Wednesday, January 26, 2011


She worked a crossword puzzle to keep her mind off the discomfort. But soon it couldn’t be ignored. She’d put her hand on her stomach and whisper “there’s another one.” We started timing.

“Maybe we better go.”

“I’m not going in until I’m sure.”

Twice they went to the hospital. Twice they were sent home. This time Kayla wanted to be sure her contractions were the real thing.

So she waited…so we timed. Seven minutes apart, then five, then four, then more severe, then…

“Oh, I think we better go.”

10:30 p.m. Daddy drove – fast and furious. They unloaded at the now familiar hospital entry. I slid behind the wheel to park.

This time there was no wondering. She wanted to push.

The familiar elevator ride; beep – we ascended through second floor. Beep – we rose through third. Beep-beep to the top of the hospital; the place life began for many…and ended for some.

Room # 5406 became Kayla’s temporary home. Monitors attached and questions asked – lots of questions. Have you eaten anything? How far apart are the contractions? On a scale of 1-10 what is your pain level? Any tobacco use…medications? She’d answer when she could and gasped and grasped white knuckles to bedrail when she couldn’t.

With each wince from my daughter eyes would burn and jaw would clench; not hers – mine. I wasn’t having the baby but I felt the pain. Not in my belly but in my heart. I hoped they didn’t notice these contractions were tearing me apart.

And then it got worse. “We’ll try to give you something for the pain but…I’m going to try the other arm.” Needles and nurses attempted to find a vein – in vain.

Contractions continued about two minutes apart topping the chart. When I heard: “I’ll check again to see how far you’re dilated.” I decided that was my cue to exit. “I think I’ll get some coffee and then…I’d probably be of more use in the Chapel.”

Coffee in hand I rode the elevator to the bottom; the Chapel floor. The nurses needed help finding a vein so I went over their head to get it.

From below – I looked up. Dear God…nothing eloquent or memorable would come; just a heartfelt cry for a needle to find a vein; a girl to dilate and deliver. The big white Bible lay open in the front of the chapel.

“Thus says the Lord who made you and formed you from the womb, who will help you: Fear not…” Isaiah 44:2

Her room was quiet when I returned; the atmosphere different. The only sound the beeping machine. Kayla lay still. A large arc appeared on the paper water fall documenting a big contraction; but not a wince from Kayla.

She had dilated from a three to a seven. The IV found a home. And pain meds were delivered.

I thought: God heard.

My faith grew.

The door should have been a revolving one. Nurse Lisa instructed Kayla to let her know if she felt the urge to push.

We waited and watched.

“He’s facing the side. He needs to turn.” They rotated Kayla from side to side and then on her knees.

Once more from Chapel below on my knees, prayers ascended to turn and to deliver.

From the belly of the hospital these words were read:

“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given.” Isaiah 9:6
And five floors above Life pushed life from belly to world.

I'm pleased to announce to you. On 1/24/11 at 2:57 a.m. 8lb 2.9 oz; 20 ½”; Urijah Nathaniel Brooks was born.

And if I ever lost faith in prayer; tonight it was reborn.


First Bath

Already waving at Papa!

Mom & Dad


a sojourner said...

thought maybe they'd name him "Roadrunner." :) but Urijah Nathaniel Brooks sounds a whole better! Congratultations to the parents and the entire family!!!

Michelle said...

Beautifully written and beautiful baby :) God bless you.

Chris said...

I remember those days with my wife and waiting for our children to come, can't imagine what it will be like when my daughters give birth. I hope I am able to be part of this miracle of life. Congratulations to you and to your family for this precious gift of life.
You did a great job in writing this.