Father's Day

An open letter to my husband

Today marks your second father's day since our beautiful girls came into the world and you are even more wonderful a father than I could have imagined.

When we were dating, there was a moment when I saw you playing with your nieces, laughing, and enjoying their company, that I knew you were the one I wanted to marry. I knew that if you were this interested in the lives of these children that you would one day be enamored with our own.

And I was right.

When our first baby girl came into the world, I watched you grow into both a softer and stronger man. Softer in that you could empathize with a crying baby, burp her, bathe her, and snuggle with her, helpless though she was, and completely needy. You've grown with her, kissing her ouchies, singing the "Wheels on the Bus" over and over again, sometimes with silly improvised lyrics, sharing your love of airplanes with her, and causing her to give off deep belly laughs almost on a daily basis.

Stronger you became as you sacrificed your complete happiness for mine by allowing me to stay home while you continued in a job that wasn't exactly your dream. You made sure that we were taken care of before you considered yourself. I watched you humble yourself while we moved in with my family, so that I could continue staying at home with Sofia, though it wasn't your ideal situation. I watched you quickly and decisively move to protect our daughter, in times of imminent danger. You've stood firm when it came to teaching our daughter skills or manners, knowing that though it may be difficult now, it would benefit she and our family long term. You never feared taking the initiative when it came to basic care of Sofia, even when it wasn't what you wanted to be doing. I've watched you relinquish your will for that of God's as we looked at the possibility of welcoming more children into the world, though it meant more weight on you to provide. With the birth of our second child, you continued in all these ways and then added to it, caring for me and my physical needs. When everyone around you was covered in tears, you rose to become a rock to us all, offering love and support when we could not care for ourselves.

I know you were uncertain about becoming a father. I know you saw the gravity of that role and how instrumental it is in either building up or tearing down children. I know you feared causing the latter in yours.

But the way I see it, you have nothing to fear. Certainly, frustrating situations arise and you may not respond the way you always want to, but this is just a part of being human. You are perfectly suited for fatherhood, not because you are perfect, but because you are teachable. You have the Holy Spirit within you guiding you. And God created you, unapologetically, for this role.

I know that your daughters will be better people because they have you as a father. They will know what a true man is, one who works hard, makes sacrifices, serves others, and loves well. When they are grown, they will know how they should be treated by other men, because they have watched you love and serve me so well. They will know what it means to submit one's life to God and enjoy the life one has been given. They will know what it means to follow through and act when things need to get done. They will know what it means to put others before oneself.

I believe in you, as a man, as a husband, and as a father. I believe that you will have an even greater legacy than those who came before you. I believe one day your children will say of you, "my father was a man of character. One who loved well. One who lived joyfully, and one who loved God."

You are the man I always wanted to father my children, but the one I didn't know could exist.

Happy Father's Day, Daniel.

'

All Things New: Ava's Birth Story

After the birth of my first child, I shuddered to think of giving birth to a child again. 

My first labor was traumatic. I never felt more alone, in greater darkness, or closer to death than when I was laboring with Sofia. I had endeavored to give birth without pain medication, in part due to a certain book I was reading, partially because I wanted to experience what the apostle Paul meant when he said "the whole creation has been groaning in the pains of childbirth" (in reference to the curse of sin on the world), and also due to a bit of pride, wanting to show that I had a high pain tolerance and a will of steel (I would not have admitted this at the time). However, after two sleepless nights and ten hours of intense, then excruciating pain, I requested relief in the form of an epidural. The pain relief was sweet but I could not help feeling like a failure. While I left the hospital with a healthy baby, I also brought home a traumatized spirit. 

Then a year later, I discovered that I was pregnant, again. Immediately I began thinking about what I would do when it came time to deliver the baby: would I attempt another pain med free birth or would I choose an epidural? I spent almost the entire nine months of the pregnancy contemplating its end, and as my belly grew larger and the end loomed nearer, I became more and more fearful and anxious at the thought of repeating the darkest hours of my life. 

Toward the end of the nine months, I began to feel the slight cramping pains of early labor. Because they felt like what I experienced in the 24 hours leading to Sofia's birth, I anxiously alerted Daniel to what I thought was imminent labor. He began preparing to leave work, and I notified a few family and friends. 

But then, nothing happened. 

For three days I continued with the same cramps, and each day I wondered if that day would then be the day I would go into labor. 

Then the pain stopped. 

I was angry.

I had spent the past week living anxiously on edge, waiting, wondering, and even hoping that the labor would commence, just to get it over with. I was angry with God that He would let my body trick me into thinking the time was near when it wasn't. My pride was hurt, because as a second time mom, I would think that I would know when I was going into labor. In frustration, I gave up any hope that baby's birthday could be any time soon. 

The next day, I relinquished my worry. I wanted to give birth. The past week of anticipation purged me of my negative thoughts toward birth and ignited a drive to get it done, no matter how it felt. I was ready to meet my baby. So that day, I ignored the protruding belly before me and carried out my day like any other, ending the day peacefully falling asleep in my bed.

And then, I awoke, at 6 AM the next morning to a small gush of water.

This time, I knew. The day was here.

No more fearful anxiety, now it was eager anticipation. 

I waited until my toddler awoke around 7 AM before I woke Daniel to the news. Once she did, we packed our bags and headed to my mom's house to drop off Sofia before turning toward the hospital. Once we arrived at the somehow peacefully quiet hospital, I changed into the standard hospital garb and mentally prepared to get the process started. The nurses monitored me for a while and did a couple of tests, however they did not think I was far enough along to warrant a long stay.

I was almost frustrated after my previous week of waiting - but instead I chose to focus on my growing hunger pains and the blessing it would be to get some lunch.

We made the most of our waiting period and went to one of my favorite restaurants. It was a Sunday morning, which meant we were waiting for a table with the rest of the Sunday brunch crew.  Whilst waiting, my contractions were becoming gradually more intense and I had to pause with each one to maintain some measure of control and avoid looking like I was in pain. Somehow we managed to enjoy a delicious lunch with wonderful conversation in between my contractions. 

After lunch, the contractions still weren't strong enough for me to return to the hospital, though the were anything but comfortable. Instead we walked around downtown Sacramento and found ourselves at Capitol Park. It was the first beautiful day in weeks and springtime had shown up with bright blooming flowers and green grass in the park. In between the intensifying contractions, Daniel and I talked, laughed, and dreamed about our future. The day was turning into a wonderful date.

But then, it came to a point where it was time to return to the hospital.

I labored there for another hour and a half before requesting pain relief. I had finally chosen to just avoid the fear of the worst pains of labor. By God's grace, I received the epidural within minutes of requesting it. 

Early in the morning, I had thought that my water had broke, but apparently, it was only a small leak. After my epidural, I was still not progressing at the rate they thought I should be, so my doctor then broke my water for me. He gave me three hours.

Then we waited.

A couple of hours later, I started feeling funny: short of breath, nauseous, then uncontrollable shakes.  

It was go time.

Three pushes later, she was out.

With Sofia, I stared at her blankly, wondering who it was that just came out of my body. With Ava, I began crying immediately. 

She was beautiful. This little, unexpected, sometimes frustrating, baby girl was here. 

And she was worth it. 

I had prayed that this birth would be different. My family had prayed it would be different. My friends prayed that it would be different. 

And it was.

He is making all things new.