We are getting so close.

We approved all the proofs on Robin’s upcoming book last week!  Then, we got an email from our production manager that she found an error on…the cover!! HA!  We had spelled the word “forward” instead of “foreword”…  So, we had to stop the presses and get it fixed.  Just a few moments ago we approved everything again and things should be rolling soon.  Below is an excerpt from chapter 4, describing the day Kennady was born.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

        We arrived at the doorstep of week thirty-eight and with it came the scheduled C-section delivery. Saturday, November 24, 2001, two days after Thanksgiving, Erica and I loaded the car early in the morning and took a nervous ride to Brackenridge Hospital. Our moms and dads were waiting there to greet us at the door. Kennady was to be the first grandchild for both sets of parents. While we waited for surgery, family members and church friends filtered through, offering prayers and advice. I sat with great anticipation and thought of all the possibilities.

I just knew that the doctor would deliver our baby girl, and there would be a miracle in the room. Everyone would be shocked as we saw our baby’s completely healthy body enter the world. We would glorify God because of the miracle He had performed for us all. Final tests would scientifically confirm the great work that an all-knowing, all-powerful God had accomplished. Just then, a nurse peeked her head around the corner and said, “It’s time to go!” Positioning herself as the wheelchair driver, she rolled Erica down the long hallway. The drama and delay began to crescendo with each rotation of the wheelchair across the linoleum flooring. I watched as the corridor narrowed, and Erica shrank out of sight.

My waiting continued until finally, I was called into the delivery room. I walked into a pristine, white room. Nurses and doctors worked around Erica. She was awake and able to squeak out a smile for me. I came to her side, and we whispered about how cold the room was. She was already prepped. Within a few quick moments, the doctor reached in and brought our daughter into the room.

The first moments of birth are life-changing—a flash of time every parent remembers forever. The first breaths, the first cry, the open eyes as they capture the hearts of everyone in the room.  We looked in awe at the miracle of life—a distinct stand-alone frame in time—and in the next blink, our hearts sank a notch. We saw that her head was much larger than average.

I went straightaway to the small table where she was being tended to and began holding her hand and speaking to her. There was so much love between dad and baby girl at that moment. Standing there, I realized that my life was going to be different. I realized then that I needed to change my attitude, my expectations, and my prayers. My perspective needed to be shaped, not by my education or experience, but by how God was choosing to work through this child. Of course, all of those thoughts went un-articulated, but looking back, I see that moment at the bedside was monumental in the building of my faith. A day would come, not so far off, that my prayers, attitudes and expectations did indeed change.

That said, the worst was yet to come. The medical team sent our daughter immediately into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). The doctors wanted to perform an MRI early in the day to determine the extent of the birth defect. We all patiently waited and spoke with family members who were visiting the hospital. We were praying and believing for the MRI to show signs of healing.  We just knew that it was only a matter of time before things would turn around. But, this was not the time…