Monday, January 29, 2018

January 28. The best day.

19 years ago this day felt like the worst day of my life. January 28, 1999. The day I walked through the doors of a church and into a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. It was not my first AA meeting. I had been to many after a stay in a locked psych ward and then a stint in a fancy rehab.  

This however was the first time I would walk through the doors desperately seeking help.  Not a reprieve from judgement or a break from consequences.  I wanted what they had: a better life.  On January 28, 1999 the truth was my life had no where to go but up.

Since that day January 28 has been an incredible day in my life.  

January 28, 2000.  The day a group of rag tag misfits would sing happy birthday to me, give me a metal token with a 1 on it and ask me "How did you do it?" Knowing that my answer would be the same as the millions who came before me.

On the days in between the passing January 28s I would do was I was taught from the fierce women of Alcoholics Anonymous.  I would willingly work hard, not drink or get high and try to do the next right thing.  I would seek God's will for my life before I even knew what that phrase meant or had a clue what that will might be.  My story was not unique, it is the same story of grit and surrender of every alcoholic that gained and maintained sobriety before me.  It is a story of my powerlessness and God's power. 

Eventually January 28 became a day that I recognized as a passing milestone, like my belly button birthday it was a day to reflect on how life had changed.  A day to be grateful for all God had done and a day for people who loved me to celebrate my life. 2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15 the years ticked on as they do into numbers I thought I'd never see. Cards, cakes, numbered tokens and happy birthday songs.

And then. 
January 28, 2015.  

I woke just as the time ticked past midnight with fierce pain and some wetness on my nightgown.  I wasn't quite sure what was happening or that anything significant had happened. I had become accustomed to my giant belly and the weird things happening to my body because of it.  I figured maybe I had wet the bed. It wouldn't be the first time I'd lose control of my functions but it would be the first time I'd wet the bed.  Nyasha gently encouraged me to get in the bath and he cleaned up.

After a little soak in the tub and a husband who was monitoring the time we came to the realization that I was headed into the hospital.  The entire 15 minute car ride through the dark, silent, frigid Michigan night I said one thing "I'm not ready!!"

You see this was my third trip into the hospital that day. In the early morning I had my regular weekly appointment where my doctor said, "See you next week, if nothing has changed we will talk about inducing you then!"

A few hours later when we made a pitstop for doughnuts (for Nyasha who on this long visit to the USA was introduced to Tim Hortons by his brother in law) I began bleeding and my doctor said to head on in.  A few hours later I was once again sent home with these words, "You are not having this baby tonight."

Those words which gave me more time. Another day to tick off a to do list:
  1. Pedicure
Honestly I remember nothing else on the list because all I cared about was getting my nails done. 

On the quick drive in, there were a few "I'm not ready I haven't gotten a pedicure." To which Nyasha might have replied, "That is your greatest concern?"  He may need to make an amends.

When we got in the wheelchair
At the hospital the rest of my water broke and everyone else around me realized what was happening, although I was still focused on my impending pedicure.

A little bit later when the nurse would state that I was dilated to 4, I would ask when I could go home and sleep.  She would
laugh and tell me I wasn't going home without my baby.  I would cry about a pedicure. Everyone would laugh and say something about my flare for the dramatics.

I would lose my ability
To hold back tears over my disappointment that I was not spending this day getting
My toes attended to.  Then I would remember I was going to meet my baby.  This cycle would continue.

23 hours later I would look around the room to see the greatest miracle.  The picture of January 28, 2015 is one for me that will always be painted with love.  My aunts had been in and out of that room all day and night. My grandma never left. My husband cheered me on and complained about how tired he was to which my response was eye rolling, especially when all the women in my life doted on his exhausted self. As if!  And then. My bff and had gotten a text in the wee hours of the morning  that I was being admitted. She
made arrangements for her own baby and got in the car. Ten hours later she ran in afraid she had missed it. She got there just in time to walk me through the hardest minutes of my life when baby wasn't responding as planned and the conversations started turning towards "emergency c section."  Natalie calmly said, "Girl, you can do this."  The hand that held my on the darkest days held mine now and we knew it was true.

And they said I could have one shot to push.  And I took it. Powered by the love and encouragement of people who had known me at my worst and this gift of a husband who believed I could.  I prepped for the next contraction and I yelled out, "do you known that today is my AA birthday? I'm 16!"  A few minutes later my little girl, feisty and tiny with a full head of straight jet black hair would be placed in my arms for the first time.  With less than an hour to go she was born on my special day.

January 28:
Brokenness
Surrender
Hope
Restoration
Faith
Celebration
Love
Redemption.

Today we celebrate. She is 3 and I am 19 and our stories will forever be intertwined.  Her life, this love and little family we have is evidence that surrender and recovery work.  Evidence of  God's ability and desire to take the most ugly and broken bits and to make them beautiful.

A celebration of her little life and my redeemed one.  A reminder to me that my daughters never have to see me drunk, so long as I choose to keep doing what we do.

January 28.  The best day.