Since our grandson, Baby C #3, is due in a month, it’s high time I finally write out this story from when Baby C #2 was born – a year-and-a-half ago!
She didn’t know all the tense hours we had just been through when she knocked on the hospital room door announcing, “Housekeeping.”
Pointing to her nametag, this diminutive woman almost squeaked in her high pitched voice, “My name is Kelly. I understand you need paper towels. I’m sorry my friend forgot to bring you these earlier.”
It’s true we had requested paper towels hours before, but we’d made it through the night just fine using cloth towels Jake found in the cabinet.
Kerith was in labor with Harper. What at first appeared to be an uncomplicated birth had taken a turn in the night when Kerith’s heartbeat kept dipping dangerously low with every contraction. She would get a little dizzy and have some trouble catching her breath, and then her heartrate would soar right back to normal or above. The monitor looked like a roller coaster ride.
More medicine was given to slow the contractions, and later a cardiology team wheeled in with its high tech equipment. An EKG and an ultrasound on Kerith’s heart resulted in the good news that her heart showed no abnormality and that labor could resume. While still uncertain of the cause of her heart’s irregularity, the best guess was that it was some sort of reaction to the epidural.
While no one panicked in those hours, we certainly prayed. Kyrie and I tried to sleep in the waiting room while the labor was put on hold, and Jake and Kerith waited for cardiology.
I had noticed Kelly in the hospital dining room the evening before. Hardly anyone was there and I remember wondering what her story was and what her job was at the hospital. She looked out of place somehow, though I couldn’t tell you why.
Kelly put the paper towels in the dispenser and spoke to Kerith, still hooked up to machines and in the bed. “Hi Sweetie. Do you know what you’re having?”
Kerith answered with a smile, “a girl.”
“Congratulations!” And then she put her hand to her heart and said, “You’re in my prayers.”
I watched from my spot on the little couch in the room as tears came to my eyes. It was an interchange that lasted only a couple minutes, but it was such an encouragement at that time.
I thought of all the ways Kelly had been kind in those few minutes. She’d walked in to the room with a smile (and paper towels). She did not speak ill of the person who had cleaned the room prior and not refilled the paper towels. She asked Jake and Kerith about the baby, and she cared. She put all her attention on them and shared in their joy. Then she promised to pray.
Did Kelly have children of her own? I don’t know. She wore no rings. Was she one who cleaned rooms? I don’t know. She wasn’t wearing clothes that looked like a housekeeping uniform. She seemed so different – her look, her voice, her manner. Was she an angel? I don’t know.
What I do know is that Kelly’s kindness touched us. It was a soothing sweet spot in a somewhat traumatic ordeal. It brought us back to the celebration of this child to be born. It reminded us of God’s loving care.
Hours later, as Kerith’s labor intensified, I noticed the nurse at the nurses’ station paying very close attention to Kerith’s monitor screen. I mentioned that it was good the baby’s heartbeat had stayed strong, and the nurse gave me a questioning look and she said, “Strong enough.”
When it came time for Harper to be born, the room seemed to suddenly fill with medical personnel. The doctor was there to deliver, plus the nurse who had been watching Kerith, and several others whose roles I didn’t know.
The doctor called it a “double necklace” as he quickly twice swiped the umbilical cord from around baby Harper’s neck before laying her on her mom. A nurse stood close and said to Kerith and Jake, “I might need to take her,” just before Harper let out a wail – then the nurse pulled back.
I surmise there was likely more going on than we had been told, at least with baby Harper. But once Harper started crying, the tension receded and the extra medical personnel left the room.
While many had done their jobs well that day, and our family was blessed with beautiful Harper Grace, the memory of Kelly’s kindness lingered with me. It reminded me that I never know how much my kind words and actions might touch someone – perhaps even reach them when they need it most.