The summer of ’88 was a summer of heat and drought, which my pregnant wife and I weathered in an unairconditioned garden level apartment. Wednesday night August 17 was as steamy as the rest, made even more unpleasant for my wife because she was more than a week overdue with our first child. We went to Wednesday night service at our church that evening and our pastor had me, and the rest of the congregation, pray that the baby would come soon but not before service was over.
About midnight that night the heat wave broke and the temperature dropped by about 20 degrees in two hours time. My wife, and apparently nearly every other full-term pregnant woman in St. Paul, went into labor. When we arrived at our hospital early on the morning of August 18th every bed in the Labor and Delivery area was already full. It turned out to be a day of complications that kept our prayer chain busy as we waited for space in L&D to open up, waited for an anesthesiologist to show up and administer an epidural (which didn’t take), waited an hour and a half for another anesthesiologist to come and try again while I tried to be as calm and comforting as I could be while my wife went through contraction after contraction. When she rested in between I would step out of her line of sight and lift whatever piece of furniture or heavy equipment I could get my hands on to vent my own frustration. I think the nurses were ready to call another anesthesiologist to bring a tranquilizer dart. At 4:33 p.m. it was all worth it.
The baby’s name and sex had been known to us almost from the beginning of the pregnancy. My wife had had severe endometriosis years before and her obstetrician had told her she was unlikely to have children. That really wasn’t in her plans anyway, so she had consented to a tubal ligation to remove all doubt. Then we were married in October of ’87 and pregnant in November. Shortly after the initial shock wore off my wife told me she was absolutely certain the baby was a girl, and she wanted to name her Faith. Our pastor arrived in the hospital about the time the photo above was taken. As he walked into our room I said, “Now Faith is.” (See Hebrews 11:1).
It has been a delight to be a part of her growing up. From infant to toddler to little girl to young woman every stage has been more wonderful than the last for her mother and I as we’ve watched her personality and gifts come through. For example, even from a young age the budding Mall Diva liked going to the Mall of America and trying things on.
She’s also always had a sense of style. Once when she was four or five her mother entered her bedroom and pronounced it a mess. Faith countered by saying, “It’s a design.” Now she is 17 years old today and who knows what is next. In addition to her career as a personal shopper (see the link above) she’ll soon have her Cosmetology license and is considering going to college to study fashion and design, though she thinks she’d also like to further develop her skills as a musician, singer and artist.
As for me, I’m not too concerned about her future, and as for today we’ll just enjoy the birthday present. She’s already been a better gift than we ever could have imagined. Happy Birthday, sweetie!
Happy Birthday, Faith!
Indeed, a most happy birthday to you!