And then there were three.......

I got pregnant the first time on our honeymoon. A good or bad thing is hard to tell. I know that there began my growing up in earnest. Again, I thought I knew what was going to be, what would happen. After all, I came from a big family, I am a woman, and to top it all off, I'm a trained nurse. What arrogance!
The first surprise was the fact that things didn't happen as I thought they would. The textbook is the textbook and life is life and not often do the two meet, at least not in my life. For one of the first times in my life my body was in control of me and not the other way around.
Pregnancy didn't agree with me but it was something that I enjoyed because, I may not have had a right attitude about a lot of things back then, I knew just what I was doing. I knew that I was bringing another soul into the world and I looked forward to it. For the first time in my life my attentions were turning away from myself and onto someone else.
My husband, wonderful man that he is, did what any good husband and father should, became involved in the growth of his child. No way his stupid, self-centered, selfish wife could shut him out of this event.
Thank you God for sending him to me. Through the whole time he was there. No matter what emotional or physical trial the pregnancy put us through he was there, patient, loving, kind, unperturbed. Oh, how God knew what he was doing when he sent this man into my life. True, I did him some damage, but he is still here in spite of it.
Nine months later there we are in labor and delivery. Neither of us really prepared for what is to come. Even I was willing to admit that I didn't know what was in store, for me. My body wasn't going to cooperate, at least not in the way that was expected of it. It was going to cooperate in the plan of God but not in the way that I wanted. To this day all my husband will say is that he is greatful to God for his wife's life and the life of his child. The thought of disappointment is something that he won't let in.
Labor, what an apt name. No details necessary, that's not what this is about. Suffice it to say that after laboring all evening, all night, and all morning, nothing happened. All that time there he was beside me, never complaining, never leaving, and never once losing his patience. Always encouraging me, and, I am sure, praying for the safety of his wife and child.
Then comes the sound that anyone who knows what it is dreads to hear, the baby's heart monitor goes off signalling the baby is in fetal distress. I knew what that meant. I knew that sound. At the same time the dr. comes in and says he has to do a C-section. My heart fell into my feet. My husband, loving, encouraging, and patient as usual stood beside me the whole time. No disappointment there, just resignation that it would soon be over and he would know his child, his wife would be comfortable again, and it would all be over.
Why tell this part of the story in such detail? Because I need to remind myself of the love and constancy of my husband's love. Not because it wanes, not because it isn't still so true or constant, but because I am the one who forgets to remember. Because I wasted so many years taking it all for granted and I don't wish to do it anymore.