Two days before the start of the Christmas season, we received our first gift. Shelden James was born on Wednesday the 24th of November. Needless to say, it was like no other experience we had ever had. From the dad’s perspective, it was a pretty grueling process, and I’m sure that my sentiments were shared. I received a few calls and texts throughout the day before wondering if this could be it and making it challenging to focus on the important tasks of the day. Somehow, processing documents for building permits, and writing reports on potholes becomes difficult. We had actually been attending a birth class throughout the week, and the last session was scheduled for the evening of the 23rd. What better way to start the labor than learning about what could go wrong in labor, and what the dad is supposed to do in the event that no professional help is present. I think I got an hour of sleep that night before being shaken awake by Lauryn and asked if we should ask the midwife to come over. The plan had been to have the birth within our own home. I was initially somewhat hesitant with this plan, but it became reinforced through the classes that we attended, and I noticed that minimal if any safety is given up in exchange for the security of giving birth in a select environment and being in control of the decisions made, but I digress. Starting at 10:30 that night and on was an experience that I won’t ever forget. Skipping the technical and\or graphic details, all indications showed that our son would be born at 10:00 that next morning. Things were progressing nicely (if I can use that term) all night long until the process grounded to a crawl, and Shelden didn’t end up making an appearance until close to 6:00 in the evening. I gained a lot of respect for Lauryn in those long hours when we more than once would have packed for a trip to the hospital and a possible emergency operation had it not been for a consistent strong heartbeat on the monitor, and a resounding determination by Lauryn. Waves of joy and relief filled all as a healthy “bouncing” baby boy let out his first cry, and was put into the arms of his awaiting mama.
Interestingly enough, weeks before, Lauryn had planned a Wednesday birth mainly so that the proud papa would get a few extra days to stick around and be a proud papa. Despite popular belief, some things actually do work out according to plan. Times as we now know them have quickly changed. Much of the inspiration for this blog has come at the ungodly hours of 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning with a pair of wide open blue eyes staring up into mine waiting to take another lap around the coffee table before promising to be a little quiter over the next few hours before repeating the process. It is the start of great things to come that we could previously only dream about, and a new appreciation for the great God that makes all of this happen.
