Every childbirth is a miracle; I don't want to give any impression to the contrary. However, for us there have been additional miracles, small ones, that accompanied each birth.
Jacob's for instance, our first. We did not go into childbirth innocently or ignorantly, we went in after study and prayer. While Julie was still employed at school, we investigated what her insurance covered and what it didn't. We carefully planned the date so that Julie could complete the school year, and surprise! It worked out.
For anyone that has ever tried to have children, it is a miracle, perhaps a small one, that everything worked out when dealing with the incredible powers of heaven and nature. Those powers don't so much as laugh at man's attempts to control them, as they ignore them except when aligned with their purposes. Yet everything worked in our situation - which as much speaks to our humility as to our planning.
The day - as hoped - was drawing nigh. We had made all the prenatal visits, attended the birthing classes, and practiced the breathing exercises. We had notified the insurance, and had notified the hospital. We were anxious, and scared, in a good way, like going away to college, only scarier. Julie, though still incredibly positive, was weary with carrying the extra weight.
A family in the ward saw Julie's fatigue and invited us to dinner after church. We thankfully accepted. We entered their lovely home, sat down to the well prepared meal, bowed our heads to give thanks, and Julie grabbed my leg. She had had a few twinges before, but her tight squeeze of my knee let me know that these twinges were significant. I noted the time and we went on with the meal, without telling our hosts.
When we returned to our basement home, we mostly sat around waiting for the pains to become more intense and closer together. We had completed preparations well before this day. I remember, perhaps incorrectly, in a tradition followed with the other deliveries when possible, Julie took a shower.
Being nervous, and not really wanting to focus on anything else, I started graphing the time between contractions and the length of contractions. I recorded the times on my green engineering pad and drew a plot below. The afternoon passed slowly into evening and then into night. We didn't want to go to bed, but were fairly sure we weren't quite ready for delivery. So we meandered to the hospital, went to the third floor, and were placed in an examination room by the nurse. The nurses laughed at my plot as they hooked up Julie to sensors and analytical equipment that printed out a strip of paper showing the contractions. They left her and me as we settled in.
Towards midnight, I left Julie to go downstairs to complete the paperwork to sign us in. By doing so at midnight we avoided a whole day's worth of charges. Being on edge and somewhat giddy, I visited with the admissions aide, and returned to my wife after about 20 minutes. She was not happy. The birth had progressed to where the pains were quite painful - and she was alone.
She did not let me step out of the room again. Julie held my hand tightly and had me work with her on her breathing. It was a good thing that we had taken the class and had practiced the exercises - we used them extensively. Originally we were to decide during the birth if Julie needed an epidural, but once we got into the rhythm of breathing and the struggle of birth, we could never take our focus off the process of birth.
What a miracle! What a struggle! What a daunting task! The joy of welcoming the new spirit into the world overshadows and obscures the incredible struggle that precedes the birth. The hand of the Lord was evident in the support that Julie received during the delivery. It is not easy.
Julie was exhausted when Jacob finally was born. The doctor and the nursing crew handle the birth, helping the baby out, helping the mother with afterbirth, sewing her up, cleaning her up, and making sure she is well. There is a special team that is just for the baby. They take the infant from the birthing crew, clean the baby up, clean the baby out if the child had swallowed any fluid, check its vitals, check its non-vitals, check its color, put it under a heat lamp, wrap it up, and perhaps then give the newborn to the parent.
And I gave Jacob to Julie. By that time she had already admonished me not to think about having other children for a long while, squeezed my hand, told me that she loved me, drifted off to sleep, and woke up again, just enough to hold the baby. Julie smiled, tiredly, but with a sweetness beyond that ever painted on a madonna. She didn't have the energy to hold Jacob long, but treasured him and rejoiced in him and told me how sweet he was.
I returned the baby to the nursery staff, and watched while they weighed and measured Jacob. I returned to Julie, and watched her a while as she slept. I wandered down to the gift shop and cafeteria and considered buying something, and as usual, decided not to do so. I returned to Julie's room, napped a little in the uncomfortable chair by the bedside, waited till she stirred again, then took my leave and returned to our basement home.
I also made a lot of early morning calls to various family members while still at the hospital. I knew that everyone would come and visit Julie. I showered, I believe I went to work at the lab at BYU, then as I returned to visit Julie, I went and purchased a beautiful perfect red rose - artificial but gorgeous. I wanted it to be a reminder to us of our love.
The miracle? That everything worked out. It may seem so trivial, so mundane, but I am so thankful that everything did work out. My beautiful wife had a beautiful baby, and I know that is a miracle.
Another miracle happened during Julie's pregnancy. Or rather a special gift was given. I can not remember when during the pregnancy it occurred, but I was given a dream. In this dream, I saw a blond, blue-eyed young man holding a very young, red-headed girl on his lap. I was given knowledge that these were my oldest and youngest children. There wasn't much more to my dream than that. But the dream impacted me enough that I told Julie about it when we woke up.
And it has come to pass.
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