Zion Rani

Due to “advanced dilation” my midwife assigned me an appointment later in the afternoon to deliver our sixth child. She knew I hoped to treat myself to an epidural after a slew of rigorous natural births, and one baby delivered via toilet bowl. Getting to the hospital before my water broke would hopefully give me time to get those magical juices injected into my spine.

I celebrated the big day ahead in the peace and quiet of my minivan in the Target parking lot with a personal pan pizza and iced latte. I felt thankful for how things were playing out. How nice of God to give my punctual self a timed and dated childbirth! I could leave the house in good order and kiss my other children goodbye. It wasn’t the middle of the night, but a warm autumn afternoon, the trees aglow like a landscape from some Thanksgiving napkin. 

My husband and I entered the hospital as if it were Disneyworld, or at least date night. We were about to meet a fifth Boerckel woman who would change our family for the better. Our hearts would expand to elephant size and the adrenaline of seeing her face would help carry us through the long nights ahead. We entered with a confident and experienced swagger, reminiscing our other childrens’ births and planning which Thai food to order post-delivery. 

A big needle later and I was all set up to wait for an impulse to push. My husband and I relaxed and grinned at each other. We were so close now. However, only a few minutes had passed when my sight blurred and my forehead beaded with sweat. I felt a wave of nausea and let the nurse know that I didn’t feel well. As my body slowed down, the medical staff sped up. One moment we were learning about the food of Trinidad from the woman drawing my blood and laughing about how I viewed the hospital like a spa with its prepared meals and quiet ambiance, only to have the warmth of the moment blown out as quickly as a candle’s flame. The party of anticipation and soon-to-be-had joy was replaced by air thick with emergency. 

My awareness weaved in and out, but I heard them nearly shout, “She isn’t responding to the medicine,” and “We’ve got to move her to surgery.” A kind nurse leaned in close to my face and told me I was doing a great job, but in the background the doctor warned all in the room that the baby’s heartbeat was way down and had been for far too long. 

I won’t soon forget my husband’s pale face or how tightly he pressed my hand in his. He had to watch them flip my limp body from side to side and read the blood pressure numbers that sunk to 40/20. The monitors’ beeping seemed to be warning everyone, especially him, that danger and death were close at hand.

I found myself in a surgical room, the staff swarming in powder blue. The midwife broke my water, the liquid escaping my body and splashing on the floor, much like the tears that continually ran from my eyes. Sharp speech was exchanged by the midwife and surgeon. The next step was pregnant with variables and risk. The surgeon made the final call to put me under and remove the baby by c-section. Her decision proved wise as our daughter’s cord was coiled hazardly above her head. 

My eyes were closed when my child emerged from the womb and gulped oxygen for the first time. My husband was prohibited from the surgery room, unable to hold my hand or cut the cord. He thought he would lose us both. 

But the Lord kept us, just as he does the sparrow and the lillies. He sustained my life and the life of our daughter, Zion Rani. Her name is appropriate. Zion reminds us of our forever home in the presence of the Lord, just as her birth caused our attention to look to realities more permanent than the here and now. Rani is Hindi for queen. The Lord’s saving power in Zion’s life already speaks of his care and provision for her. We pray he makes her a leader among his people, both now and forever in the new heavens and earth. 

“Those who trust in the Lord are as Mount Zion, which cannot be moved but abides forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people from this time forth and forever.” Psalm 125:1-2
“And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” Isaiah 35:10