I love to tell the story. That is actually one of my fondest hymns from the old days of worship, but the truth is I love to tell stories. I love to pass on to people information that they are unaware of or unfamiliar of and I really enjoy seeing their eyes widen as they learn new things or are reminded of cool stuff that is related to a time they do not easily recall. I love to tell stories.
So at birthday time I tell the kids their story of the day they were born. The details even escape me but I hang on to the high points as far as I can remember and I always embellish to keep their attention. So tonight Blake was reminded of his birth story, and I am also reminded of that day and how very special it was.
The summer had been so hot. Shar was very pregnant and still working and driving the old probe around. I was coaching at Belton High and Mrs. Hable the Athletic Secretary was ready for Sharla to call any moment during that 2nd week of football practice. This was before we or very many people had cell phones and land lines still ruled the world.
Mrs. Hable got the call and I vividly remember her running onto the practice field yelling for me. She hugged me and told me to go home and get Sharla because the baby was coming.
The next memory is seeing Shar in the entry way of the house. Black tank top and black leggings, she calmly paced our small living room and spoke out directions. We drove to Kings Daughter's in Temple and I recall she was mad that I was driving too fast. Still a complaint of hers.
Our first 2 nurses were cranky elderly women who did not really pamper Sharla the was she envisioned or deserved. That was a long hour or so but all things improved when Saint Dana showed up. The old nurses were excused, or room accommodations were greatly improved and Sharla was now calm since the best OB nurse in the state was at our side.
Labor was long and difficult and even though Dana took great care of us I know Shar was hurting. When the pushing finally came I did my part the best I could but Sharla and Dana did all the work. My sister and mother were on a conference call from California and could hear the whole thing. That was technology back then.
When our son finally came into Dr. Furman's arms her face became serious. Dana hid it the best she could be I could see concern. Dr. Furman calmly said "sorry coach but you don't get to cut this cord." I was confused and worried and did not have a good grasp on what was happening until I looked over the bed rail and saw my son in a light blue and pale shade. My heart sank and the seconds seemed like years as Dr. Furman slipped her fingers under the umbilical cord that was wrapped around my son's neck and calmly cut.
Blood sprayed my orange and white stripped polo. And then he cried, and I cried and Sharla cried and Dana went to work. She cleaned, suctioned and wiped him down fast, wrapped him up and handed my son to Sharla. Blake was here.
I share that story with my son every year, so he can understand how a childhood friendship between two girls can last a lifetime. How good medicine and good doctors really do have the knowledge to save life and how faithful our God is.
We praise God for our son this day and all the days that have passed and all the days that will come. Please continue to bless us God and we strive to raise him to serve you. All good things come from you oh Lord.
Happy Birthday Blake Samuel.