My rushed delivery on Friday was probably the oddest and in some ways the saddest delivery I've ever been in on.
The mom came in with little prenatal care. She told us she was moving from Illinoise to Florida, and was just passing through. (Though Greenwood is not exactly on the way...) She had lost her insurance and so could only go to a free clinic, where she was told her due date was at the end of July.
She also told us almost immediately that she wanted to give the baby up for adoption, she thought, but she and her husband (who was there with her) still needed to talk about it. In between the every 2 minute contractions, I tried to talk to her about some of her options - since she hadn't yet made any arrangements about adoption. She and her husband thought they had more time before the baby came, so they hadn't really decided on anything. I even mentioned that I know someone who wants to adopt and has their paperwork ready, but they said they just couldn't make a decision yet. It was also strange, though, because she told us she was 34 and this was her first child. And she was married. Not the usual kind of person who wants to give their baby up. Her reasons for giving the baby up had more to do with her mom than what she or her husband wanted. It was all very odd and didn't really make much sense. But since I didn't have much time to talk with her before the baby was there, I couldn't really press her on anything.
Neither she nor her husband wanted to see the baby after he was born, she just wanted me to tell her if it was a boy or girl. He came out a handsome, squawking boy, with a fuzzy light brown hair and a cute nose. He looked just like his mother. I got him delivered, and then the nurses took him almost immediately back to the nursery, something that is very rare at our hospital - babies always just stay in mom's room. Later they both asked me if he looked alright, wanting to make sure he had all ten fingers and ten toes. I went and counted those sweet little fingers. He did.
She also had told us that this was her first delivery - that she had had no other children. Judging, though, by the one-push speed with which she progressed from 8cm to complete to crowning I find that hard to believe.
Less than two hours later, I was paged by the nurses who told me that Mom wanted to leave and had already taken out her own IV. I went and spoke to her and told her that she could begin hemorrhaging and even die, but she was insistent. I again tried to talk to her about her options, but at this point she tried to say that she and her husband just needed to talk about it, privately, and that there were just too many people around, but that she thought they'd keep him. She said they'd come back after they discussed it. She also said (and I quote) "I really need a cigarette. I just can't stay. I also need an iced coffee from McDonald's somethin' fierce."
So she signed her papers and left. And hasn't been heard from since. The baby's urine drug screen, not surprisingly, was positive for cocaine and opiates. And now there is a beautiful baby boy without a name. Without a family.
I am certainly thankful that they at least did the right thing by coming and having him at the hospital, and by choosing to carry him to term. But it is hard for me to fathom being able to leave your newborn son at the hospital all because you need an iced coffee and a cigarrette. My heart just aches for this little one.
I've been praying that as DSS gets involved they will be able to find him a wonderful family who will love him they way he needs to be loved. Hopefully, they will also be a family who can teach him about the way our heavenly Father adopts us into his family - brought forever into a loving family, into an unfathomable kingdom together with the one whose blood was shed for us.