One of the most incredible and memorable experiences in life is the birth of a baby. Moms, even if it’s been 70 years since you’ve given birth, I bet you can remember nearly every detail. You remember when and where you went into labor, who was with you at the time, how long it took and what you felt through it all.
You may even recall something of the pain you endured, though hopefully the joy of seeing your baby has far eclipsed the momentary anguish of the actual delivery process. Personally, I thought it was a piece of cake, though my wife may beg to differ.
Nothing really prepares you for the moment of birth. For nine months prior to our first child being born we planned for his arrival. We bought a crib with “some assembly required,” which was probably the most difficult thing about this whole pregnancy business. We shopped for cute little outfits. We baby-proofed the house. We held long and vigorous discussions about possible names for our child. We talked with other parents about what to expect and how we should go about raising this little one. So when the time came, we were all ready to go.
But there is something miraculous, even mysterious, about witnessing a baby being born into the world. I guess we weren't prepared at all. We had seen the grainy ultrasound pictures, we heard the heart beating, we felt the baby’s movements in the womb; so we knew this was a real, living being. But when we actually saw our baby’s birth, we were overwhelmed.
There was joy mixed with love mixed with awe mixed with excitement mixed with gratitude mixed with just about every other emotion you can imagine. If you’ve been there you know what I’m talking about. It was a holy, sacred moment. I even cried.
Two days later they let us take him home. I distinctly remember thinking, “So, they’re just going to let us walk out of here with this baby, all by ourselves? What are we supposed to do with him when we get home? Who’s going to make sure we’re doing everything right? Who’s going to help us change his diapers, give him baths, rock him to sleep and generally take care of him?”
Well, apparently, they don’t send the nurses home with you. I cried some more. We have a video of me attempting to strap our two-day old baby into the car seat in the parking lot of Rockford Memorial Hospital. The video runs for about four minutes as I fumble with the straps and vainly try to figure out how this seat works. At some point I turn to my wife who’s filming this episode and sweetly say, “You can turn that thing off now.” I’ve chosen to not remember how much longer we sat in that parking lot before finally getting him buckled in.
Life has never been the same since. There are times of frustration and anxiety, periods of feeling total inadequacy and epic failures. But there’s a blessing in raising children like nothing else. There remains an ever-present joy and gratitude to God for such a precious gift as children. The constant weight of responsibility for the care and well-being of a child never goes away. Our dependency upon the Lord for His help in this role as parents increases daily. I’ve never regretted it, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Parents never get over the joy of having children. And if I may say so, a Christian never gets over the joy of having Christ as Savior and Lord and Friend. There’s nothing else in the world like having a personal relationship with Jesus, the Almighty God of heaven and earth. I can’t describe it adequately for you. But I can invite you to come and see for yourself. You’ll never regret it.
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