First Easter Do-Over

This was Macie's first Easter.

She was 11 days old.
We went to visit her in the hospital in the afternoon.
Charlie was in Arizona with his cousins.

I went into her room alone.
We were still keeping the chaos of our children away from our healing daughter,
Who needed all of the peace and quiet she could get.
Just three days earlier she was finally clear of her two chest tubes, ventilator and arterial line.

Andy let me go first.
While he played with Ephram in the many kid-focused waiting rooms Evergreen Hospital holds -
I held my little girl for the longest time yet.

40 minutes.

And I stared at her for hours longer.


I remember it being an overwhelmingly peaceful and calming visit.

I remember feeling like we were being pushed to happy places,
And by pushed, I mean that I could feel the prayers and energy of friends and family
Pushing into my baby's room.
It was that palpable.
And I was so glad for it.

I sheepishly went out to the lobby after something like three hours to give Andy his turn.
I hadn't meant to stay so long before giving him the chance to see his daughter,
But I was pulled to her and I just couldn't leave that room.
Because while things were so much better than they had been days before,
My baby was still in a hospital on her first Easter.

We couldn't bring anything to put in her bed yet.
No little stuffed bunnies.
No shirts that said My First Easter.
I didn't pick her up from bed as we woke in the morning.
Instead, I woke well-rested.
Not the way a mother of an 11-day old should be.
We couldn't bring her downstairs with us in the morning to peek at what had been left to find.
I couldn't hold her freely.
I couldn't even nurse her.

So although I was so grateful and happy and relieved,
There was conflict in knowing that it wasn't quite right.

I wished my baby girl a Happy Easter.
I spoke with her about the miracle that we celebrate with this holiday.
The miracle of life.
And how appropriate that seemed given the eleven days we'd just survived.
And then I promised her that the next Easter would be a little more enjoyable.

So this Easter, 2013,
Was not my baby's first Easter.
Technically her last "first" holiday was St. Patrick's Day.
But I don't care, I gave her a first Easter do-over.
We had a fantastically wonderful day.
(Even if we did have some pretty good colds.)
And I still gave thanks for my own little miracle of life.