2.19.08 -- 9pounds 9ounces

I've been trying to form words around this day, all day. And I'm at such a loss.

It was a long time waiting. 42 weeks, to the day, to be exact. A million stretch marks, a million more emotions of wondering whether or not I'd know how to be a mom, a million prayers that our baby would be healthy and hardy.

And 18 hours of labor later, and one long cut along my lower abdomen, and there was our baby.

But as I laid on that table, waiting, I prayed. And puked. I avoided the do not eat policy - and I ate. 18 hours is a long time to deprive a pregnant woman of food. Grapes seemed harmless until the operating room nurses had to push on my abdomen to get our large baby out - and then grapes made themselves known...all over Todd. I figure a guy's gotta suffer along the way, too, right? But really. As I laid there, praying, I wanted to jump from my skin, reach out and grab my baby before anyone else. I wanted to scream and dance and shout and run in circles and exert the adrenalin that was surely rushing through my veins. Instead, I stayed tied down to the table they had me tied to. And I waited and prayed.

And when I finally felt her come out and I heard her cry...nothing could have been more beautiful. And all that I could utter was "thank you Jesus! I praise you Jesus! Hallelujah Jesus!" and then all I could say following that was, "my baby. my baby. my baby." I cry just thinking about it. It was the most divine moment of my life. God's spirit was so beautiful in that room, in my body, surrounding my womb.

And away they took my baby. I laid there getting a blood transfusion, getting sewn up, talking to the precious nurses and doctors and trying to be patient...to wait. I knew that I would get to hold her. But it just seemed so unfair that I couldn't have my hands all over her at the moment of her arrival. But I knew that my time would come...so I waited.

And when we were finally together again, I didn't want to let her go. She laid across my chest and as if she'd done it a thousand times before, she nursed. And she rested all tucked snug in my arms. And I knew I would never be the same.

My eyes, my arms, my lips...they had experienced a new touch, a new sight, a new feeling. My heart had witnessed a holy happening and I wished I had words to share with everyone what my whole being was feeling during those moments. And still, I am at loss for those words. I had waited for so long.

Oh little Loralai Whitney. Your eyelashes are long like your mama's and like her daddy's. Your toes are long like your daddy's and your eyes brown like his, too. Your cheeks are dimple kissed like your mama's and her mama's. And to behold your chubby thighs and body is to glimpse at pictures of your mama when she was just a babe. And those eyebrows. Oh sweet one, I'm sorry and happy to say that those you got from your mama, too. They'll be the give away for every tale you tell and every moment of joy you experience. And those long fingers. Your daddy will be thrilled if you put those to playing a piano or guitar. And that precious raspy little voice that you speak with. No sound is sweeter than hearing you say mommy or da-deee. And I pray that with that same sweetness you utter holy praises to your Creator - because baby, he loves you more than even I or your daddy ever could.

I wonder what the years will bring, sweet one. More giggles. More snack times with dancing intermissions. More happy dances when daddy comes home. More time together. More time to learn what it is to love, what it is to receive love and to reflect love.

Loralai, you are a wonder to behold. My eyes take you in in new ways every day. My heart fills up every time I hear your voice. My purpose has changed and my love for our God has become sweeter and full of thanks. I feel so honored that God chose me and your daddy to care for you. I can only imagine what the next year will bring. More tears, I'm sure.

Because every time I look at the pictures of you when you were so new I wonder if my heart will ever be able to capture that holy moment again. But surely it will. Maybe not for a while, but it will. Because you know what? I believe that when God brings life into this world, he gives us a short and sweet moment of his joy - his creation. Imagine when we are born again into our eternal resting place with Him. Oh dear one, I pray for forever with you and your daddy. That as much as the angels rejoiced when we were born, here, that their singing will hark the heavens in a mighty way when we arrive Home.

Happy Birthday my sweet sweet little Loralai. You are the most precious, squishable, silly, fluff-head your daddy and I have ever known.

Glory glory glory to God for offering us such a sweet piece of life on this earth. Peace.

Babies are a magnificent wonder. Life. Precious life.