Hope and Pajamas
October 11th, 2011

I suppose that if you asked 100 different people what hope looks like you would get 100 different answers.  That is human nature.  If I were one of those 100 people and you asked me that question today the answer would be: these pajamas.

A few weeks before IEP was born my mother was in town for one of my baby showers.  She took the opportunity to spoil me in a variety of ways, one of which was to take me shopping for pajamas to wear in the hospital so that I would have something comfortable but attractive to wear when friends and family came to visit me and our new baby.  One pair was pale blue with a chocolate brown floral pattern.  The other pair was white with spring green leaves and periwinkle blue birds.  I loved them both.  But, as it turned out, no one ever saw my cute pajamas.

Just hours old, IEP was transferred to a children’s hospital for treatment by teams of specialists.  (He is fine now.)  This meant that I spent my two postpartum days in the hospital alone with my mother, waiting for my phone to ring with news of my baby’s condition and prognosis, while GAP tended to our son across town.  I won’t lie.  It really, really sucked.

Now here I am, three years later, preparing for the arrival of my next baby.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be, but I’ve been trying fairly hard avoid thinking about delivery.  They were complications during delivery that caused all of IEP’s problems, and it’s hard to think about the actual birth of my second son without my mind going to a worst-case-scenario kind of place.  We have taken all the proper steps to ensure a healthy and safe delivery, which does put my mind at ease a bit.  Nevertheless, I struggle to envision exactly what it might be like to go through labor without incident, and to relax in the hospital with my baby for a couple of days before we head home.

And so I turn to pajamas – two pairs, one floral and one polka dotted – which to me represent hope, optimism, and the faith that this time will be different from the last.  They arrived in the mail yesterday and shortly after I got home from work I tried them on.  Then I called my mother and said, “My hospital pajamas came today.  And I’m bound and determined for someone to actually see them this time.”  She knew immediately the significance of my statement.

It’s hard for me to think about delivery.  But in my own way I am mentally preparing for a different experience this time.  For me, right now, hope looks like new hospital pajamas.

6 Responses to “Hope and Pajamas”

  1. TheKitchenWitch Says:

    Crossing fingers, toes, everything I have. I hope it goes well for you, and that there’s a stunning lack of drama this time.

  2. Bridget Says:

    I fully intend to see you in those pajamas… now just promise that you’ll button them (unlike the VS model) ;) Happy waiting!

  3. Gale Says:

    Bridget – My mother also made me promise to buttom them up. You guys are no fun! :) No worries, I plan to sport them in a much more demure manner than the VS models do.

  4. e Says:

    I can’t wait to see those pjs with a very cute little babe in front of them held in Mommy’s arms.

  5. BigLittleWolf Says:

    Looking forward to hearing the news (and seeing pics) of you, new babe, and those great PJs!

  6. Lori Says:

    I have NO DOUBT in my mind that the best accessories those pi’s will see in the hospital is your wonderful second little miracle :) We cannot wait to meet him and see you!!