A few weeks ago, my daughter Christina and her husband’s parents, Michael and Sheila Noakes began an ambitious project of remodeling their spare bedroom to transform it into a beautiful, well-organized babies’ nursery–yes, babies’ as in two, who are scheduled to arrive in the Spring. After getting the walls painted just the perfect soft baby hues, and installing several shelves and two separate rods (one for Baby A (the boy) and Baby B (the girl), Michael and Sheila went home exhausted and severely under the weather. The Noakes never quit until a project is completed to their satisfaction, even if it means practically crawling onto their return flight home to Sacramento. They’re just such pioneer stock! 🙂
On Monday, it was my turn to pick up where they left off. That was the deal–Mama and Papa Noakes would prepare the nursery and supply the babies’ furniture–and Mama Mel and Papa Roy would supply all the beddings and all the remaining decorative touches. It seemed like a really good deal…I was going to get to do the easy part right? I flew in from Texas and arrived around 10:00 pm on Monday. Christina eagerly awaited my arrival. Not only did I arrive to decorate and finish the nursery, but also to keep her company while Shelby was in Park City, Utah at his annual T-mobile company retreat. I basically had three solid days to finish the task at hand and would depart on Friday morning, just hours before Shelby returned.
Being Blissfully Miserable
Today, as I relive the experience, I felt compelled to share it with all of you, my loyal blog readers. And, I’m going to start by giving you the ending. I returned back to Texas Friday afternoon, climbed into bed, with every bone in my little body aching, my neck unable to turn to the right, and as I laid in my bed I thought of how BLISSFULLY miserable I felt. I just had to laugh, and as I began to recollect all that had transpired, it begs the question, “Why am I so gleefully grateful for this experience, even as I lay here aching all over from sifting through every baby store in the entire Phoenix shopping landscape to find the perfect bedding, and then getting home and washing every single item to make sure that they were free of any alien invisible microbe that might have been transmitted while they were being constructed in China (have you noticed everything is made in China) before installing it into our new rearranged baby furniture (guess who had to rearrange it–since I couldn’t really say, “Hey Chrissy, can you grab the other end?). I hauled the new perfect rug into the house–it was tying all of those perfect baby hues together…and honestly, our goal was to have a really ‘happy” baby nursery, and oh my gosh, it was definitely looking really happy. Chrissy and Shelby also have the blessing of having truly generous friends who brought them bags and bags of baby clothes, barely worn by their own set of twins. So, it was a perfect plan, we would wash all of them and then hang them individually in each of the waiting rods, according to size and color. Well, let’s just say Baby B’s pink side definitely doesn’t need any more clothes until next year! Chrissy was a huge help for this segment because she could just sit on the floor and fold these tiny itty bitty t-shirts and pajamas and the cutest outfits only serious baby boutique shoppers can buy! Each time we hung an outfit, it was accompanied with “OHHHH SO CUTE!” We were in heaven, and of course, everything had that wonderful baby scent made possible by Dreft baby detergent. Every now and then I had to stop and just savour the moment…I couldn’t believe I was getting an opportunity to do this…Who knew, fast forward, 29 years later, that I would be lying in bed after the completion of this task, and smiling from ear to ear, even with its accompanying aches and pains. Before I closed my tired eyes, while rubbing the bottom of my aching feet on the soft cool sheets, and burrowed further into my thick duvet, I said, “Thank you Heavenly Father for enabling me to be in Arizona and granting me such a priceless experience.” Those words of gratitude were not only spoken because of this specific experience shared with Chrissy these last three days, but an expression of gratitude for the journey I’ve had being Christina’s mother. God knew this is what I meant…thank you for a journey that really began seven months before she was even born, on December 1979. That December, was clearly one of the most difficult months of my life, one of those “refiner’s fire” moments when my entire character constitution was tested. That December of 1979, I made a decision that enables me now to reap the rewards of a faithful heart.
A Deep Dark December…I learned to follow my heart…and rely on the power of prayer
What was that decision? It was the decision to NOT abort the baby I was carrying, despite urgent advise from renowned medical experts to do so due to the state of my ill health at the time of my conception. I will spare you the details, but I can remember the very day I was told this news as if it was just yesterday. I even remember the drive home alone in my car, huge tears just streaming down my face, while weaving in and out of LA traffic. I can remember that very moment, but I can’t remember how I actually made it home. I could barely see through the tears. I asked God, “Is my life not already difficult enough as it is, that I have to be faced with this for the next seven months? In 1979, I was on the staff of Chancellor Young, the head of UCLA. I was also the only breadwinner in the family because my husband was a full time student, continuing his graduate work in Orthodontics at UCLA. We also were already the parents of two little toddlers, 19 months apart, Joanna 3, and Miristi not even 2! And the sudden news of “No you’re not going to die, but by the way, you’re pregnant… Oh, one more item…after much collaboration (among UCLA MD’s) we don’t think you should continue with the pregnancy!” The lesson learned that day? If you think things are tough, remember, they can always get tougher!
I was sobbing on the drive home because even though I told them I would consult with my husband and return with a decision, I already knew even before I left the medical office that there is no way I could abort this two-month old fetus growing within me…I knew all I could from that day onward– for the next seven months–was pray that I would be granted the strength to handle whatever was in store for us.
And, for the next seven months that followed that is exactly what I did: PRAY and PRAY CONTINUOUSLY ! Sometimes at work, sometimes in the car, you name the place, I’ve probably prayed there too. And as my belly grew, I would often rub it to see if I could feel a foot, a hand, something that could assuage my fears. And it was probably a good thing that I had so much to do, still working full time at UCLA, two toddlers to prepare for daycare every morning, and pick-up after work…there were days when I could barely walk up the stairs to our tiny apartment. Miristi who was still just a baby herself, would grab her highchair and push it towards the table and say, “Food Mama!” The days were long for everybody. But relief from all of this was just around the corner. Dr. Gee’s graduate studies were soon coming to a close, and he had already chosen the tiny town of Pleasant Grove, Utah to open his orthodontic practice. He was coming home to his native Utah. We purchased a home in advance for our arrival into Utah, and because of the concerns of complications during my delivery, I found an OB and a neonatal specialist in Utah. Can you imagine, establishing a new home, a new practice, and being 9 months pregnant too? (Makes preparing Chrissy’s nursery seem like a cruise huh?)
An Answered Prayer
On June 25, 1980, Christina was born! I was so afraid I kept my eyes tightly closed, until Dr. Bigler said, “Mel, open your eyes…take a look…she’s perfect!” I sobbed and sobbed. All the nurses were so happy…they loved her instantly…with her heart-shaped face and lots of dark hair which they would comb and part, and place two bows on either side…sometimes purple, sometimes pink…but they changed her bows every day. My faith had been rewarded. I placed all my faith in God, and not in the wisdom of these learned men, whom I know were just trying to look out for my “mental health”…and seriously there were days when I came close to losing it…but I hung on because there were already two little ones counting one me, saying, “Food Mama!”
I named her Christina after the Christ whose name I prayed to on her behalf. (Instead of her father’s suggestion of Penny (because her face was shaped like a penny) and Pleasant (because we now resided in Pleasant Grove). He agreed that Christina was a better choice.
29 years later, here were are, awaiting Christina’s own miracles to arrive. And as before, we continue to spend time on our knees in fervent prayer. May Christina and Shelby be granted the gifts that faith brings. Because of my faith, the world gained one more kind, loving individual. She truly lives up to her name. I am blessed to not only be her Mama, but to five others just like her…ok, there are slight variations on the mold…and speaking of just like her…in two weeks, I get to repeat the process as I prepare another nursery for her eldest sister, Joanna, who is expecting baby Violet. Joanna’s strength (of Olympic proportion) demonstrated during her own pregnancy challenges makes mine seem mild.
If we could all see into the future, I wonder how it would impact the decisions we make today?
I had no idea how much JOY was in store for me in my future during those deep dark lonely days in 1979. I have learned that JOY comes at a price.
And I try never to forget that with every new challenge I face today. No matter how overwhelming they may seem. We can find the strength to carry on. JOY is just around the corner.
I can’t wait to nuzzle all the new babies in our family…where there’s plenty of love to go around!
