Caia Lovin’ on Jack “Baby Cry” from stephen parris on Vimeo.

They have brought us delicious & plentiful homecooked meals: WIN

These meals have kept Annette and I from having to make huge grocery store trips, and from having to cook dinner while things begin to settle down: WIN

Several have also brought a dessert with the meal: WIN

These desserts have been very large: DRAW

We’ve eaten too much of them and they’re making me gain weight: FAIL

But this is not a request for stopping the dessert deliveries.

We are so thankful. [for the love and effort you've shown...not just for the desserts]

Jack and Annette are both doing great… Thanks for checking in on us and for taking care of us.

But can we maybe extend the meals delivery into May or June? We should be adjusted to our new, mega-crazy life by then.

Right?

I think I’ll keep him.

He’s here and he’s healthy!

Jackson Thomas Parris arrived at 2:17pm. 6lbs 12.5oz. 17.5-inches long. (We’ll probably call him JT or Jack Thomas.)

He appears to be perfectly healthy!

The “Single Umbilical Artery” was confirmed, but the one artery was bigger than normal and was able to carry the load of the two that should have been there. Much ado about nothing! That’s an answer to prayer!

And the risk posed by the “Liver disease” disappeared the moment his umbilical cord was cut. An answer to prayer.

And Annette only labored for 8 hours. With Caia, it was 18. With McKenna, it was 24. Another answer to prayer.

Sooooo, thanks for praying. A great beginning for a life that we expect to do amazing things for God.

This is the first time Annette is being induced. She delivered McKenna au natural. Amazing. But the labor lasted 26 hours… Not terribly pleasant.

So Caia came into the world under the glory of the epidural.

This go ’round, there are some “risks” involved. Our little man “Jackson” only has two vessels in his umbilical cord. He’s supposed to have 3. And my poor bride discovered, after itching so badly that she scratched herself to bleeding, that she has a condtion called “intrahepatic cholestasis of pregnancy.” [liver disease that will go away a few days after delivery.] So the doctors shall induce.

Tonight, as I finished up a comprehensive honey-do list, I put on my melancholy cap and found myself getting a little verklempt. I started noticing all the things that were ending as I tackled each item.

Tonight is…

our last night at home as a family of four.

my last night tucking just two children into bed.

the last time Annette will have taken a bubble bath in our house to calm contractions.

the last night I have to share my bed with Bob (he’s Annette’s body-pillow, a.k.a. “The Homewrecker”).

the last time there’s just 4 of us around the dinner table.

our last night of decent sleep in our own bed for a while.

the next to last night that I can say “my girls,” and be referring to Annette and all my children.

the last night of wondering if he’ll be okay, in light of “the risks” and the statistics we’ve been having to consider.

Needless to say, we’re pretty anxious to get this little man into our world and home with us.

But even though we fully expect him to bring the same but unique joy that each new child brings, I had to be intentional about watching this night of “lasts.” I made sure I told Kenni how special he is, how proud I am of her, and that she’s the best big sister in the world. And I had to toss Caia up in the air a few extra times, tickle her a little longer, and stroke her cheek a little more softly than on a “normal” night.

After tonight, everything changes.

I hope we’re ready!

Bull.

Until the kid is in your arms, then walking, talking, counting, singing, running, climbing, smiling, screaming, laughing, making up jokes…you just have no clue how true that warning is.

My oldest daughter, McKenna Belle, will be 4-years-old this week. That baffles me. Four doesn’t seem that old before you have kids. But do the math… That’s 1/4 of the way to a driver’s license, 1/5 of the way to a junior year in college, and only 1/10 of the way to her having to drive ME to doctor’s appointments and daycare.

Thank you, Jesus, that you’ve given us eternity to enjoy this life…’cause you were a little trigger happy when you made our days as short as they are. I’m guessing it’s because you can’t wait for us to get to the good stuff.

Enjoy every minute, because they grow up so fast.

Annette and I had driven separately. On the way home I had Kenni and Caia in my truck, and Annette was going to make a grocery run. That left me in charge of the bedtime routine.

Now, when you’re driving children home after their bedtime, there are two ways things can go. There’s the first way where the children fall asleep in the car and then stay asleep as you carry them in. Lay them gently on their beds, and they peacefully continue their slumber.

Then there’s the second way.

And on this particular night, things went the second way.

The girls fell out cold somewhere along the road home. But as soon as we pulled into the garage, they woke up. The quiet moment quickly dissolved into exhaustion induced hysteria. After carrying them inside, I sat them both on Kenni’s bed to get them into their pajamas. They were both whining at first. Then something triggered one of them into wailing…which then triggered the other one to follow suit.

Pandemonium. Screaming. Kenni’s crying for milk…”I’m thirsty!” Caia’s just crying for sleep. “Do what you must do, but do it NOW!” Holy Moses. There’s nothing I can do to calm them down but just give them what they need and lay them down in their beds.

As I was standing there in my own agony, I was hit with empathy for God. (Not that he needs my empathy, but stick with me here.) God has hundreds of millions of children living ‘in the world,’ and it’s fair to say that a large percentage of them are crying out to Him in one way or another at every moment of every day. Cries for help, repair, restoration, comfort… All totally legitimate and real needs that He is fully capable of fulfilling.

And then I started thinking about my unborn son, Jackson. He’s due sometime in January. But he’s got some challenges to overcome as he gets closer to his big day. He’s missing an umbilical artery, and his mom has just been diagnosed with intrahepatic cholestasis. I’m not going to lie…it’s a little scary. In his own way, I felt like he was screaming at me in that moment, too. “Dad! Pray for me!”

It was a sobering, surreal experience.

My friend Jason had twittered a thought earlier that day that slapped me in the face as I finally got the girls calmed down and into their beds…

When I pray God has an entire eternity to listen….for He is not within time. He labors over my life as an author over his characters. WOW!

Though our own stories are bound by a window of time, God’s is not. He can step in from anywhere in eternity and create our rescue. He can hear all our millions upon millions of simultaneous cries because He freely arranges his own moments according to His own will. [Wow! That's overwhelming!]

Being loved by a God who is trustworthy and desperately interested in meeting our needs is the greatest opportunity available to any man or woman.