for the checkups and everything was fine.

It was a Sunday when I had completed 8 months (25th Aug) and I just took my phone and opened the Bible app when the verse of the day that popped up was Isaiah 41:10. It read: 

I get a different verse everyday but somehow that verse really got to me. I just thought “Okay, so I guess things are gonna start looking brighter than they are.” But the last thing that I expected was that it would have anything to do with my pregnancy.

Monday, the 26th, was my 35th week scan and I went to the hospital. They found out in the ultrasound that my baby had its cord around its neck. So I met up with my doctor and she told me that everything was okay, for now. I would have a C-section anyway but we could try and wait till near term, after running a couple of tests the following day. “Alright then,” I thought to myself. 

The following day, they ran a test to check for the fetal movements and the fetal heart-rate. The tests showed that the fetal heart-rate was normal, but at the baseline of 120. So they hooked me on to some oxygen supply and the heart-rate was fine. Owing to the initial baseline heart-rate, they asked me to spend the night at the hospital so they could monitor for any changes. I wasn’t too excited about that but well I didn’t really have a choice. We started making preparations to get admitted and booked a room for my mom to stay in through the night in case anything happened.

I spent the night at the labor ward, they monitored the fetal movements, heart-rate and my blood pressure every two hours. Everything was fine. Of course I hardly got any sleep due to the other noises in the labor ward (women in labor, babies crying as they were born) but hey, it was an experience.

Early next morning, as I sat up on my bed, sleeplessly, the verse I had made a point to memorize on Sunday kept running through my head. “Okay, Lord,” I thought. “So here I am, and you’ve been with me all through the night. Thank you so much that everything’s fine so far.” And I just kept humming a few of my favorite hymns.

6am and I was hungry, and I felt like I desperately needed a bath. I went to the midwife and begged her (literally) to let me go back to my room for a quick fresh-up. Finally she agreed and called for my mom to take me back, on the condition that I get back to the labor ward before 7.

I went to the room, brushed, bathed and even had a bowl of cereal for breakfast and got back to the labor ward. They kept monitoring me and everything was normal… again. My doctor came by at around 9am, went through my reports, ran the tests again and was satisfied. The nurse said I could go back to the room but the doctor insisted that I could go home and went to arrange for my discharge papers. I was freaking happy! I thought, “Thank you God for making things okay. So this is what you meant in the verse.” I sat around on my bed, waiting eagerly to go back home.

It was 9:45 and the doctor came back. “You can go now,” she said, “But let’s just run that test again, just to be sure.” She ran the test again and, to everyone’s concern (and my annoyance) the heart-rate was again at the baseline. Calling a nurse to monitor me for a while, she left. When the heart-rate didn’t improve ten minutes later, the nurse hooked me on to the oxygen supply again, hoping it would get back to normal. The doctor came back and seeing that things didn’t improve (in fact I heard some weird noises in the monitoring machine just then), she just left in a hurry without saying a word. This was around 10am and I just thought she went to see someone else. Minutes later, I heard her fumbling around in the hallway, shouting “Emergency! Get a stretcher into this room, right now!” and I just thought, “Okay, so someone’s in an emergency. I wonder what’s going on.” And then she came up to me and said, “Okay, I want you to stay calm, and don’t panic. The baby’s heart-rate has suddenly dropped from 120 to 107. I need to take you in for a C-section, now! Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be just fine!”

And I was like, “What the-?” But I hardly had anytime to think, or react. Two nurses came up, asked me to change into hospital clothes asap, and they shifted me onto a stretcher and hurried me into the operation theater. Nurses were grabbing on to my hands on either side. I’m still not sure what they were doing but one of them was definitely getting the IV running.

I reached the theater, and my doctor assured me again. “Don’t worry, just stay calm and everything will be okay, alright?” she said. And I thought sarcastically, “He he, stay calm, she says.”

The anesthetist introduced himself and told me that everything would be over in minutes. And he put a mask over my face and I was out in seconds. I felt like I was drowning into a deep well. After what seemed like hours, I woke up to the sound of my doctor and someone vigorously shaking my chin.

“Shefrin, wake up! Everything’s over!” I heard her voice speak loudly. My mind answered but I couldn’t open my eyes or my mouth. As I groggily tried to open my eyes and figure out what the hell just happened, she said, “Did you ask what baby you just delivered? Aren’t you curious?” I struggled to get the words out of my mouth. “What baby?” I asked. “It’s a boy!” she replied. “You can’t see him just yet, the nurses will bring him to you soon!” I’m not sure what my facial reaction was, but my mind kept resounding, “Adrian! Adrian! So you were Adrian all along, just like my instincts told me!” and I felt so much joy in my heart.

As they moved me to the post-op ward, I felt my tummy lighter, and I really missed that little being inside me, kicking away to glory. I did feel the intense pain in the incision area, but then these words kept resounding, “I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Phew, I still get jitters thinking about the entire incident. Adrian was born at 10:13am, so technically he was out within minutes of me getting into the operation theater. He was so tiny and weighed just 2.5kg. He had to be in the NICU for about three days cuz of fetal distress. But it’s awesome to know that God kept his promise. He was with me, He strengthened me, and He upheld me and my baby with His right hand.

The mystery of how God leads us according to His plans is indeed too big for any of us to understand. But the fact remains, He is always true to His word that He will never leave us, nor forsake us.