WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 19, 2022, FAMILY - BIRTH

 WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 19, 2022 FAMILY

Forty-Six years today, I became a father.  

There is still a miracle to new life (and maybe even a miracle when life ends).  One of the things I have missed (I know some won’t agree with me), is the whole process of pregnancy, delivery, birth (and even the monthly periods).  Mothers - as I became a woman, I have much more fully realized all that you do - and I have appreciated women much more. (If you will, quite an “eye-opener” for me).

From Psalm 139:

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.

Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!  Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.

You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,  as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.

You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book.

Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. 

***

Yes, all the “delicate, inner parts” - and God knitted them together in a mother’s womb.

*****

The world (and the birth process) was somewhat different then.  As new parents, we attended a Pre-Natal class.  I felt the instructor (a nurse in the maternity ward) when talking about the pain of childbirth, was somewhat implying to the males in the room “this is ALL your fault”!!  

I was ready - after all, I had a minuscule part in the birthing process.  

Connie’s contractions started on Saturday evening and we checked in - only to be told: “not yet”.  (Anxious first-time parents!! <grin>).  By Sunday evening the contractions were more frequent and bigger.  I sat with Connie for most of the time - until the staff shooed me out of the room.  This was in a fairly small town and having fathers in the delivery room wasn’t allowed yet.  I was relegated to the fathers’ waiting room.  And, like the expectations laid out for me, I did pace the floor.  

There were three men in the waiting room, a man in his 30s - where this was not their first child, a young man that I vaguely recognized as a former student at the high school where I was teaching (not a former student), and me.  The other two (and especially the younger man) chain-smoked (you could still do that in a hospital waiting room!) - maybe that prompted me to walk more and get away from the smoke!!!  

I looked at my watch and the clock on the wall a million times.  How long was this to be?  

Finally about 6:00 a.m. (after a fitful night - and of course - a night of labor for Connie), a boy was born. I was 28, Connie was 25 - and we were parents.  Pretty awesome!!

I’ve been reflecting on this precious child and becoming a father recently.

As I was teaching at the local (Keokuk Iowa) high school, I went back to teaching.  One of the joys of those early days was coming home from school and holding this precious son for hours.  In particular, I can remember taking a nap and having our son napping on my stomach.  So small, so precious, so loved.  

As I was working during the day, Connie had opted not to breastfeed, and so I had the overnight shift of feeding, changing, and burping our son.  And like new parents, we could check on our new addition frequently - was he breathing okay?  Was he hungry?  Was he wet?  

I “accused” Connie of having sharp elbows so she could jab me in bed to get up and check on the baby.  We had a rocking chair that had been my grandmother’s, and I would change and give a bottle to our son, and rock him back to sleep.  And, he might wake up as he got put back in the crib, so Dad (me) would rock him more!!!  

We were also not making much money so we used (and reused, and reused) cloth diapers.  I got pretty good at changing diapers.  [I sometimes thought - if I just nick this baby enough to draw blood, I’d probably be exempt from changing him!! - But, I couldn’t do that].  

We had such learning that first year.  I had rarely been around babies - and definitely, I didn’t get to experience hugging and changing them.  Connie was quite experienced by her family of eleven children - of which she was the eldest girl.  Did he smile?  Did he make bubbles? Did he rollover?  Did he crawl?  Was he pulling himself up on chairs?  And, finally, about two weeks before his first birthday, he started to walk.  

*****

Forty-six years for our son.  He is a successful newscaster in central Nebraska (as I say, he is in television market #483 - not the biggest market - but he is a big fish in a small pond).  He is also a father - to triplets - so the miracle of new life continues.  

(There is humor in the statement “If I knew grandchildren would be so much fun, I would have had them first!!!)

And - forty-six years later, I am still amazed at birth, the newness of life.

*****

In the Spiritual sense, there is always new life - and growth.  I try to grow mentally every day.  I try to learn something every day.  I know of some people - who have died mentally but still live in the physical world. I see some of them in the senior independent living facility where I am working part-time.  

I’ve been reflecting on Mary, carrying Jesus in her womb.  There is a song “Mary did you know” that questions if Mary knew her baby was the Messiah.  

Blood, Sweat, and Tears in their song “When I die”, end with these lyrics:

And when I die, and when I'm dead

Dead and gone

There'll be

One child born, in our world

To carry on, to carry on

*****

At 74, someday I’ll die (hopefully not soon) - and there will be “one child born to carry on”.  

LOVE DEFINITY WINS!!!

Karen

January 19, 2022