This morning as I began reading my Bible at 5:20 I remembered that I was reading the exact same passages at exactly the same time exactly two years ago. It was the 29th of November and I was interrupted between chapter and verse by contractions that brought me closer and closer to a beautiful 7:10 a.m. delivery on a very sunny Tuesday morning.
Ivan’s was my ideal delivery…not the whole child birth experience as he was soon after whisked away from me to go to the hospital and get his lungs jump started. So often I look at him and wonder if he’s really mine. I acknowledge that he looks very much like Kris’ family but I didn’t see him for several hours after his birth and since he looks very little like me…I wonder sometimes if he got switched somehow. I also acknowledge that there were no other babies over 7 pounds in the NICU at Vanderbilt that week so the chances of him being switched are as remote as a good presidential candidate in 08. I hope none of you are reading this thinking I really truly question it, it just crosses my mind now and then and I really find it comical that I even have the thought.
I remember dressing him quickly and watching as Kris packed him in the car seat and his long arms sort of swinging baby and carrier as he left my sight through the bedroom door and down the stairs. I can honestly say I never worried at that time about his health or recovery. I knew in my “knower” that he was fine, that he would ultimately be fine, and that this wouldn’t be a big deal in the long run. Of course he is fine and though it was a long week for our family and for our friends who not only prayed for us and visited us, but also took turns taking care of Owen for us throughout the week. It was also a great week of faith and victory. We saw God not only protect Ivan from what could have been a life altering diagnosis of meningitis, we saw Him move mountains in the form of scheduling the right doctor at the right time, and changing the thinking of those who refused to be reassigned. We asked for the moon without realizing how big or far away it was and He wrapped it up for us and handed it over.
From the moment we first looked at him and through his infancy the word people used over and over to describe him was “sweet.” I know lots of babies are called sweet and that they all are sweet, but it was more than just a simple “look how sweet.” It was like a look came over people and a realization about who Ivan is as they declared him sweet. Now, I’m not pretending to say that my boy has some superior handle on sweetness, in fact in the last 6 months or so I have questioned it’s existence within him. Which is why I think I was given those encouraging words from people. It’s something to hold on to. Despite the almost constant whining and “NOOOO!” and strong willed head shaking and face pinching expressions, he is ultimately a very sweet boy. I admire his strength and passion, his aggressive play and intense full force approach to everything he does. I can’t wait to see what God does with my sweet two year old boy.
With all that God has done for me sometimes I really think I hear Him in the words of Frank Capra’s George Bailey with the twang of Jimmy Stewart…”What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That’s a pretty good idea. I’ll give you the moon, Mary.” It really is a Wonderful Life!