There was no crying,
And that scared me.
Actually,
It seemed like the room got suddenly quiet,
And the image of that moment is seared into my memory forever.
Just ahead,
A beautiful little face,
Eyes closed,
Still.
The midwife's shaking hands,
One on his head,
The other holding trembling shears,
The nurse attending,
Standing next to her,
Slightly blocking my view,
And I heard my voice,
Almost,
As if out of body,
Call,
Unbidden,
Beseeching the midwife,
Is he okay?
I was having trouble breathing,
Because he was blue,
As a blueberry,
And the umbilical cord was wrapped taut around his neck.
The actual labor,
The pushing,
Took twice as long this time.
And when we finally saw the baby,
We understood why.
The umbilical cord had been pulling the baby back into the womb the entire time,
Wrapped around his neck.
Only through a herculean effort was my wife able to bring this baby into the world.
And the labor was par the course for this pregnancy.
It had not been an easy road.
Intense morning sickness,
Major swelling,
And constant discomfort for the last five to six months had given our family many reasons to joyfully anticipate this birth.
I've never felt more helpless than standing there,
Watching as the midwife,
In controlled but frantic movements,
Worked to remove the umbilical cord from around the baby's neck.
Still,
No movement,
No breathing,
No crying eyes,
His mouth closed.
And I couldn't stop asking if he was okay.
The room quickly filled with other healthcare professionals as I got pushed further and further back.
By the time he was removed from the birth canal,
There must have been six to eight nurses and doctors surrounding him.
They moved him quickly to a table in the back of the room.
I thought to myself,
If he would just cry,
If I could just hear a cry,
Everything will be okay.
But no one would answer me,
Causing my anxiety to build.
And Angie lay there recuperating from the intensity of the labor,
Oblivious.
This uncertain period probably only lasted five or so minutes,
But it seemed like forever that day.
And while standing on my tippy toes,
Trying to see my child,
A ray of sunshine suddenly fell across the room.
As cutting through the frantic quiet,
A small gurgling cry burst from my baby's mouth.
Relief washed from the top of my head to my toes like a summer's rain.
The cry wasn't blatant and loud like I'd remembered from the first birth I'd attended,
But it was a cry nonetheless.
The baby's lungs finally a chance to breathe.
This new life had begun in this world,
And here was opportunity.
I'm so thankful for modern medicine.
I understand it can't save every child or mother,
And I understand that many go through the trauma of loss when they expect new life.
But over the past two millennia,
The worldwide infant mortality rate in the first year of life has fallen drastically from close to 50% to a mere 2.
9% today.
That number is still too high,
But I can't help but have gratitude for the progress of medicine and how it helped my child survive.
And something I know to be true about this life is that it's often full of surprises.
It's constantly moving me into areas and seasons where something new is birthed.
The newness and change often cause me stress and anxiety,
But many times,
The new endeavors or the new seasons become something magnificent,
Wondrous,
And rewarding.
And being able to see through the pains of birthing something new helps me get through many of the difficulties of starting fresh,
Of being in that uncomfortable situation.
When we begin something,
We often approach it with trepidation because of the unknowns,
Because of the fear of getting something wrong or failing.
The effort it takes to simply get something off the ground is sometimes enough to paralyze us into inaction.
We were not anticipating all of the drastic events surrounding the birth of our son,
But in no way would we trade that experience for the wondrous life that he is.
So as you consider the birth of something new in your life and the struggles,
Fears,
And uncertainties that surround it,
Try to imagine the reward of moving past the initial trials that are inherent to that newness.
There may be bumps in the road as you begin,
But just as the life of my son persevered in the face of trials,
I am hopeful that beautiful life lay just beyond your current struggles.
And I encourage you to continue to persevere in the midst of adversity,
In the midst of the newness,
Allowing yourself hope,
Envisioning a future of wholeness,
Grace,
Prosperity,
And love,
And allowing the birth of something new to be a force of good in your life,
Leading you to the peace and freedom you deserve.
