Jeremy absolutely loves his bath times.

Gabe had a glorious time with his friend Isaac during a recent church camping trip.

Gabe helping me run wires and DSL cables from the new house to the future office.

“That worn me out.”

Gabe simply adores his little brother and begins every day by bounding out of bed and racing to find him for a bit of morning affection.

This one captures his cheerful personality quite well. He’s not as calm as we had convinced ourselves he was going to be but he is generally jovial about life, even with an intense interest in everything that happens around him.

He seems a little skeptical about dressing up for church.

Jeremy loves bath time and gets very calm and snuggly after a warm dip.

We’ve made several small investments in real estate in the past year, and assumed that when we sold those rental properties, we’d be ready to start looking for our next house. Well, last Wednesday the 16th we closed on one of those properties, selling it to our good friends and renters, the Demrovskis. On the way home from the closing, I suddenly remembered that just the evening before, I had seen a new property show up on a foreclosure listings app that I have on my iPhone. Since the property was only a few hundred feet off our route home, we stopped in briefly to see it and evaluate whether it was another potential rental investment.

It was love at first sight. Just a few hundred feet off the state highway, but completely hidden from it by a strip of forest, it seemed to have both the convenient location and the privacy we wanted. At nearly four acres, the lot size was more than twice our current property. There were mature shade trees, and some respectable attempts at landscaping, both of which are rare and valuable in this neighborhood. A lovely porch ran along the entire front of the house, a feature Elizabeth and I always said we’d put in any house we built. There was a large screened-in back porch, a small fenced play area in the back yard, a big oak tree that invites growing boys to build a tree house, and several sturdy outbuildings in good condition.

I contacted the realtor almost immediately, and we met her the next day for a tour of the premises. As we stepped through the front door for the first time, I had a curious and overwhelming sense of deja vu, of coming home to a familiar place. I immediately spotted several more features that we always said we’d build into our dream house, including a great room with a cathedral ceiling, a stone fireplace, lots of natural light from large windows and dormers, and a master bed/bath on the main floor. The more we explored, the more we liked it, and at the end of the tour we made our offer. There was a bit more dickering back and forth, but on Monday the 21st, five days after our first glimpse of the place, the realtor informed us that we had a deal and we could close on it by July 2.

Yes, our heads are spinning a bit, but we’re still young and adventurous and we welcome this challenge. Compared to the last few properties we bought, the repairs and remodeling required on this one are very minor, and we could move within weeks, although we’ll probably take a little longer just to keep it all easy and free of stress. At this point we don’t know whether we’ll rent or sell our current home, but are confident God will send someone who will appreciate and benefit from the thousands of hours of work we’ve invested here.

We don’t yet have the key to the house, so we can’t post pics from inside, but here are a few snapshots we took this evening as we were going out to dinner to celebrate the occasion.

The porch where we’ll sit and drink lemonade, sweet tea, yerba mate, coffee, or apple juice (organic of course), depending who is visiting that day. You know which one you’ll get, don’t you?

View from the side. Dining area inside the bay window, screened porch on the back.

Garage/workshop on left, while the right side will probably become my office. A lean-to runs along the entire rear, so we’ll finally have a place for the lawnmowers, tillers, trailer, garden tools, etc.

When we bought our first SC property in 2001, it had a few pines and scrub oaks, but no attractive shade trees. This one has two beautiful maples right in front of the house, plus a large live oak that conceals the house from the county road at the end of the lane, plus another maple and a very large oak in the back. I still can’t believe it…

Gabe is absolutely thrilled with his little brother. Before you know it, we’ll all three be fishing and camping together . . .

We had a wonderful midwife for our first home birth nearly nine years ago. The second child was born in a relatively remote corner of South America, and we opted to have an unassisted home birth. It was a beautiful experience, and after we returned to SC, we wanted to do the same with our third child’s birth. We actually found a doctor who was willing to provide prenatal care for Elizabeth but supported our decision to have the baby at home with just the two of us. In the event of complications, the doctor was ready to take over if we came to his hospital.

With this fourth pregnancy we hoped to repeat that pattern, but unfortunately, this doctor’s hospital stopped delivering babies at the beginning of 2010. (Thank you, frivolous lawsuits and greedy lawyers!) This fine doctor was still willing to provide prenatal care, but our Plan B would simply be to go to a different hospital’s emergency room. I could just imagine the lectures I would have to hear if we went to the ER for help with a difficult delivery after having received no prenatal care there and after attempting an unassisted home birth.

Maybe it was because we had no viable Plan B that I felt so much more apprehensive about this birth than any of the others. On a number of occasions late in the pregnancy I asked for prayer from our church because of the foreboding feeling I had about this birth. Elizabeth and I both felt that in spite of those feelings, God was not telling us to change the original plan. We believed that if He was confirming that was the right decision, then He also would confirm it with a successful and safe birth. We prayed many, many times that God would choose to glorify Himself by blessing us with our best birth experience yet, and He did so, but in a very different way than we would have suggested.

A few minutes after midnight on the morning of the 18th, Elizabeth woke up and realized that labor was starting. Since it was still relatively light, she opted to let me sleep and got up to do a few loads of laundry, do some cleaning, and prepare the house for her maternity leave. After several hours, things seemed to pause, so she went back to bed and got three more hours of sleep.

When I woke up a little before six, Elizabeth informed me that we would probably be welcoming our baby before the end of the day. We had some breakfast, sent the girls next door to spend the day with their Demrovski friends, and sent Gabe to Uncle Motz and Aunt Paige’s house.

To encourage the slightly irregular labor, we took a four mile walk down the old railroad bed near our house. There was a sense of excitement that the day had finally arrived, but we were both much more sober and quiet than was typical of us in the early stages of labor. When we returned, contractions were fairly regular but only moderately intense, so we drove to town, returned some items at the library, and went for another leisurely walk in the lovely Hopeland Gardens.

By the time we returned from that excursion, we were down to serious business, although a quick exam revealed that the progress so far was not encouraging—barely three centimeters. The contractions intensified, and Elizabeth told me the pain was not centered as she remembered it from previous labors, but at the front of the uterus. Another exam revealed that hours of extremely intense labor had done almost nothing for dilation, and I realized then that the baby’s head was well forward from the cervical opening. By this stage of labor, I expected the cervix to be much further forward, but the contractions were putting pressure on the front uterine wall while the cervix at the back received only indirect pressure from the head. No wonder progress was exceptionally painful and slow!

I tried several times to gently realign the head, but after a few contractions, it always slid away from the opening again. Finally Elizabeth told me that she could not possibly handle a night of this labor after having endured it all day, so we agreed that if there was no improvement within a short time, we would go to the ER. Needless to say, we were praying constantly, and I prayed aloud through many contractions, asking God for strength and acknowledging our utter inability to help ourselves.

I am not an emotional man, but I was exhausted and didn’t think I could watch my sweetheart work so hard for so little result much longer. I had to keep smiling confidently into her eyes, helping her breathe or pray through each contraction. I kept back the tears through sheer willpower, and promised myself that once this was all over, I would find a dark corner somewhere, curl into a fetal position, and cry for an hour or two. I was silently asking God why He had not chosen to honor Himself by answering our prayers when He spoke to me. I hesitate to say God spoke to me when that claim is so flippantly made by so many, but I do know that He distinctly told me, “You’ve prayed that I would glorify Myself by giving you an easy experience. That has more to do with your convenience than My glory. Would I not receive much more glory by rescuing you from an impossible dilemma? Today, I will be moved by the prayers of My people, and you will hold your son before midnight.”

I told Elizabeth what God had told me about glorifying Himself through our desperate need, but I didn’t have the faith to tell her that the baby would definitely be born on the 18th. That was a mistake on my part, and I should have simply gone out on the limb of faith and declared that truth. I did call our pastor and asked him to notify some people at church that we were almost ready to give up unless the tide turned quickly. He began rallying people to pray, and only fifteen minutes later, we had our first positive sign as the mucus plug was lost. A short time later, Elizabeth began shaking violently and she managed to praise God triumphantly through chattering teeth as we realized that she was in transition. 

The pushing stage has always been short and exciting for her, but this time it was excruciatingly difficult work for over an hour. I had no time even to look at a clock, but I was beginning to wonder whether God was remembering the midnight deadline. Once as I went for more hot compresses, God spoke to me again and told me that at that very moment, many people were praying for us and He was hearing and accepting their prayers. I felt an almost physical sensation of loving hands all around us, and I allowed myself one quick rush of weary, grateful tears before brightening up and heading back to my sweetheart.

Baby’s heartbeat had been good every time we checked it, but after the head had been in the birth canal for a while without emerging, the Doppler revealed what I considered an alarming drop during contractions. I didn’t want to frighten Elizabeth, but I felt it was urgent that this baby be born without delay, so I had her try an extremely uncomfortable but effective position: flat on the back with knees drawn up. Within minutes, a big head with lots of dark hair had emerged. As I began suctioning, I noticed the cord was wrapped extremely tightly around his neck. We had the same problem at Gabriel’s birth, and it had been a simple matter to slip the cord over his head and slide him into this world. This cord was pulled so tight I couldn’t even get it to the baby’s chin, much less slide it over his head. I managed to unwrap the scalpel from its sterile packaging with trembling hands, cut the cord, and caught Jeremy Carlin as he was born in a geyser of cord blood.

The time was 11:55 PM.

Jeremy’s color was great, and although I didn’t get an Apgar score, it would have been excellent. Within moments of birth, while we were still wiping blood off him, he was loudly and industriously sucking a little thumb. A few moments later, he was wrapped in a blanket and snuggled up to his mommy while I continued to scurry around, cleaning up and praising God with every breath.

Now that it’s over, I have to agree with God. He receives more glory from our deliverance than from our convenience. There is no way to describe the bonding effect the whole experience had for us, and we’ve never been closer in our life. There’s also no way to describe the depth of thanksgiving we both feel every time we look at our strong, healthy son, our little champion. I’ve had the priceless privilege of being the first one to touch each of my four children as they came into the world, but never before has it been such a profoundly moving experience. There are no words to communicate the joy and relief I felt as I scooped up that warm, wet little body, looked into those big, alert eyes and said, “Welcome, my son. Mommy and I are SO glad you are here!”

I told God several times on that day, “I know You are completely wise. I know that if I knew everything You do, I would choose exactly the same kind of labor, but I don’t know everything and I don’t understand, and I just need help!” Today, if I could turn time back a week and if I could choose either a textbook delivery or the one we had, I wouldn’t hesitate: I would choose exactly what God chose. I would choose an experience that exhausts our feeble strength, that reveals God’s mighty power, that confirms the strength of a praying church, and that makes us treasure each other and our son like we never dreamed we could.

Oh, by the way, I was too busy to ever get into that dark corner for the cry. Maybe it’s still pent up in there somewhere, and one day I’ll spill my coffee or something and just lose it. If you see me sobbing hysterically somewhere, don’t worry. Just remind me that it’s all over.

Minutes after the birth. Reality hasn’t even dawned yet for the exhausted Mommy. She’s my hero, no doubt about it.

Sisters were starting to wonder whether there really was a baby in there. Now they have proof that Mommy and Daddy knew what they were talking about.

Sleeping like a baby.

Rare waking moment.

Daddy’s boy.