My mind, and probably my last epistle, couldn’t hold all the stories from Ivy’s arrival, so here’s a few more great ones.
Starting with the night before Ivy was born…If you recall, I was feeling like my body was turning into a slide. We were on the way home somewhat late at night and out of the quiet darkness pipes Evelyn.
‘Hey Dad, did you know mom’s pelvis is about to come apart?’.
Pretty sure I burst out laughing and definitely snorted.
Moving on to the next day. I was still in the operating room and Wes and Ivy had departed to the nursery when my doctor chuckled and said, ‘Well Kelsey, do you want to tell them all what you did to me on Wednesday?’.
Ahh. It was pretty funny. Wes and I arrived at the doctors office and sat in the waiting room with four other couples, all who were waiting to see the same doctor. And so we waited and waited and about thirty minutes later, finally got to a room and did the initial check up with the nurse and then waited some more. I figured that my doctor might enjoy a laugh (he always has a perpetually smirk on his face but I don’t think I’d ever got him to laugh) since running 40 minutes behind can’t be too enjoyable, and that there was no time like the present to try to flip baby. And so I pulled out the ‘foot tray’ and repositioned the pillow to be under my hips and then laid upside down on the examination table in a nice inverted position.
I laid there a long time, long enough for blood to be pretty lodged in my head but it was so worth it. My quiet, calm doctor opened the door and immediately burst out laughing. ‘Oh Kelsey, thank you. I needed that today. (snicker snicker) That was definitely a first. (chuckle chuckle)’. And he couldn’t get past it. We’d be visiting and he’d shake his head and say, ‘it’s going to be a long time before I get that image out of my mind.’
And he was still chuckling on Friday, ‘I’ve just never seen anyone’s head between the stirrups before.’
Bahahaha. Oh I do enjoy a good laugh.
Moving on to a completely different note. A definite hospital highlight.
Two days after Ivy was born, I figured I try to go walk the hallways. I made it from my bed to the bathroom and back and was like, mmm, not ready to take on the hallways. So I collapsed onto the couch and did some back exercises. But I kept hearing something.
I finally asked, ‘Wes, is that people singing or someone’s music?’.
Wes was real busy on his computer and holding Ivy and didn’t have much of an opinion. I was pretty convinced it was singing so I found a fitted sheet, wrapped it around myself and popped my head out the door. And sure enough, a group of twelve or so people ages 10-80 were down the hall singing hymns!
I immediately began the quest to find some pants because I was definitely going to be joining them. I pulled on one pair and they fit right on my incision so those came right off. I was rummaging around in my bag real awkwardly bent over (Wes was still real busy, haha), when I heard them walking by my room saying, ‘Well, I think someone stuck their head out here’. But they kept walking.
And I was like, I am not missing out on singing songs about Jesus with these people just because I can’t find pants! Who needs those anyway?!
So back went the fitted sheet around my waist and out I popped again to join them as they sang down the hall. They saw me come out and walked back towards me and we all finished the song together and smiled and started another. I motioned Wes out and he and Ivy joined in. Wes handed Ivy to the 80 year old lady who was being pushed in a wheel chair and at the end of the song she announced that she wanted to pray for this child. And we closed our eyes and she prayed the sweetest simplest prayer over Ivy. I had to keep my eyes closed because of all the tears coming down and was finally able to join in on the last verse of Silent Night.
And we exchanged a few more words and smiles and it was one of the best moments of church all year. Sweet communion in hospital corridors.
More coming on the two goobers meeting Ivy.
Hugs and love.