My New Baby Boy!

Exactly twenty four hours ago I was standing beside my wife as nurses scurried around the room, each to her place, and our doctor, decked out in a paper hazmat-looking outfit sat at her feet. The "cheerleaders" (hold your breath and push...7, 8, 9, 10, okay, you are doing great!) continued for some twenty minutes. My beloved wife, a trooper all the way, finally pushed our baby boy into the outside world at 10:20pm. As he was pulled out by the doctor, his large and perfect body produced a sweep of emotion in me. There he was, in all his glory, looking three months old. At ten pounds and more than three ounces he is big. He is not a big crier, his infrequent cries are more sweet and melodious (at this point!!!!)

Now I am home for a brief shower and "taking care of business" and then it is back to the hospital. When I return, he will be over one day old. It seems so much longer.

Yesterday morning, at 7am, we were told that we could not go to the hospital; they were too full. For the next two hours phone calls were made and received. At one point we thought we were headed to another hospital. Then we thought it was going to be in the afternoon. Then we thought it was going to be Saturday. Back and forth: maybe, could be, should we? Suddenly, at 9:00 we got an opening. Like a star half back we saw the break and made our move, packing up the car we left. Behind us, our sixteen year old daughter and son were in my car. First time to see that. The big debate was who would get to hold baby first. More on that later.

The medical team hooked my wife up to the various fluids and medications. For several hours I sent out updates, rather inefficiently, and awaited the "Between five and seven" time frame when we were told he was going to arrive (I am a conservative, I figured six to eight). Then the process slowed, so more medicine was added. Suddenly there was an increase in pain and so the epidural doctors made their appearance. At around seven we were told there was another three or four hours to go. Most everyone left except my kids, my mother-in-law and Fr. Terry. We debated on the actual time of birth. Most of them figured sometime near or after eleven. I said, "10:22." I was accused of insider info and cheating!

Watching the birth makes me think that we should genuflect in front of our mothers every day of our life. The birth is an unthinkable and unimaginable event. It has been likened to sucking a watermelon through a straw. In all honesty that is exactly what it looked like to me.

I do not understand the whole biological explanation of how single celled entities became humans. The birth process is so ridiculously involved that I cannot see how chance changes over a long period of time produced what I saw. I am a simple man. I think that God is the only way this could ever happen. Not saying He did it magically. Not saying a long biological process was not part of the deal. Not saying that science can't teach us alot about the whole thing. Just saying, it was miraculous, sacred and incredible. It made me worship.

One of the highlights of the night was my two kids, ooops, I mean my other two kids (got to get used to the new census figures). For much of the last two months there has been some tension around the question, "who gets to hold him first?" Being as how I am the dad, I am supposed to (wisely) intervene and come up with the fair and just answer. I saw reason for each of them to be the one, so I did what I often do, I trusted to their inner wisdom and goodness. This approach frequently backfires, so it is not always the surest bet. But it is usually the best bet. As the moment of birth loomed my son said, "Dad..." I turned around and looked over my shoulder. He was making a cutting motion and mouthing the words, "Can I cut the chord?" Not sure that I was the one to make the decision, I said, "we will see." At ten twenty one our doctor said, "Okay dad, cut the chord." I gave a thumb sign toward my son, he stepped forward, and two snips later he freed the newborn from his mother. It was a sacramental moment. A sign and an effective act. In the days ahead, as an older brother, he will regularly free his little brother. A few minutes later it came time to hold the baby. After momma, who was next? Big Sis. She took him in her arms and cradled him with a look on her face that melted my heart. Another sacrament. She will, in days ahead, be second momma and will no doubt be the one to provide endless comfort and love to her new brother.

Today, talking with the kids, they shared some of their experience. "Dad," they told me, "We were so worried about who got to hold him first until he was born. Then watching it, we did not care any more. It didn't matter." They were so overwhelmed by the grace of the moment that there was no room for themselves any more. It was a moment of heaven. A moment of other focus. I was so proud of them.

Birth is a miracle. It is incredible. Exactly twenty four hours ago our family added a new member. A new baby boy. He is so big (yet so small). He is already loved, yet to be loved so much more. Who will he be some day? I do not know. What I do know is that for nine months our prayer is that he would be holy. Holy. I think God honors such prayers. Baby  has an amazing mom, an amazing sister and an amazing brother. I think that God has good material to work with. Welcome to planet earth, my son. God be with you in your life, your journey into faith, hope and love.