So it’s the final day. We have made it very well through the last week. I have been playing memories, situations, words in my head all week that happened a year ago. I remember specific events with specific people. I don’t find as much saddness because we lost Noah, I just remember being there. Truth is because we lost Noah a year ago, and I think we have worked hard in the last year to deal with that. So during this time, it is the memories that are flooding unconsciously into my mind. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by them, but for the most part we were able to enjoy normal, everyday life through this week of remembrance.

I want to say thank you for remembering Noah. We will never forget, and it is so nice to hear that you will not either. We received flowers, cards, emails, comments that have really touched us. They were the words of God comforting us on the hard days, they were God’s hands hugging us through a sweet card, most of all they were reminders that Noah touched your life too.

I went into labor a year ago tonight. I was scheduled to be induced the following morning, May 3, but Noah beat them to that. Because I don’t want to have to think about what to write or not write in the following days, I will recount from Noah’s journal and scrapbook.

MAY 2
6:15 pm: After finishing dinner at Salt Grass your mother’s water broke, and Nana insisted I take your mom to the hospital. (That’s right I had chicken fried steak before labor) Don’t go home (we had no bags), do not collect $200. Your mom was cool and collected as usual. We took everybody including your sister.

6:45 pm: They don’t have a room at the hospital so your mom is standing in the waiting room. Steve came and got Alyssa and Oma went to our house.

7:15 pm: Finally got a room and after 20 minutes they come in and hook your mom up to the machines.

8:15 pm: The nurse comes in to check mom.

9:09 pm: Nana wants to know after watching a commercial if I would jump off a waterfall. Ummm, no. Papa is pacing the room, seems really excited jingling the change in his pockets. I’m on the couch. Mom’s in the bed. Nana’s in the chair. Excitement abounds. Wait till Steve and Brad get here.

9:26 pm: Nana cracks a good one. I’ll get her back.

9:37 pm: Steve almost drops TV on the floor, didn’t spill cheetos. Nice. (This was a classic moment.)

10:47 pm: Nurses checks me.

11:00 pm: Nana, Papa, Steve and Brad go home. Daddy and I think we will try to get some sleep. The contractions are coming but not too strong yet.

MAY 3
12:00 am: Daddy is still trying to sleep. I am not having much luck. Too many things going through my mind. The contractions seem to be random still. I am waiting for my next one.

2:00 am: Dad’s up because the nurse needed to start an IV.

4:50 am: Woke up anesthesologist for an epidural.

6:30 am: Still at a 4, starting Pitocin to jump start the process.

7:00 am: Stopped Pitocin, and waiting on doctor.

7:30 am: Doctor worried about heart rate so they put a monitor on your head. They are going to wait an hour to monitor more closely.

8:27 am: 10cm, waiting on the doctor.

That is where the log stopped. I finished it hours later as I sat in the room surrounded by friends, but no Noah.

10:30 am: They tell me that is when you were born at 9:01 am. Everything seemed to be going fine. doctor arrived and you were born shortly. You did not cry and that made me very nervous. The doctor had to suction alot of stuff out of your lungs and then we had nurses and everyone in here trying to help you. The said you were 6 lbs 15 oz. You were pink and heart rate looked good, but they are concerned with your breathing right now. We are waiting for the neonatologist to come and fill us in. I still have not seen or held you.

4:45 pm: Nana, Papa, Ann, Tiff, Kedra, Jen, April and Steve and cousins have been around most of the day. Everyone loves you so much and wants to make sure you are okay. Daddy and I have been into see you twice. The nurse says it gets you excited so we are not supposed to stay long. The main concern now is to get the fluid out of your lungs You are doing much better right now. They had your oxygen at 100 and when we visited it was down to 65. They will continue to turn it down until you are breathing on your own. They have tubes in your nose for the oxygen and a tube in your stomach to vent the air. I have been able to touch you but not hold you.

NOAH’S SCRAPBOOK