Tessa Patience, how wonderful you are. I thought for the longest time I would be the mom of two, then your Papa and I had a talk. A talk about a daughter that we wanted. We had our Eden and we love her, we had our Josiah and we love him, but there was still need, still room for our little pea. We had that talk and before your Mama was even ready we were in the midst of growing you. And you grew through that first year summer and fall of Kindergarten with all the emotions that ensued. You grew as I taught a semester of art classes, and all my students were excited for you to arrive. Christmas came and went, we were anticipating everything that could happen if you came on Christmas. But we waited, and your Uncle Kirk and Aunt Sarah really wanted to meet you during their visit, but you took your time. Then when my midwife thought we couldn’t wait much longer you decided to come. Unknowingly, we left that appointment and went with your brother, sister and Grandma to Chik-fil-A. I was feeling weak the whole time. We ran into friends, and I remembered saying how “done” I felt. Then when we came home and I was having contractions. I felt like you were going to fall out. I called your Papa, I was calm. I spoke quietly as I talked with your brother and sister. I timed my contractions. I forced myself to walk and not sit down. I went over details with your Grandma. Then I called my midwife, “Go to the hospital right away, let’s get the antibiotics started” Ugh, needles. But your Papa came home to my wary smile. I was so ready to have you, yet not looking forward to the pain. We kissed the big kids and drove off. I waved to our neighbor Amber and kept my tears in as I told her,”we’re going to have a baby!” She wished us luck with a huge excited smile. I sobbed as we drove. I wasn’t looking forward to the pain, but I wanted you so badly. Our Tessa, you were on your way!
Everyone was hopeful and optimistic that it would be quick. Mama’s body was “stretchy” they said. My water was still in tact, that’s good, they said. We hung out with the midwife and chatted, it got harder. Then Lori, the midwife, had to leave. I was worried, I really wanted her to stay. They were pumping me full of antibiotics, wanting you to be infection free. Your sister wasn’t so lucky, but she was fine, and I know you would be too, but it’s a hospital and you have to play by their rules. Sometimes. It got hard, really hard, when the nurse told me I had to get out of the warm shower and back into the bed. Your heartbeat was tacky. And I labored, through the hardest part, on my back in bed. It was so wrong, but I had to play by the rules, to keep you healthy and soon it would be over. Break my water please! I want Tessa here! The doctor waited to see that the drugs were all in and then you came quickly. You were bigger than your sister that’s for sure. I could feel it. I wanted you out quickly, but the doctor she knew. She saved your Mama more pain. She was a drill sargent but I thank God for her. You came, you were wonderful, perfect, fine, in every way. I held you in my arms. What a big girl, 9 lbs!
Your Mama wasn’t as OK. The doctor was a gift from God that night as she kept me safe. And God knew, that even though the discomfort wasn’t quite over, He prepared me with extra iron to keep me safe. He knew, he knew that we carried that blessing. The blessing of health and ease. Thank you Lord, you are good. The pain is brief, and the outcome is good. We have our Tessa. Our little harvester is here. She will change our lives forever. I prayed against fear, worry, anxiety. And even the struggle with those things was worth it. We have you.
On New Year’s Eve last year we came home. Your Papa went back out to get Mama’s pain medicines and I sat on the couch with you my quiet, sweet, bundle as I heard the fireworks go off all around us. What a celebration you are my darlin’. Everyone was celebrating with us. Today you are a year old. What a quick year that was. But Tessa, you will always be that reminder that God has more for us. We were not complete, and He gave us a new joy. The joy you bring your brother and sister is infectious. They needed you too. Happy Birthday dear one. I love you.