November 21:  It's about 2 am and I awoke 20 minutes ago to the sound of my 3 year old crying. She doesn't usually cry during the middle of the night, so something must've woken her up.  Hubby helped her fall back asleep and now they're both sound asleep.  I'm still awake though because around that time, I start noticing a change in the feel of my contractions. 

For the last few weeks, the contractions have come and gone at intermittent intervals, sometimes stronger than at other times, depending on how active I had been that day.  There were at least two evenings when I was certain that it was time to go to the hospital because the contractions were 5 minutes apart.  However, they always seemed to subside by the morning.  The contractions seem to start from one area and then spread from that center.  It felt like a tightening of my whole belly.  They were mildly painful but somewhat tolerable.  About 30 minutes ago, the contractions changed.  It feels more like my uterus is being squeezed as tightly as possible.  The pain wraps around from my front to my lower back.  These don't feel like "practice" anymore.

Had to stop writing because I was seized by a contraction for 5+ minutes, couldn't move, couldn't get off my chair.  In fact, I called Sam on the phone (he was in our bedroom sleeping) to tell him it's time to go to the hospital!  He thought it was a phone malfunction so hung up on me...twice!  I texted our friend Emily who lives up the street to come over (the plan was for her to sleep over until my mom could come get our 3-year old in the morning).  Finally, when the pain was over, I wadddled into the room and told Sam, "It's time to go!"  He leaped out of bed.

On the way to the hospital, my contractions stopped its regularity and the pain subsided.  I wondered if it was a mistake to be going to the hospital, but it was too late, we already called the doctor, Emily was already at our house... there was no choice but to move forward!  Hopefully, they wouldn't turn us away.   On the drive, I was chatty and in a great mood.  This was a great contrast to the last time I went into labor when my water broke and every inch on the road felt like a painful mile long. 

We arrived at the hospital minutes later and got checked in.  By the early morning, the contractions got increasingly painful... 

At 6:05 AM, a little baby boy let out his first cry... weighing a meager 6 lbs and 1 oz.  When the nurse brought him up to me and I saw him for the first time, I wanted to cry.  My heart overflowed with awe and amazement and gratitude as I saw a perfectly healthy baby boy.  All those months of cautious eating and prayer for a healthy baby were answered.  There had always been that knowing that I can pray and eat right and do all the right things, but the outcome was completely out of my hands.  Life is truly a gift from God and I had been keenly aware of it throughout my entire pregnancy.  The word "natan" in Hebrew means "gift", and that is exactly who he is -- a precious gift.

Over a week ago while we were parked at a red light, my 3 year old noticed a man walking along the median.  She asked me, "Mama, why is the man holding a sign?"  I explained to her that he didn't have a job and needed money and food.  There were several "why" questions and I ended it by telling her that we can pray for him and that we can ask God to show us what we can do to help him.  That night while I was praying and thanking God for all the things he has given us, my daughter interjected, "that man."  She remembered the man on the street and wanted us to pray for him -- that he could "take care of himself."  Every night, ever since then, she has remembered that man during our prayer time.  I love this about my daughter.  She remembers things.  She cares about people.  Her faithfulness to pray reminds me what faithfulness is.  I'm so thankful for her sweet spirit.

Many people feel strongly that we ought to celebrate one holiday at a time.  Christmas decorations in November, before Thanksgiving, seem hurried and somewhat ridiculous.  But for some of us, Christmas can't get here fast enough.  The Christmas tree, the twinkling lights, the velvet stockings, the flickering candles, the warm fires, the smell of pine, the celebratory time with family and, most importantly, the focus on the Word that became flesh...the entrance of the One who changed the whole world and the entire course of my life... how can I not love Christmas?

This year, the demand for an early commencement of Christmas celebration was urged most emphatically by our young preschooler.  And how can I resist?  The awe and wonder in her heart is mirrored in my own.  And when I hear her squeals and see her face light up, I am touched in profound new ways as I experience it all for the first time through her. 

This year, as we are putting up Christmas decorations, I find myself pausing every so often as a contraction arrests my attention.  It's the other reason that urges us along in our Christmas festivities -- the reality that by time that Christmas does arrive, so will our new baby -- and at that time, there won't be any available opportunity to do any decorating.  So as we hang up the stockings and pull out the strings of lights, I can't help but reflect on the many challenges that we will undoubtedly face as well as the joy that will well up within me when I finally get to see my son for the first time. 

Life is such a gift, and throughout the course of this pregnancy, I have been repeatedly reminded of what a gift really is.  Freely given.  Unmerited.  Unrepayable.  And I am an undeserved recipient.    This Christmas, more than any other, I celebrate life and grace, and grace and life, all intertwined, with the breathless awe and wonder of my preschooler.  And so how can I resist but start now?  It's never too soon for Christmas.