Well, here I am- finally updating the blog! The most pressing thing to report, if you hadn’t already heard, is the arrival of our sweet baby girl, Corabelle Eve! She was born June 16th, at 8:35 a.m., a perfect 6.3 lbs, and 19 inches long. She was born perfect– completely healthy, whole, and beautiful, and about a billion other pleasing adjectives.
It was a morning full of nerves, excitement, and incredible anticipation as we drove to the hospital for my scheduled cesarian. We were finally going to meet this little girl, whom we already loved more than words could say, and we would finally know with assurance whether or not she would have any special needs. In the final months of the pregnancy we were very hopeful regarding the possibility of down syndrome, but there was still an anxiety, particularly on my part.
So, there I am, stripped down to nothing but a hospital gown, while Kev and I wait for our time and the nurses are getting me prepped and such. My cousin Stephanie, who delivered me, had one other delivery that morning. The anesthesiologist, who was wonderful, comes in to meet us and to go over how everything will be once we’re in the OR. Before leaving, he asks what kind of music we’d like during the surgery. We tell him some sort of “acoustic coffeehouse-ish” type music, and he says he’ll do his best.
You gotta love Pandora because you can type just about anything in there and it will give you some sort of result. He managed to find a great station that played a lot of instrumental acoustic and then songs with words here and there. As I laid there, the numbness setting in on my lower half, waiting for them to bring Kevin in, I listed to the music and felt so peaceful. There was God’s presence. There- in the operating room of a hospital. I couldn’t fight the tears that came. The anesthesiologist noticed I was crying and asked if everything was okay. All I could seem to blubber out was, “I’m just ready.” And that was true. I was ready to meet my baby girl and be done with this pregnancy and start the next chapter of our lives. But most of the emotion was from the loving presence of tender Jesus there with me, making the moment holy. When they brought Kevin in I whispered to him, “I feel God’s presence here.” “I do too,” he replied as he stroked my hair.
I was teary for most of the surgery that actually seemed to go by fairly quickly. I’ll never forget what song was playing when Steph pulled Corabelle out- an acoustic version of “Collide” by Howie Day. It seemed random at the time, but at least it was a song we could remember. Now, however, it doesn’t seem random at all. Collide. That’s what happened there in that OR. A collision. Heaven was meeting Earth and we were there to witness it. We’d already been co-creators with Christ and now here it was, or rather, here she was. And we heard the cry. And I wept. And I knew she was perfect, no matter what. And I was a mama once again as the sound of my voice, and my voice alone, soothed the screaming babe to quiet. She knew me and loved me just as much as I loved her. And the Father’s love keeps giving and giving and giving. And I am soothed by his voice.
Of course, the pediatrician confirmed later on that was perfectly normal and healthy. We are two grateful, humbled parents. And here we are, almost 7 weeks later, and I’m more tired than I’ve ever been in my life, and yet my world is so sweet. And the chaos of an infant and a toddler is lovely.
Corabelle Eve, you beautiful life-giver, you helped me find Jesus once again. Thank you, sweet girl.