We Welcome Grace

It's not a good sign when your sister calls you at 5:15am and asks for prayer because of "all night cramping." Especially when that could be code for "labor contractions all night." And the total gestation is 26 weeks.

My parents were on their way to the airport to visit us when Jonelle called them from the hospital: "Please don't go. The baby is measuring 22 weeks, but they're going to take it out to save my life. And maybe take my uterus, too. It's looking grim."

Devastating, devastating news.

By early afternoon, Grace (weight: 440 grams, or just under a pound) was out. And, for the time being, stable. Jonelle kept her uterus; her blood pressure returned to normal almost immediately. For all these things, we are so very thankful.

Amidst life-and-death drama, the mundane tasks we accomplished are small. The three cups of milk from Bianca yielded almost half cream, and we enjoyed a peanut butter shake (milk, raw eggs, vanilla, peanut butter, honey in the blender). The irrigation finally worked: all our trees are watered. I could imagine them saying, "Thank you; I was thirsty" as I walked down the rows. We almost finished the first beehive and got started on the second.

But mostly we prayed, and groaned, and wept.

And rejoiced.