Here goes...
Two weeks ago, I visited my OB for my weekly visit and ultrasound. My husband decided he wanted to be there for this appointment. He hadn't skipped work the last few months to accompany me. I think it was so hard for him to continue going just to receive more bad news. This day was different. My doctor told me we needed to have a heart-to-heart and I knew the time had come. She told us that Thatcher was beginning to show signs of heart failure as fluid was beginning to build up around his lungs. The amniotic fluid level had also increased to the point that it was becoming hard to breathe and do normal activities. When I left her office, I felt like I was in a fog. All through my pregnancy, I had wanted time to stand still so that I could have Thatcher forever. Now, time was speeding out of control and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Jake took the next day off work so that we could get a few last chores done before Thatcher's arrival. That afternoon, we went back to the doctor so she could place a Foley Bulb. I felt very strongly about not inducing with drugs because I wanted a stress-free delivery for our son. I knew the odds were stacked against him with his condition and gender, but I serve a mighty God and I believed that He would give me the time I and so many others had prayed for.
After we dropped the kids off with their grandparents, labor really kicked in. After about an hour, the contractions really picked up and I knew it wouldn't take long. At 11:00 that evening, Jake took me to the hospital. By the time we got checked in and settled in a room, my contractions were coming every minute and I was really far along. I remember the moment my water broke, I was caught between relief from the pain and fear. My mind raced with what the next few hours would bring, but I was grateful for the relief from the intensity.
After three short pushes, Thatcher Yates Kelley made his entrance into the world at 2:17AM. He was a terrible gray color, and he wasn't breathing. His cord had been wrapped around his neck and I felt my world crashing down as they wrapped him in a blanket. Our family's pediatrician was present for the birth and gently handed me my lifeless son. My husband and I wept.
After what seemed like an eternity, Thatcher gasped for air and opened his eyes. God had answered our prayers and allowed us to meet our son. My heart was full. I cannot even begin to describe the emotion in that hospital room.
Thatcher was with us for four beautiful hours. He experienced several apnea episodes, but his heart kept beating strong. I had a sense of peace, like Jesus was present in that room with us. I began silently praying for God to take our little boy home. We had just finished with the Easter season. I had read and re-read the story of Lazarus over the last few weeks and I felt like I was right there with Mary and Martha. I had uttered those same words so many times: "Even now, Lord..." Even now I knew that Thatcher could be made well, if that had been God's will. But never had John 11:4 been so real: "But when Jesus heard about it he said, 'Lazarus's sickness will not end in death. No, it happened for the glory of God so that the Son of God will receive glory from this.'" There it was. God was going to use this ugly circumstance to bring His Son glory. As we sat there in the quiet morning hours of April 17th, I held my son while his little heart stopped beating. I know Jesus was in that room with us, and I know he wept with us, just as he wept with Martha and Mary. We were allowed to see a glimpse of His holiness, grace, and peace and for that, I will forever be grateful.
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