A man, a room, his tears, his joys, his Father...

This is, without a doubt, one of the toughest days I will see in my life. I'm sitting in the hospital room with a flurry of conflicting emotions running through me. This room is more than likely, statistically anyway, the room in which my daughter will be born, and subsequently pass away. That sucks!

Keri began having serious contractions and bleeding last night and we found ourselves at the hospital around midnight(ish). Since then things have progressed to the point that an epidural was warranted, however, Keri has already mentioned that might not have been the best idea with how her body has responded. It appears the team here has gotten things under control with her blood pressure and nausea and Keri might be resting peacefully. I say might because I'm not 100% sure. I really don't want to check and potentially disturb her.

So while she is resting, I'm kind of alone with my heart, thoughts, emotions, mind... my God. As I said, a flurry of emotions as I try to play out in my head what the day will be like. I know better than that because there is no way in the world I can even come close to having a clue. My heart rejoices in the knowledge that I get to meet my baby girl, but I cry at the same time knowing that means the clock is ticking. Our family is in the room next door and I can only imagine what they are feeling today as they too wait, not hearing from or seeing Keri or me. I'm thankful for the beautiful nurse tending to Keri who is sharing in our faith, our story, and updating family when necessary.

As I look around the room, I can't imagine losing a life here. It's not that the room is bright and cheery and bubbling over with joy, excitement, and life, but it's also not sad. It's just a room, simple, clean, not colorful, just a room. In the middle of the room is the most beautiful and amazing woman I know. She is strong, merciful, tender, compassionate, lovely, beautiful, and good. There are a lot of people in the world, but there is none other that I would rather be in this room with.

I think back to when Mayla was born. Think, actually I'm visual and recall it very vividly. It was awful, and by awful I mean Keri worked her fanny off, toughest person I've ever met. I then try to visualize what todays events will hold, I can't. Time out, the I.V. pump is beeping and just brought Keri to life when she was finally relaxing and almost asleep, grrr. In any case, when I begin to attempt to figure out the day and come to my senses that I can't, I start praying. I hope that I'll be mature enough in my faith, someday, that I can just skip the visuals and go right to praying. I'm so thankful that I serve a God who is loving, merciful, tender, compassionate, strong, a warrior. One who has gone before me (us) and has won the battle for our hearts, and the battle with the enemy. One who I can draw strength from, live off, when I have none and when I "think" I have tons. One who knows and hears my hearts cry, when I have no words. One who knows my pain because he suffered through it too as his own son hung on a cross, just so I can have these moments with him to talk, cry out, and ask why. He is good. He is my Father. He carries me. He sustains me. He provides for me. He is my breath. He is the creator of heaven and earth and all things good. He is Arabella's Father. He is in control of today, of everyday. He knows the outcome of today. If He chooses to heal Arabella's anencephaly, he knows why. If He chooses not to, he knows why and He is the same loving, kind, good Father in either case. He has gifted us with the greatest opportunity in the world, to be a parent to Arabella. This is a role we took very seriously and have made the absolute best out of it. No regrets! If Arabella meets him face to face today, I rejoice knowing her work is done. There will be a void in my heart, forever, no words, proverbs, scriptures, sayings, songs, hugs, touches, etc. can ever fill. But what a blessing to know my daughters work is done, and well done good and faithful servant.

So today we celebrate! Probably with a TON of tears, but we celebrate. We will celebrate the life of our daughter, who I fully expect to be exceedingly beautiful even though I have no basis for thinking that except for Keri and her beauty. That said, Arabella has a part of me in her too and that might not bode so well for her physical beauty (poor girl)... Regardless, today, assuming she does in fact come today which it looks like she may, is a beautiful gift to our family and I'm thankful for the beautiful work He has done in us over these last months. I'm humbled by his goodness and faithfulness and how he meets each of us, you included, right where we are, right where we need him. I'm also humbled by the outpouring of support, encouragement, prayers, words, texts, messages, emails, and more, that have been pouring in. People we have never met are writing, texting, and offering incredible acts of kindness and generosity. While many more whom we know, and who know us, do the same and bless us beyond words. We are eternally grateful; we do not have enough words, or the right words to truly express our gratitude, but thank you. May you be blessed as you have blessed us and may you too experience the only true love and grace that completes us, makes us whole, and brings us life.

~Will