Good news! Our very own little boy, Theodore, is among us. The girls couldn’t be more in love with him. Neither could I. Sadly, as far as males go in the Navarro household, we are still, and likely forever will be, outnumbered. Jokes aside, it’s ok. He already loves his girls. So do I.
What brings me here today is the realization that, without all the doctors and nurses involved in my wife and baby’s care, the lines above wouldn’t have been written. Without them, there would be no Theo. And maybe no Martha either. Don’t get me wrong. Aside from having incompatible blood types, a problem that used to be fatal but that modern science can now easily resolve, neither pregnancy nor delivery were particularly complicated or dangerous. Yet, it was the constant attention and care from all medical professionals, from the very first day the pregnancy became official, that enabled us to look at this adventure with excitement and hope. The hope that this pregnancy would bear good fruit, and the excitement that we would get to love on that baby and see him grow. During the delivery, I was in awe, not only at my wife’s courage and strength, but also at all the medical professionals caring for her and encouraging her, like she was their sister or daughter. They were the first to touch and hold our little boy, quickly and safely delivering him to his mother. No mother or child has a better chance to survive and thrive than when they go through this journey with skilled, loving and caring people. People helped my wife through delivery. People welcomed my son into the world. People made sure they could go home, heal and grow up.
We cannot make it in this world without people.
And now that we are home, I see reminders of you everywhere. While I look for an outfit to dress Theo, or when I wrap him on a blanket, or when I receive a celebratory text or call, or when I read a card. In one way or another, you all have loved on us tremendously. A love that, for thankful and sleep deprived parents, is oxygen. A deep breath of fresh air, filling our tired lungs, reminding us that we are not alone in caring for this cute and helpless child of ours. I also see my in-laws, putting up with us for almost three weeks now. Cleaning our floors, buying groceries, fixing our yard, holding our newborn, decluttering our closets, taking our girls out for adventures so that we can have a moment to ourselves, playing board games and simply being there for us. It is nice to see adults in a house full of children. Their love has kept us sane and alive. And, don’t parents need parents too sometimes?
You get the point. We cannot make it in this world without people.
It is true that people also hurt us. People can make our journey in this world harder than it needs to. But, as far as I am concerned, a rotten apple will never turn me away from a warm and nourishing apple pie. Why? Because God sometimes redeems the rotten apple, and if the apple does not wish to be redeemed, then God always makes sure to send you ripe and sweet new ones. The kind of friends, family and strangers that will revive your hope and carry you forward. So, why not be that kind of apple today? Why not be the stranger (like the nurses we may likely never see again), or the friend, or family member, that makes someone’s life better? After all, didn’t God say that it wasn’t “good” for any of us to walk through life alone? Why not choose today to be an agent of God’s goodness for someone around you?
