The sounds of two little people interacting with their Daddy reach me as I sit here in my bed, and--unbelievably--a new baby boy is laying where his father usually sleeps. I look down at him and am amazed. It doesn't matter that I've given birth before, or even that I've given birth to both male and female; this baby--this person--right here takes my breath away.

His was the hardest labor I've had yet, and I suppose that's saying quite a bit since I was in labor with Gabriel for fifty-one hours. Not only was labor very, very long, but I was in "transition" for over four hours. Contraction after grueling contraction, with only ten to sixty second pauses in-between them. I wanted to die. I thought I would die. I thought nothing in the world could possibly be worth the absolute pain and exhaustion I was experiencing.

And then... there was him.

Maybe it's because I had to work so hard to see him. Or maybe it's because he represents so much of this past season in life for me. Or maybe it's simply because he's so perfect and beautiful. Whatever the reason, the joy of his birth is far from feeling repititious and--in fact--seems to have brought renewed hope in a special and unique way.

I can't wait for you all to meet him. We won't be out and about too soon this time around since I suffered quite a blood loss which my already-anemic body didn't handle well (for those who know numbers at all, my hemoglobin was 6.2 when I left the hospital yesterday morning), but soon--very soon--you will see my son, and you will perhaps get a taste of what I mean when I say, "He was worth it."