There’s nothing quite so wonderful and breathtaking as watching the birth of your child.
It started Sunday morning. Jen started feeling those first twinges of labor pains. As the day progressed other issues arose that led us to the hospital, thinking, wondering if she’d be admitted. An hour later we were sent home and told to monitor things on our own. Later that evening we were back in the hospital, admitted, and waiting for things to move along.
And boy did they ever. It took all night and most of the morning, but when the time came it came in a rush. Jen was marvelous. She’s not one to get belligerent and violent during labor. She remains calm, does her breathing, and exemplifies two words: dignity and grace.
There were some scary moments along the way, some complications, but by God’s grace when that glorious moment came, our little Elizabeth was ushered into this world, kicking and screaming, but alive. So alive.
I’ve watched the birth of all four of my daughters and each time have been reduced to a puddle of tears. The wonder of it is too much for me to handle. This child, this baby girl, this precious creation that we’ve been waiting and preparing for going on nine months is suddenly here, fully formed, breathing , moving, crying. She’s part of us. And she’s perfect.
And now we get to raise her, to train her up in the ways of God, to love her and nourish her, to care for her and protect her. God has placed this little life in our hands to shepherd and love.
And we’ll do our best, it’s all we can do.