Five on the 5th

It is my sweet girl's birthday today. Five years old on the 5th. It is so hard to believe.

I remember July 4, 2002 vividly. The crash and the glow of fireworks seemed to induce labor. Mark and I perched ourselves on Stephanie's sidewalk to watch a few, and then we headed for the hospital. This being my third baby, I was eager to get to the hospital. I had epidural on my mind. The all too familiar labor pains indicated that this would be nothing like the false alarm we had a few weeks ago.

We arrived at the hospital at approximately 10pm. The tightness in my abdomen increased and it started getting more consistent. Paperwork? Check-in? At a time like this? I remember staying calm, but wanting so much to get past all of the logistics to the room where my baby girl would be born.

Once the epidural was administered, I rested there comfortably for the next few hours. My body labored, and I took a nap. The room was dark and quiet. The glow of the television caught my eye, but I didn't really pay attention to what was on.

I was preoccupied with thoughts of my baby.

What will she look like? Will she really be a "she"? Will she look like Matthew did, or more like Michael? What about a name - we haven't picked out a name yet. (We were teetering between Amanda and Makayla.)

At approximately 4am, the doctor came in and indicated that it was time to push. Push? Already? Okay, I had done this two other times before, I knew it would be a piece of cake. (Drugs are great.) But as my legs were being positioned and the nursing staff was preparing, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

There was something God had me pay attention to in that moment. I felt a mix of anticipation, hope, uncertainty and pain. I knew that the moment my baby would be born - that my life would never be the same again. I wanted to treasure being pregnant for just a moment longer.

The pushing came as my body bared down. And like a coach, my doctor praised me with every attempt. One two (maybe three) pushes, and out she came . . . yes, she really was a she!!

I listened for her cries, and they came. A wrinkly little blob . . . all mine. My heart was so full, by body so tired.

It is difficult to describe the moment your baby is born. I have to say that it tops anything else I have ever experienced. And by God's grace and mercy, I have had the privilege of doing three times.

After Mark and the family left, my new baby girl and I spent the next few hours alone. I nursed her, and she fell asleep at my breast. I watched every move she made. I smelled her - over and over again. Little fingers and toes . . . baby's breath. She was all mine, to love and cherish. So many dreams filled my head. Dance classes, shopping, barbies. A close relationship with a daughter.

It didn't take long for me to realize that this tiny miracle was named Makayla. She looked like a Makayla, even at a few hours old. Amazing.

I felt the presence of God all over that room on that sacred morning. I glanced out the window, and was startled by what I saw. My labor room was positioned in such a way that I had a view of the American flag and the cross side by side. The view was breathtaking. Freedom in Christ indeed. His rescue was the reason my heart could be so full. It was God's smile on the best day of my life.

I've had three best days . . . no make that four. Once included a vow and a ring.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl. You are a dream come true.