One Christmas Eve

Kathy Purves

The snow was falling heavily outside as I stood as I stood at the kitchen sink clearing up the breakfast dishes. The house was in turmoil as it always was at that time of the morning. With a three year old, the house was never tidy. As fast as one toy was discarded another one was hauled from the toy box.

Today was different though. Andrew was jumping up and down excitedly at the door, clambering to get outside to play in the snow. 'Oh no' I thought, 'please, not today'. I was heavily pregnant and found the effort of moving around difficult. I was in no mood to start hauling the sledge out. I hadn't slept well the night before, as I had been devastated to read in the local paper the death notice of my friend's baby boy. His funeral was today and my heart was heavy. It had been a cot death and there but for the grace of God. I looked at Andrew and shuddered.

As if I didn't have enough to do clearing up, I had the responsibility of preparing for Christmas although I must say I didn't feel much like it. There was the turkey to prepare, baking to do and the inevitable housework. My husband was there to help me but, in truth, he isn't very domesticated being the product of an over zealous mother and a product of private schooling at a boys only institution (his words not mine!).

But I digress so I return to an excited 3 year old, a heavily pregnant mum, snow, excitement, Christmas and lots of preparation.

It was in the midst of all this that the accident happened. I was trying to usher Andrew out of the kitchen and from under my feet when he suddenly fell flat on his face and put his top teeth through his bottom lip. As feelings of guilt, horror and panic flooded through me, I scooped him up while his dad ran for a towel. In no time Andrew and I were covered in blood, and it was apparent he would need to go to the surgery. But the car was snowed in!! Eventually we got there and both he and I were examined. My husband was given instructions to take me to the maternity hospital and Andrew to the Sick Kids to get his lip stitched.

As I lay in the hospital bed wincing with each mild contraction, I watched the soft white snow falling silently on the Meadows. Nothing could contrast more with the feelings of turmoil that were running through my mind like a video loop. Why today of all days did this have to happen? It should have been a time of excited fun, preparing for Santa to bring the Big Red Bike that had been requested. Instead I lay thinking of Baby Graeme's small coffin being laid to rest in a cold silent ground, while the baby who had been wriggling inside me for months was preparing to enter the world. And Andrew? What pain was he going through? Was he missing his mum? And I was going to miss the first Christmas when he knew what was happening. Tears convulsed my body yet again.

Later on that afternoon I was wheeled through the large double doors of the Victorian hospital to the Labour Suite. As I passed beneath I saw a nativity scene had been painted on the semi circle of glass above - but the manger was empty. It flashed through my mind that perhaps the talented person who had painted the scene had been too busy to finish it.

As I lay squirming with each contraction that was bring my unborn child nearer to the world, I could hear nurses moving through the hospital singing Christmas carols. How dare they sing 'Joy to the World'. Where was my joy? About 7pm that evening Ian came in to the world - a small tadpole shaped form with a big head and a skinny body. But he was mine. And he was gorgeous. Dare anyone say anything different!

It was just after midnight when I was wheeled from the labour ward back to the main ward. I passed under the semi circular window above the double doors once again and as I looked up I saw that the Baby Jesus had been placed in the manger. Perhaps it was done as the nurses sang their Carols. I would like to think so.

I suddenly realized that this was what today was all about - Peace, Joy, Harmony. As I glanced down at the face of my newborn son, suddenly the events of the day melted away just as quickly as the snow did. And life returned to normal.