Once upon a time, I gave birth to a baby girl on Good Friday and it felt like a miracle.
We were in the midst of a long season that had been hard in every way imaginable. I was exhausted in every way imaginable.
I was scheduled to be induced on Easter Monday, at 38 weeks and 3 days. My son’s Philadelphia oncologist needed to see him on my due date for Very Important Follow-Up. But Philadelphia is far from home, and both parents have to be present, so we split the difference: I would be induced a little early, and the follow-up would be a little late. Not perfect, but good enough.
But then my husband broke his foot. I called my obstetrician and begged him to move up my induction so I could get to the wondrous land of call buttons and around-the-clock care as soon as possible. He said he’d induce at 38 weeks and not a minute before.
So on Good Friday, we arrived at the hospital bright and early. Once upon a time, I had been adamantly opposed to inductions, but I needed to do what I thought was best for my babies–the one at home and the one in my womb.
The nurse started my pitocin drip, my husband propped up his casted foot, and we settled in for a long day. I was praying for a baby by dinnertime.
Not much was happening when my doctor decided he needed to break my water to do an internal monitor. When my water broke, my contractions started.
20 minutes later, our baby girl was born.
You can chalk it up to hormones if you want, but I have never felt mercy wash over me more powerfully than it did that morning.
I called friend after friend, saying “She’s here!” and always hearing, on the other end, “Already??” Childbirth is hard, but mine was so easy. I thought I’d come out of it exhausted; but that night I was practically skipping down the hospital corridors, wearing real clothes and trying to scrounge up a diet coke and some ice cream.
Good Friday is a day of sadness, yet it’s tightly bound to hope and love and new life. And mercy. So much mercy.
We brought our baby girl home from the hospital bright and early Easter Sunday: New Life to a home that had contained the very real fear of death not long before.
We were still in the midst of our hard season; it wouldn’t be letting up for a while yet.
But we were going to make it.
Today, and every Easter, we remember.
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10 comments
Easter is a great time to remember that we really are going to make it through the hard times, Anne. For me, I remember that Easter Sunday 39 years ago when my mother died after a long battle with cancer. I was 14 with my life a head of me; but her life truly began that day, in the eternal Presence.
Thank you for sharing your Easter story today, and for giving me a chance to briefly share mine.
Blessings,
Tim
Oh, what a bittersweet history. Thinking of you this week, Tim.
Love it. Your story made me smile and appreciate all the renewal and fresh starts that Easter and spring bring to our lives. Happy Easter! 🙂
Oh, Anne. This is beautiful. Love that you had such a bright moment amidst a trying and uncertain season.
Love this story, Anne. I enjoyed reading it as Anna sleeps and appetizers are baking for Easter guests. Your daughter’s birth story is truly very special. I love how God gives us beauty in the midst of pain.
Thanks so much, Lesley. That means a lot coming from you.
So beautiful 🙂 Happy Easter!
These reminders of life and grace are so powerful; I appreciate that you shared this.
I’m always amazed at the Easter stories of hope people have. My sister got a new (life saving) liver for Easter 11 years ago….we were incredibly blessed!
Wow, what an Easter to remember!