Happy Birthday, Stephen, "Crowned One"

Part 1: Flashback to late December, 1990:

When I found out I was pregnant with him, I cried. Not out of happiness at first, but because I felt overwhelmed. Granted, I had just started wanting another baby, but Benjamin was not quite 3 and Sarah not quite 2. I had been through terrible post-partum depression with her, wondering if I was even a "fit mother," but too ashamed to talk openly about it to anyone. I felt housebound and no longer attractive, and only had two hands, two legs, two ears, and two of nearly every other body part a mom depends upon to take care of children. On the count of three, I would be outnumbered. I was scared. I was also afraid to announce my pregnancy because of all the potential comments such as, "What else do you and Paul do for fun?" (They were not just potential; they were kinetic, if you know what I mean.)

Ironically (if irony and sovereignty are compatible) I was volunteering at the Greater Baltimore Crisis Pregnancy Center as a counselor. I had counseled hundreds of young women and girls with one simple fact: no matter how unplanned their children were by them, God had already planned them from the foundation of the world. Now here it was my turn to receive truth.

Candace was my counselor. She was a gorgeous personal trainer and former model. I wasn't sure she could possibly understand me, or why I didn't hate her for her beauty and strength (just kidding) but I bonded with her. She wanted to know why I was crying so much at every little thing that night (counselors were supposed to be able to "hold it together" while with clients) and if I was feeling out of sorts. I joked at first that I'm always scatterbrained and a little emotional, but she probed and drew me upstairs to a quiet room. There I poured out my heart to her and sobbed and sobbed that I thought I was pregnant. How could I ever handle three kids? And so close together? Yes, I always wanted four, but spread out over 10 years, not three of them in the first four years! My husband's reaction would eventually be a happy one, but we were barely making ends meet with his $19,000 salary. Diapers alone were $10 a bag and we had two in diapers already. Our house was a little two-bedroom duplex with a dinky yard. I had a close friend, Kathy, with multiple children and knew she would be thrilled. I also had a friend, Kim, who had been infertile for years, and I dreaded telling her. I vowed not to tell her, but to just let her find out from someone else.

Candace, lovely and loving Candace, heard my fears and then gently stopped me on the heavily pitted What-if Trail. I don't remember her exact words, but the gist was, "Let's just take a test. You don't know for sure, and why put yourself through all this when you don't even know if the test is positive?"

She ran a three-minute test. While it was running, as was our custom as counselors with clients, we talked more about the future. Somehow she pointed me to the grace of God, to His blessing us even in our unworthiness, to the what-ifs for the life of this child. He or she might bring many sinners to Jesus. Might teach God's Word or comfort the suffering. Might discover the cure for cancer. She helped me see much farther beyond the helpless baby in the crib to see a glimpse of his purpose in being born at this time, to us.

In the three minutes it took to run the pregnancy test, my heart had changed. No longer was I scared, but now I was at peace. In fact, I had joy. I had been chosen to be the mother of three! I was not inflicted with babies, I was chosen to mother them. A privilege, not a problem! Imagine, maybe a third pair of blue eyes looking back at me in the rearveiw mirror. A third pair of soft cheeks to stroke. A third baby to nurse, to play with, to snuggle, to share with grandparents, to name, to teach, to train, to take to church, to lead to Christ.

Or maybe not. Let me see that test! Suddenly I couldn't bear the thought of it being negative.

Then I beheld a glorious plus sign. God was adding to our number.

Tears of thankfulness and hope and joy ran down my face like summer rain. What three minutes in the presence of Truth can do to a soul!

Candace hugged me tightly and said, "What a Christmas present, huh?"

"Got any wrapping paper around here?" I asked her, and she scrounged up a scrap of blue Christmas angel paper in the office, with which--some readers will find this gross-- I wrapped up the positive pregnancy test. I practically skipped out to my car afterwards. (Candace knew I was probably less good for clients as I left than when I'd come in! There's nothing more absentminded and emotional than a pregnant woman.)

I could hardly wait to tell Paul he was about to be the father of three.


Next: Part II: The Daddy's Reaction and What Happened Next