Usually I write your weekly post on Sunday, but your new
week really begins on Monday. Today, out
of respect for the ten-year anniversary of a very sad day for the world, I am
moving your post to its correct Monday date.
When you are born in our home, you will be the second child
to first breathe oxygen in this home. I
watched the other child enter the world too, the second-born of a dear friend. It was a week after I watched my grandmother
– your great grandmother – breathe her last oxygen on this earth. Life.
Death. Yesterday as I considered
the heavy ten-year anniversary of so much tragedy, I still could not contain my
joyfulness at your life. Death. Life.
I am grateful that to those who follow Christ, we have
hope. We can find peace in life, and
peace in death. Joy in death even, when
we know it has led to eternal life.
On this earth, we will never escape the intensity that life
and death bring, because our perspective is so limited. We cannot see into eternity. We cannot see beyond the tangible. This is faith: the surety of things hoped
for, the certainty of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).
This week I have felt the urge to talk to you as if you
could hear me. I have felt your company
as if you were a child or friend walking next to me. I arrive at the gym and think, “Well Beta, we
can do this! We are becoming
stronger!” I eat a meal and wish to ask
you if you are enjoying it. I sing and
play music with my hands at church on Sunday, and feel that you must be
enjoying the rhythm of the tambourine beating in my hands, just on the other
side of the flesh that separates us.
I know that according to medical records, you cannot hear
for several weeks yet. But you can
feel. Certainly you can feel the
movement of my body, the rhythm of the music.
And the moment in which they say you can hear, that sense has been
developing weeks prior, so there must be some gradual discovery of sound.
This week your vocal cords are beginning to develop,
although you won’t be able use them until we meet face to face. Your intestines are moving from inside the
umbilical cord (wow) to inside your abdomen.
You are now the size of a guava - about three inches
long. You look like a miniature
infant. Your facial features are defined
with sealed eyelids, nose, lips, and cheeks.
Your arms and legs are no longer bumps, but are complete with knee and
elbow joints, allowing you to bend and flex.
Thirteen week sonograms show a profile that looks very similar in shape
to a full-term baby, but in reality, you are so tiny. A literal miniature of what you will be at
birth.
By the way, the guava was yummy! Your Daddy was so excited to taste it. He loves tropical fruits, but had never tasted
guava before. What a treat!
Blueberries are still in season, so sweet and
delicious. When I look at them, it is
shocking that this was your size a mere two months ago.
This week we had our first appointment with the midwife who
will coach us through your growth and world-debut. She checked on me, checked on you, and announced
that you are growing beautifully, perhaps the tiniest bit ahead of
schedule. It is in the family for babies
to grow a lot at the beginning, so for you and me, this is normal.
Your Daddy entered the room right when the midwife was
telling me about your growth so far, and the growth of my womb around you, and
he said, “Did she find it?” She looked
at him with a smile and (I’m sure) restrained herself from rolling her
eyes. Instead she offered, “Do you want
to feel?” And she helped him press his
hand into my belly until he could feel your round, firm house beneath my belly
button. His eyes were wide as he said,
“Wow! You really can feel it!”
He is so excited about you, Beta.
Last night before we fell asleep, he put his head on my skin
near your house and whispered, ‘Hi Beta, I can’t wait until we can meet you.” Then he held both of us close in his arms.
In this verse, the Bible is talking about Abraham, one of
the physical “fathers” of Jews, and one of the spiritual “fathers” of our Christian
heritage. It is a beautiful verse about
fathers, and one that I believe could be spoken about your earthly Daddy as
well. This week to pray for you, I am
praying for your Daddy. To become the
father you need, to emulate our heavenly Father.
“For I have chosen him,
so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way
of the LORD by doing what is right and just, so that the LORD will bring about
for [him] what He has promised.” (Genesis
18:19)
