I always have something to say.
It is extremely rare to find me silent or tongue tied. Extremely rare. However, when you find me quiet…there is usually a reason.
- I am sick. Like physically.
- I am sick. Like ‘sick and tard’ of other humans.
- I am sick. Like I have reached my ‘be the center of attention‘ limit for the month and I need to recharge. Or…
- I am transfixed.
Now me being transfixed can come in many different forms. One day I got transfixed on Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez and spent hours researching their entire lives until I was satisfied with the amount of knowledge I had gained. I get transfixed on the research of Native American students. I get transfixed on Avengers or Pirates of the Caribbean. The new Adele CD. Cartoons. Cleaning. Basically, I cannot multi-task. Once I have given my mind to something, I give it 100% of my attention.
Yesterday I had the opportunity to sit in a hospital room completely transfixed by something that has always amazed me and scared the crap out of me, child birth.
If you know me then you know very well that I do not handle small humans, child birth, pain or prego bellies very well. I think that we are always so afraid of things that we cannot understand or have no experience with. Or at least, that’s my excuse.
As I entered Jessica’s hospital room in the labor and delivery unit after praying and crying all the way from Greensboro, I was immediately transfixed. First of all, Jessica was nearly silent. And if you know Jessica, she, like me, loves to talk and laugh and giggle. But here she lay in her hospital bed, nearly silent. I thrive off the energy of others and her energy clearly told me to sit down, shut up and don’t ask any questions.
So I did.
Usually when we are forced to sit with no wi-fi, no book and no entertainment we become quickly distracted.
I found it very difficult to get distracted as I realized that right in front of me God was preparing life to enter into this world. I was transfixed.
If it was socially acceptable to stare at people without blinking I would have stared at Jessica, Chris and the nurse for the next few hours. But you see, that’s weird so I had to pretend to talk to other people and look at my phone…yea yea yea.
Don’t get me wrong. The entire physical notion of child birth nauseates me and makes me queasy. It was not the biological aspect that transfixed me, but the chemical, social, emotional and mental aspect.
It’s hard to watch anyone in pain, but it is extremely hard when: 1) you love that person, 2) there is absolutely nothing you can do and 3) you have absolutely positively NO idea what they are going through. But to watch a young woman endure the pain required for her body to prepare to give birth to new life was extraordinary.
I wish I could have asked a million questions but there was no need for words.
Sweet caresses. Ice water. Lots of nurses. Contractions. Dim lights. Family. Friends. Love.
I hope Ryder knows how much love filled the room yesterday. I hope he knew that his entrance into this world was literally, like for real, a labor of love from his parents. I cannot wait to tell him how absolutely beautiful his mother was and I cannot wait to tell him the love we all witnessed between his parents.
Ryder, oh dear child, you are so loved.
Welcome to the world.
Ryder Devon Spaulding
7 glorious pounds and 11 sweet ounces. 22 remarkable inches and one quarter.