Getting this party started
It was many months ago that the Far Away Sparkette discovered that she was expecting to give us a brand new little GrandSpark. We looked forward to meeting that sweet little bit, due on Christmas Day. I began making plans to head north for the holidays this year, as the Sparkette asked me to be her birth coach, just as I had been with the first GrandSpark back in May of 2011.
The Sparkette had an ultrasound at about 20 weeks and was delighted to learn that she was expecting a little girl. We all looked forward to meeting little Eloise Kay, who would be known as Ella…or Lulu…or any other number of names. The collection of all things pink and flowered-y and sweet began. The Sparkette began making room for Ella’s things by cleaning out most of Ryland’s extra clothes. After all, he was a boy born in a Florida summer, and she needed things for a girl in a midwestern winter. And since she doesn’t plan to have more than two, it only made sense to clear out any unneeded items.
Fast-forward to yesterday morning. The Sparkette was scheduled to have labor induced. Thus began a very long day of slow-moving labor. Eloise was taking her own sweet time at getting here. She made it clear she was entering this world on her terms, thank you very much.
At 6:07am on 12-21-2012, the day the Mayan calendar predicted as the end of the word, the Sparkette gave the final push that launched a tiny 7 lb, 10 oz. body with a head full of dark, wavy hair, into the world. As the doctor lifted the baby onto the Sparkette’s chest, I immediately saw that this baby was going to be a total game-changer.
Most Eloises don’t pack a load of boy junk in their diapers. It seemed pretty safe to say that the ultrasound tech got the gender of the baby VERY wrong.
The doc and I both saw the issue immediately and gasped as we looked at one another. She said “you want to tell?” I took a deep breath.
“I don’t think this is going to be an Eloise…this is a little boy!”
We were all a little shocked, and yet…here was this perfect little boy launching his protest at being thrust out of his mini man cave and into the world of bright lights, loud noises, and cool air. He had arrived, in more ways than one. We admired him, slowing adjusting to the idea that we had to let Eloise go so we could embrace the miracle in front of us.
The Sparkette didn’t even have a boy name picked out. We really didn’t have a clue who this little guy was. We just knew he was here.
The odd thing is that as the Sparkette and I had settled her into her room for the induction on the previous morning, we had a conversation about how we’d both found ourselves nagged by “what if the ultrasound tech was wrong?” thoughts. When the eldest Sparkette arrived later that morning and was surprised by the news, after a moment of shock she said “you know, I was thinking just yesterday: what if the baby isn’t really a girl?” I don’t recall any of us second-guessing the ultrasound for Ryland. but then again, his ultrasounds left zero doubt as to his gender as he was all but pointing to his package and grinning at the ultrasound transducer. But this time we all had a caution deep in our spirits that didn’t necessarily lessen the shock of the moment, but kept us from entertaining any lingering disappointment that would hold us back from fully loving this little gift.
Nothing about this little boy is an accident. He is one of the most obviously purposeful lives I’ve ever known. Destined as a Christmas gift, born on the day humans feared the apocalyptic end of the world, and solid in his identity with no regard to human expectation, it’s as if God was sending the message that it is He who gets the final word, and He is the Giver of every good and perfect gift. And this is a very good gift.
So welcome, Kendall Micah, named for your grandfathers. You may not be what we expected, but you are exactly what you are supposed to be. And we love it.