For my darling Liza

                                                           ~Liza and her boy Enzo~

                                                         ~Liza and Grandma Polly~

When I was 22, I had a pretty sweet life. We lived in a lovely, little apartment on the avenues of Salt Lake City. We didn’t have much in the way of money, but we had lots of fun and a beautiful daughter with big dark eyes and a charming smile who I absolutely adored. We played and she giggled. We spent days at the park,we hiked and we swam. It was a very easy, happy time. When she was 6 months old I found I was expecting another. I was scared, sick and slightly overwhelmed at having two babies  that would be 15 months apart and  a bit saddened with my dream of returning to school to finish my degree now being put on the back burner~  but I knew that I was up for the challenge and was happy at the opportunity to share our love with another child. I always wanted a quiver full of kiddies and so with very little money but lots of love to share, we were so excited to add another dark eyed child to join the first.

In the early morning hours of April 17^th and me at 7 months, I woke up from a groggy sleep to find that there were problems with the little one. I sat in the bathroom crying and afraid. My sweetie joined me and tried hard to reassure me that all would okay. We called the doctor and were told to immediately come to the hospital. I was so shaky that I could hardly get dressed. We woke up sweet Jess and after wrapping her in a blanket,  set off for an unknowing future. When we arrived, I was immediately whisked away and examined by two Interns who sent me to have an ultrasound. I remember looking out the door and seeing my husband and little baby girl and wishing that I could just wake up from this dream or nightmare and it would be me snuggling with my baby girl.

Shortly thereafter, we were told that I had placenta previa and that most likely I would be in the hospital until I delivered. We were told in all likelihood the baby would be born early and the risks of me bleeding uncontrollably were inevitable. I was heartbroken and so afraid for the baby and me but also sad that I wouldn’t spend my days with  our baby, Jess. I have never been one to lie around so this was going to be a very interesting trial. But I decided those first few hours that my goal was to have a healthy baby and whatever it took to do that, I would do. I didn’t then realize what that meant. I spent 7 lonely weeks in a hospital room. Not able to get up from that bed, using a bed pan and not having a “real” shower were some of the worst parts of that time. My nurses were sweet and caring though and became some of my dearest friends. My room became a place they would come at breaks and lunch time to chat. It saved me from days on end of loneliness and just plain ol’ boredom. But I read books, I sewed a blanket, I watched a bit of TV. My sister, Kathi, came up a number of times and brought me “real” food from McDonald's and put up posters to decorate my room.  My Mom and Dad came up one night and we watched family slides~ it was the best! I visited with many neighborhood friends. Larry, who I had grown up with, surprised me with a visit and when he had been there for over an hour he told me he had better go as his wife and child were downstairs in the car waiting. What!! I’m sure she was mad~ I would have been! But what a great friend he has been to our family and I was grateful for his visit. Even a few friends from high school days came and it was great to reminisce and forget about the trauma that was playing out in my room. At least once a week, and always in the middle of the night, I would start bleeding and the drama would begin. It was scary seeing that much blood and feeling the little one tossing and turning. The doctors and nurses would be right at my side waiting and watching for things to subside. I have never prayed as hard as I did during those nights. I remember the days passing and watching out my window as the landscape turned from a drab early spring to a blooming summer.

On May 31^st, I was given an x-ray right there in my room to see how the little one was positioned so my doc would be able to do an amniocentesis to check the readiness of the little one’s lungs. I was beyond excited and all went extremely well. At three that afternoon I rec’d a phone call from the doc telling me that the baby looked great, the lungs were mature enough and she would be taken by cesarean the next day. “Yippee!” I shouted, right into the phone. He laughed and told me that he would see me early the next morning. I didn’t sleep at all that night and as if the drama had to continue, I started bleeding again with no end in sight. Then suddenly, it stopped and I dozed. By then it was 6am, my sweetie was there and I was being prepped and then wheeled down that lonely hallway to an operating room.

I will never forget waking up in the recovery room. It was like a sunlit dream! I made it through and was told that we had another lovely, dark haired girl and that she was healthy and strong. As I was being wheeled back to my room we made a little stop at the nursery. I couldn’t stop crying when I gazed at this darling  baby who had lots of curly dark hair and HUGE dark eyes that gazed up at me with such love. I cried and cried; I was so happy to have her healthy and here.

Tomorrow, that beautiful dark haired baby girl is turning 33. She has been an absolute blessing to us every day. She is smart, caring, funny, and beautiful. She is a best friend to her sisters and brother and now the star of everyday in the life of Enzo, her adorable son. I know God answers prayers. I only have to look at Liza to see that He does.

Happy Birthday our darling, sweet Liza Lou!