I knew Bethany would be induced on July 27, as we'd talked earlier in the week. Sunday morning I ran at White Rock and as I wrapped up my run received a "come now" text. Things were moving faster than Bethany anticipated. This being her fourth baby, she had an *idea* of how things might go, but babies come in their own time. And Finn was ready to meet his family.
After a rushed shower, I hurried to the hospital where things were steadily progressing. I've known Bethany and Mark for over 20 years; they're my sister's best friends. That said, seeing the two of them prepare to welcome Finn allowed me to witness a deep love play out in the midst of the intensity of birth. I can't quite put words to the beauty of it. And then, Finn.
As soon as he was out, at 11:37 am, he worked his little lungs, wanting his whole 8 pound, 6 ounce, 21 inch self to be known. To witness a birth is to see the miracle of new life. I still can't look at these photographs without crying. As soon as Finn was placed in Bethany's arms, he settled. He was home; he knew it. Oblivious to the surrounding excitement, Finn captured his parents heart.
And then there's the part not long after his arrival where his big siblings arrived. They were literally jumping for joy, excitement radiating on their faces. The immediacy and depth of their affection for Finn amazed me. I loved getting to see them peer through the windows in the nursery and dance down the hall as the nurse pushed Finn to Bethany's room so the siblings could formally meet. And then he was in their arms. They ooed and ahhed and snuggled. Extended family came and went. Gifts were exchanged. The baby was passed around to pairs of arms welcoming, celebrating, loving him. All that is right and good and true in the world showed up at a hospital in Arlington, Texas that morning, for Finn had arrived.
