“You can pace around here or sit in the rocking chair over there.” A nurse told me outside the operating room.
I was jazzed, bouncing on my toes like I used to before my basketball games in the sixth grade, ready to finally meet my baby. After a short while, they called me in and Shaleia was there, glassy-eyed but finally no longer in a great deal of pain. The surgical team was all around and the screen was up below Shaleia’s lower body. It was go time.
I loved Shaleia and felt intense gratitude for her in that moment. It was really scary seeing her like that, about to undergo surgery. She was finally calm after a long, difficult ordeal. I looked into her eyes, she looked back into mine. I thanked her, she thanked me. I told her I loved her, she told me she loved me.
I was scared, a lot of tugging and movement was going on and her body was moving around. She was in a state of total surrender and acceptance. In that moment I realized the enormous risk we had taken and the stupendous trust we had to have in the people around us.
I had to lay down all I loved most dearly to God. My beloved wife, my world, my love, my everything. My everything. My whole life. I had to lay down my dream of our baby, everything we did to get this far. All in the hands of God. I could lose it all right here. I surrendered completely and was with Shaleia as if it was our last moment together ever. I was with her with everything that I was, I was with God.