On Her Tummy

I got to go and see Hazel Grace today.

Not that that's something amazing, because I get to go see her every day, but in reality, it really is kind of amazing because that means that she is there for me to see...

every day.

And I praise God for that.

My tiny Hazel was sleeping on her little tummy today when I got there to see her.  She looked so peaceful there with her little legs tucked under her and one hand under her little cheek, that I didn't want to disturb her or wake her by touching her, so I just let her sleep and I just watched.

Yesterday, I got to change her diaper and help the nurse take care of her.  It was amazing and nerve-wracking at the same time.  She's just so tiny and seems so fragile and I am so afraid of doing something wrong.

But I know I have to practice and become comfortable with who she is because it is who she is and no matter how she grows or how she matures, this is still who she is...

right here...

right now.

A miracle never to be forgotten.

But today, I did not do much of anything but sit and watch her breathe.  I found myself not actually being able to believe that she is our baby.  Her perfect self is just so tiny.  How did I...we...make something like this?

She is divinely orchestrated,  Her form and her timing...

breathe in...breathe out.

Finally, I can't resist it anymore.  I have to touch.

I must reach in and cradle that tiny downy head.

I slip her little door open and reach in.

One hand, one little head, two hearts beating, hers and mine...

one love.

She remains calm as I cup her head, her softness warm against my fingers,

and she rests on.

When the nurse comes to draw blood for the check they do every 3 hours, the respiratory specialist and the one she reports to are incredulous at the results.

The results are so good...can they be true?

I keep cradling my Hazel Grace and the nurses lower her oxygen levels in response to the good results.

She is doing well.  The monitors beep slightly less.

Do you know me, Hazel Grace?

Am I imprinted on you like you are on me?

Do you feel me here?  Does my presence calm you like my watching your tiny chest rise and fall calms me?

But I can't stay forever, little Hazel.  I have to go.

And I have to leave you here.

But you are in good hands, and I will be back.

Until then, sweet baby, sleep in peace...

your mother and your Father are watching you

because you are fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139:14)