Our witnesses included my OB, his assistant, my nurse, Julie, the anesthesiologist, one nurse for each of my girls and a nurse specialist (due to their size and possible complications). 

I lay there, growing increasingly numb from the spinal, taking deep breaths, drinking in this moment before. I felt waves of prayer washing over me, the names and faces of so many who I had texted that morning, over the last few months, who had walked this pregnancy with me, this life with me. The gift of their prayers and support overwhelmed me in those moments before. 

I felt the thickness of God's presence and power and the great gift of Christian fellowship. The amazing beauty of being held up and supported by my brothers and sisters. Me! Raised as an only child, feeling so very alone for so much of my life, surrounded by such a family as this. By fellow children of God.

I had a brief bit of nausea from the medication. Turning my head to gag and dry heave, praying as I did so. Praying over this place and these people and my children and my body and God's hand to be in all of it. As wave after wave of nausea hit me, the soothing voice of the anesthesiologist broke through, reassuring me as he counteracted the drugs' ill effects. I thanked him. So thankful for his skill and knowledge. For his participation in this beautiful day of mine.

I continued to crack jokes as we waited for their arrival. Nathan entered, sitting at my bedside, still a bundle of nerves. I teased him, teased my OB, teased the anesthesiologist. Jokes all around.

As the moment approached, a solemness swept in. I felt the gentle push and pull of life emerging.

And heard one cry. 

Then two.

They had arrived. My girls.

I heard their cries, and I was undone. 

Our girls.

Kate

 

Emma

I looked at the man next to me. This wonderful man. My fellow adventurer, partner, supporter, best of all friends. This was our day. In the line between us, in the ties that bound us together, was the source of all this blessing and beauty. 

"I love you."

"I love you."

As we reminded one another, we solidified it once again, in this OR, in front of all these witnesses. 

There was a heaviness, a deep reality of two things in that place. Our God. And our love.

Emma's birth weight was a bit low, so she was whisked off to the NICU. Katie cried and thrived and joined us in the recovery room.

It's not the birth story that so many write about. Beautiful births in water, at home, with low light and deep breaths. 

It was medical and sterile and surgical. But beautiful just the same.

Our girls are here. They are healthy and strong and loved.

My husband was there. Holding me, making me healthy and strong and loved.

Our friends and family were there, are here. In prayer and in person. Showering us, supporting us with health, strength and love.

Our God was there, is here. Uniting us. Blessing us with health and strength and love.

And that is truly beautiful.