Trail heads

I love tramping ("hiking" outside of New Zealand). I am always excited to arrive at a new trail head full of wonder about what new sites we will see, what new challenges we will face, what new experiences we will have on this trail. Each tramp is different, even when it is over a familiar trail. The birth of our new granddaughter, Elinor, at only 26 weeks has made me think once again about the wonder of life and how unique it is to each of us.

We often judge life by our own experiences. The way we perceive it is, of course, what is normal. We forget how very different each life is. Just look at the beginnings--Eli is leading us down a new trail, blazed by others before us, but a new and wondrous experience for us. We've not had to deal with the separation forced by life-saving technology in previous babies.

But, each baby has had its own trail--Gabe, our first grandson, was also premature, with the extra anxiety of not knowing if we going to be able to keep him. Plus, we've had half a world of distance between us and him. It has been like looking through the window of a candy store. So near, yet so far.

Thinking back to our own children, the trail heads have all been unique, some even scary. Libby, with an APGAR score of only 6, was born a yellowish, waxy thing with her cord around her neck--very much like a baby doll. At the time we didn't know that this wasn't perfectly normal. Fortunately, quick care in the delivery room overcame this rough start. Little did we know that hers would be our most 'normal' delivery.

Jamie was three weeks overdue and big. When inducing delivery, the doctor couldn't even find any amniotic fluid remaining. His head was the size of a bowling ball. Karen has never forgiven him for that! We were doing the natural delivery thing and so were being stoic. She had to have stitches to repair the damage he did. During his post natal testing he pee'd on the nurse. She kept in touch with us for a long time. I think they bonded.

John was also overdue and had to be induced. Karen was being super-mom and went home from hospital after only one day. "Got two kids at home to take care of." We had to take him back to the hospital for some of the tests they normally perform within the first three days. I recall them taking blood from his foot and him not even waking up. Talk about laid back! I also recall the surprise we had when he was born. I believe Karen's comment was, "What's that thing?" We had to take the pink outfit back and exchange it for a blue one.

Molly was born three days after we buried Karen's dad. She was a real blessing! Doctor Logan was an Aussie, so when Molly was born, he announced, "It's a sheila!" The nurses nicknamed her, "Mad Molly" because she was always hollering, raising her head, and hungry. The nickname has stuck. Feisty, you don't mess with Molly. She's a lot like her mother.

Peter was the only baby who wasn't induced since Libby was born. We didn't realize the drama we would have at his birth. He ended up being an emergency C-section because the placenta was detaching and he wasn't getting enough oxygen. The option for another natural birth was taken from us and we started down another new trail. Years of watching his development and comparing it to average scores led us to finally accept that those final few moments before birth had robbed him of some of the abilities we had taken for granted in all our other children.

And so each life has led us down its own unique, wonderful trail. I just love tramping.

For more information about our grand babies, follow the links to Water, Woods, and Wool and also Lightening Guns.