"How many kids do you have?"
"Three, just like you."
My doctor had just lifted Elizabeth out of me and was currently sewing me back up. I laid there feeling a pulling in my abdomen as I chatted with my doctor. I could hear my baby girl crying from the corner of the room and was gasping for air out of relief. The baby had rested high and for nearly five months my lungs had been unable to expand to their full capacity disabling my breath.
We hadn't planned this one. She was an accident. And the most wonderful mistake we ever made in our lives. I was crying all the same.
I don't believe in God. But each time I see a sleeping babe I am convinced that they came from Heaven. Where else could something so beautiful come from?
My husband kissed the top of my head as a cleaned, bundled Elizabeth was placed down beside my face. I kissed the little white and pink face through my tears. In a moment she was carried away and my husband followed her to the nursery.
I laid there wide awake looking around the room. The stainless steel surrounding me. What else was there to do besides chat with my doctor as she put me back together. Visions of the show House flashed through my head. I knew what was happening on the other side of the sheet in front of me.
Don't think about that. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and began to study the room. My cousin was a nurse in that hopsital and she was able to assist my doctor in delivering my baby. Periodically I looked for her or called out. It would be another twenty minutes before I would be taken to the recovery room.
A flash of metal caught my eye as I glanced at the metal cabinets. I could see the tools in the doctor's hand reflected in the cabinet - And beside me I could see . . . well . . . me. It didn't scare me or make me sick. I was curiously interested in the miracle before me. There I was wide awake on the table. I had been opened and my child taken out of me. I had spent that time talking, crying, laughing, and memorizing and now, I was watching my own surgery.
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