Five years ago out in the country…

I was in my bed fast asleep, the windows open so that I could hear the sleepy tones of the crickets chirping. I suddenly found myself being pulled from my deep sleep into a semi-consciousness – and from semi-consciousness into a rather sleepy wakefulness. My dad was massaging the back of my neck. I looked at him in sleepy wonder, maybe a little irked that he had woken me. “I need your help,” he said softly, not wanting to wake my sisters. A thousand confused thoughts went through my brain, but I finally landed on the most logical – and the correct idea. Mom was going to have the baby! Now fully awake, I climbed down the ladder of the bunk bed and softly followed him into the living room. He handed me the phone and said, “The midwife is at another birth, so she’s not going to make it out here.” He handed me a business card. “This is her number. I may have you call her in case I need some directions…” I looked at him in surprise. So my DAD was going to play doctor and deliver the baby all by his lonesome? Realizing that he was still talking, I refocused. “… thought this might happen since the midwife is so far away anyhow, which is why we’ve been reading a lot about it. Do you know how to dial 9-1-1?” I bit back a sarcastic comment. “Sure, Dad! I’m 12 and I’ve only known that since I was like… 6. Besides that, if I didn’t already know, you would’ve just told me by asking the question!” Instead, I just nodded mutely. He asked me to put in some relaxing music, then said that I could just sit on the couch and be ready to do anything else he needed. I walked over to our CD selection and picked one of my favorites – Piano Cascades.


As I sat there on the couch, I studied the midwife’s number, running my fingers over the buttons in order to practice dialing as fast as I could. I didn’t even think about 9-1-1. I didn’t want to. I looked at the clock and wondered how long the process would take. I prayed for Mom. I prayed for Dad. I prayed for the baby. And prayed that it would be a boy. I wished that it was a more earthly hour so that I could call my good friend Erin and tell her what was going on. Then I realized that I couldn’t do that anyhow… Not if I was supposed to keep the phone line free. The clock struck 3. I was hearing a lot from Mom and Dad’s room, but I don’t remember all of it, but just as the clock quieted I hear a cry. And Dad’s very happy, “I think it’s a boy!” Dad called me in a moment later, and I stroked the top of the baby’s head, then ran to get my sisters. We all looked at our minutes-old brother, and fell completely in love.  Or at least I did. Now I’m not sure that I should have prayed so hard for a boy. He’s quite a handful. I hardly remember what life was like without him.

My brother’s name is Matthew Seth – though everyone knows him as Seth. I believe that Matthew means “Gift of God” and Seth means “Appointed” but I may have got the meanings switched. As we celebrated his fifth birthday on Monday, I thought about just how much I love him – in spite of his numerous and often-displayed faults. And I thank God for my little brother, praying that some day he will be mightily used in the service of the King.

(Hmm… all the baby pictures are on the laptop, so I guess I’ll get on there later and add some)


4 responses to this post.

  1. OMG! That is almost exactly how my 6 year old brother’s birth was like! That is wierd!


  2. Wow…You’re dad is brave. Mine can barely stay in the room… =P


  3. Hi! Thanks for commenting!!!! I have very few people who ever comment, so don’t be sorry. 🙂 Even though I love comments! lol. Yep, the midwife got to our house 5 minutes after he was born!

    Thanks again!
    Buttercup 😛


  4. Posted by Morgan on July 14, 2009 at 11:16 pm

    That sounds alot like my brother isaac’s birth. My mama had him by herself in her bedroom. But that isn’t unusual because my mama has all her kids at home, usually alone. :):)


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