I don't know where to begin to tell the ending of the story, for in so many ways it feels like a beginning. But where does that beginning start?

Somehow, after all that we had been through, day after day, terrifying scenario after what-could-be's, I think I knew in my heart how it had to end, and some part of me was prepared in a sub-conscious way to accept that things with the baby's birth would not be uncomplicated. After all, he has a story to tell about how God protected him all during his in-utero existence, and the story ending with 'and I was born, and I lived happily ever after' seemed not to fit with the plan.

We went to the hospital that evening of the 9th, and I knew that all day and the night before, I had been in labor, but the contractions were far apart, albeit strong, so I thought we had a ways to go. I had been up since 5, feeling sick, and just trying to manage the contractions while having a normal day. We had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon, so I thought I would just wait and see what he had to say before I made any assumptions.

And he agreed-we were going to have the baby that evening, he said. So he sent us to walk, and walk we did. For three hours, and finally I had progressed enough to be admitted to hospital and have the real work of labor begin (and end).

I was the only one on the whole labor and delivery floor that evening. What a strange sensation to have a whole hospital team at my disposal. Little did I know that I would soon need every person. For months, I had been praying for the nurses and doctors that would help us in the delivery of our child, and I had been praying God's preparation upon their hearts and their hands to both hear and see the work of the Lord through the birth of our child. I had been asking God to set up the players, and to play the game, that He might receive the glory.

On paper, everything was normal. Big contractions, regular intervals between them, and I was doing well with the pain. Then all of a sudden everything changed. I could not describe the pain that felt like it was ripping through my bones on the one side of my body. This was not labor. This was not normal. So they turned up my medication, and watched me. Within 5 contractions, I was unable to bear the pain, shaking, sweating, and letting tears roll down my face, soaking the bed. If the doctor had been watching the monitor alone, I would be dead. I was blessed with his presence in the room.

He whisked Kurt out almost violently to talk to him in the hallway, and I knew that I was done. I knew that something was wrong, and that we would be ending this labor in the operating room. And I was so glad. I was so tired. I hurt so badly. I was so wrung out. They came back into the room, and they told me that we were heading to a c-section, and I just nodded.

Two people grabbed each side of the sheet I was on, and like a tablecloth being whisked out from under a set of dishes, I was on a gurney. The hallway lights, bank after rectangular bank of them, flashed overhead, and then we were in the darkness of the elevator, listening for the ping of the first floor where I would meet our newest little one.

"Es hermoso tu 'baby', Kimberley!" He's beautiful...and then a snuffly little nose was brought to mine. I turned my head. I kissed his nose. Would I see him later?

It was well after 1:30 in the morning. Suddenly the table was moving, and I was under a new set of lights. The recovery room. The doctor came in and woke me gently. "Casi mueras ésta noche," he tells me, and explains that I almost died. He says that my uterus, as he opened me up, flayed on contact with his knife, and the baby's shoulder popped out. Usually it takes several cuts to get through the muscle. That means that within a few contractions, the uterus itself would have ruptured on its own, and he would have had to choose between saving me or saving the baby. As it was, my artery ruptured as soon as the baby was pulled out. They were able to cauterize it, but I lost a lot of blood. I just nod.

Finally, it is 4 in the morning, I am able to wiggle a toe, and they send me from recuperation to the hospital room. Kurt is waiting there. And I realize that it's over. God was faithful to protect us, and we survived. He is so good.

God has a plan for this little one. I cannot wait to see how God works in his life.