Mother's Day

I'm not one to celebrate a day just because Hallmark says I should. (Just ask my husband or any of my children how rebellious I can be about this subject!)  In my opinion, we ought to show our love and appreciation whenever and however often we are moved to do so.


However, with "Mother's Day" approaching and my dear friend requesting birth stories, I thought this an appropriate time to comply...


I have eight birth stories...twice that many if you include the babies we never met. Each birth has its own unique and incredible story. But, the one that is the most fun to tell is Micah's. You'll see why. First, allow me some space to set the backdrop for his entrance into this world.


When Howard and I first married (at 17 and 18, respectively), we didn't think we ever wanted to have children. To make a long story shorter, we changed our minds, and three years later, Andrea was born. Then, Lauren. Next, Charlotte. And, Patrick.   ~ An eight year gap. ~  Enter Samuel, whose birth was nearly the death of me. By the time I was expecting Micah, I was 39 years old and my body was not bouncing back quite as readily. I was in excellent health, though, had a wonderful midwife, and was full of confidence and wonderment and anticipation.  Somewhere in the last trimester,  my pubic bone felt as though it was separating. Yes, quite painful. My midwife wisely ordered me to stay off my feet as much as possible. No more long walks in the countryside for me! I spent the remainder of this pregnancy making a quilt, start to finish. I call it "Micah's quilt", of course.


As with most expectant mothers, I was concerned if I would recognize "real" labor. My midwife lived almost an hour away, so I didn't want to rouse her in the middle of the night for a false alarm. So, when the pangs began sometime after midnight on July 24th, 1996, I waited to call...until 2am.  Lynn cheerfully answered, as though she hadn't been sleeping; but, said she would take a shower before heading our way. She arrived about 3am. We visited quietly, sharing a light snack, until 4am. At that point, I announced that I had better head to the bathroom while I could still manage to walk. Pit stop completed, I rounded the corner into our bedroom, and hoisted myself upon the bed with Howard's assistance. By now, birth was imminent. Lynn was scrambling to assemble her supplies.  I was scrambling to remove clothing. She turned her back on me for a moment, and when she turned around, at 4:07 am, there was Micah! She said, "Oohhh!" loudly enough that the girls could hear her from the other end of the house.


No muss. No fuss. No intrusion, interference or distraction.  Quick. Quiet.   Ta-dah! 
Every one needs to have one of those! :-D

Micah, at nearly 16 years old, continues to be "ready to go, ready to stay, ready to do my will". He's quick and attentive, alert and enthusiastic, cheerful and encouraging. Was his birth experience an indication of his personality and character? Only God knows.