His timing, not ours

For three days I dealt with the headache, vision problems and heat wave from the Mag. Friday morning came and the peace was gone. I felt like the bottom could drop out and we could lose control of the situation. I said as much to Dr. L (the Perinatalogist) and he listened. A few tests confirmed that I was right. We couldn't wait any more. I was going to have my baby that day.
Maybe later I will have my Mom write about that day. I was too busy being sick to remember much of it.
Everything was set. I had an epidural and was going to get to be awake to see J. Chad was going to be in the delivery room and was getting dressed. But before the epidural was running J started to crash and they put me out. Fast. Forty five seconds later, our daughter was born. At 23 weeks, she weighed 1 pound, 1 1/4 ounces and was 11 1/2 inches long. They tell me that she cried like a newborn kitten.

Now, the trouble with a blog is that you don't see the growing pile of kleenex beside me as I type and you don't get the feeling of the long pauses when I have to go down and interupt what my girls are doing to hug them tight! Even after seven years, this still affects me profoundly. I pray it always will.
God's Grace is evident even in the timing of J's birth. Because I had been sick for so long without knowing it, J had been under a great deal of stress in the womb, which actually helped her to develope a little faster. When I woke up that Friday with no sense of peace about waiting, neither I nor the doctors could have known that her placenta was about to fail. If that had happened, she would most likely have died before they could deliver her. God knew that she had been in my womb as long as she could benefit from it and it was time for Him alone to take over.
This is the first picture taken of J. The bottle next to her holds 2 ounces.