Welcome to the World!

Our second granddaughter, the fourth grandchild, came into the world one week ago today, arriving on Tuesday, March 9, 2021. Apparently, she wasn’t too eager to get here—was supposed to show up a week earlier. But as we all know, babies tend to arrive when they’re ready.

As every grandparent will tell you, she’s a beautiful baby. Of course, we’re grateful she entered the world healthy, and she and her mom are doing just fine.

This birth was quite a unique experience. Oh, the birth itself was typical—if there is such a thing. But the circumstances around it were a bit extraordinary, at least from my perspective.

When our children were born in the mid-80s, we did all the stuff newly expecting parents were told they needed to do. So, with the first pregnancy, we went to the childbirth classes where experts taught my wife how to employ certain breathing techniques, and I was taught how to be her coach. The goal was to “go natural” as much as possible…in a hospital room.

Nevertheless, the day arrived, and we headed to McDonough District Hospital in Macomb, IL. Our daughter was on her way! To make a long labor-story short, all the classes were for naught. I coached, Chris breathed, but baby refused to leave her cocoon…yet she had to. She was starting to show signs of distress.

So, I was ushered out of the delivery room and banished to the waiting room to pace. My wife was given anesthesia and headed to the operating room for a C-section.

The whole experience was anything but natural.

Seventeen months later, our son let it be known he was ready for this world, so off we went to Memorial Hospital in South Bend, Indiana. Again, as ready as he was, he refused to do things naturally. Off I went. Under my wife went. And he finally arrived, whether he wanted to or not.

All Natural Indeed!

With those birth experiences locked into my long-term memory, I was a tad apprehensive when our daughter announced she intended on hiring a mid-wife and having a home birth. In our house. In the living room. In a tub.

Now, why it was all to take place in our house is another long story and hers for the telling, not mine.

Nevertheless, that was the plan.

At about 2 a.m. on March 9, I was roused from near slumber and informed that the tub needed filling; the time was near. Perhaps it’s natural for a dad and homeowner to be a bit concerned about filling a 40-gallon kiddie pool with hot water in the living room.

Upon hearing the plan, my initial concern was whether the floor could handle the weight. Could you imagine if, in the middle of a serious contraction, the floor joists started to give way and everything collapse into the lower level? I did. I finally concluded that if the floor could hold up a piano, it would handle the kiddie pool. I hoped.

And what if it sprung a leak? We have hardwood floors, and the plastic floor covering would never handle 40 gallons!

What if the seams on the pool didn’t hold up to the hot water? They did, but I noticed early in the process that the heat caused the air inside the inflatable pool to expand. The walls were getting quite tight! If I hadn’t let some air out, then what?

Do I sound like a worry wart, or what? I mean, my granddaughter was about to be born, and I’m concerned that the pool might spring a leak??? Women readers are probably just rolling their eyes and sighing, “No, just a typical man!” Probably.

Forgotten Pain?

On a “souvenir copy” of the birth certificate left by the midwife was a quotation from Jesus that caught the new mom’s attention.

When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.

– John 16:21 (ESV)

Quite frankly, I have no idea the degree of pain involved in childbirth. Apparently on that pain-scale at the hospital—you know, the one where the nurse asks, “On a scale of 1-10, where would you rate your pain?”—normal childbirth pain must be somewhere around a 13? From what the new mom said of this delivery, hers was probably closer to 15.

So my daughter saw that verse two days after childbirth, still in a great deal of pain, and sort of chuckled and said, “If only!” or something like that. Now, she’s not one to argue with Jesus or dispute the accuracy of what He said, but 48 hours after giving birth it hurt! A lot!

Since I’m not a woman, never gave birth to a child, I never really gave Jesus’s statement a second thought. I suppose I just assumed that he meant the joy was so intense it overshadowed any lingering pain that might be felt. Yet that doesn’t seem to be what he said, though, does it?

Now that I think about it, in light of my daughter’s remark, I wonder how many women, sitting in church, heard the pastor read John 16:21 and start to squirm a bit. They’re not wanting to argue with Jesus or anything, but here they are, X years after their last child was born, and they could describe for you on a scale of 1-10 how great their labor pain was. At the very least, they may be wondering a thing or two.

Oh, the main idea is simple enough, all would admit. I witnessed it first-hand at 5:22 a.m. on March 9. At 5:21:30, the pain and anguish unquestionably were intense! Sixty seconds later, my wife and daughter cried with joy as Iliana rested in mom’s arms. The tears of anguish gave way to tears of joy and exclamations of “She’s so beautiful!!!” Even grandpa choked up a bit and shed a tear or two.

But a week later, in spite of all the joy Iliana brings, the pain isn’t altogether forgotten.

So what are we missing?

Help is found in a brief Greek grammar lesson. The word Jesus used, translated “remembers,” is in the present tense, which means it could be paraphrased, “to keep on recalling and thinking about again and again” [Johannes P. Louw and Eugene Albert Nida, Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament]. It implies a deliberate, conscious effort to remember something.

Ahh, now the meaning becomes clear. With the arrival of this new little bundle of joy, mom doesn’t go around day after day mulling over all the pain she went through bringing “this kid” into the world! Those memories get pushed to the deep recesses of the mind, crowded out by the joy and excitement and pleasure of a new member of the family. To be sure, the everyday reality of caring for the needs of her child comes to the forefront of her mind.

Yes, for days after baby is born, painful after-effects linger before they gradually subside. Pain that can’t be ignored. But mom’s conscious, deliberate focus is on her baby, not her pain.

And yes, if she tries, she can consciously bring up memories of pain from the back rooms of her mind. But she doesn’t. There’s too much joy to be found looking into those little eyes, dressing in those little outfits, cuddling in a soft blanket, singing a tender lullaby, giving life to a part of her.

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