Last Word

It's a Girl!

Wherein the editor explains why this issue of the magazine will arrive a few days late.

By Philip F. Lawler

One intrepid friend finally asked the question which, I'm sure, was on many other minds: "Does this qualify as some sort of miracle?"
The job of an editor involves several gratifying benefits which an ordinary reader might not suspect. The appearance of my name on the masthead (along with the forbearance of an understanding publisher) gives me the right to use the editorial "we" (which, as most readers, know, is pronounced "Wheee!"); it gives me the opportunity to indulge my own whimsy, pushing "Diogenes" off his usual post on this page; and it gives me the scope, when the spirit moves me, to tell a personal story.

* * *
Several months ago, all of my email pen-pals received an urgent message, asking for their prayers....But wait; to tell the story properly, I must go back further.
Six years ago, when our sixth child was born, my wife Leila suffered a rare medical trauma. For no apparent reason her womb ruptured, causing a massive hemorrhage and nearly costing her life. As she recovered, her doctors gave us the sad news that we should not have any more children. Once a woman has one such accident, she is likely to have another. Another pregnancy, they said, would endanger Leila's life.
So the years passed, and our children grew, and we looked on with more than a little jealousy as our friends brought home their own newborns. Then last summer my friends received that anxious message. Leila was pregnant again; we were asking for prayers for a safe delivery.
We dreaded the first visit to the doctor, yet it brought us our first gasp of relief. The principal danger, he said, was not pregnancy itself, but the process of labor and childbirth, which puts such stress on the womb. Fortunately, it is possible to avoid that danger, by scheduling a Caesarean delivery a few weeks before the baby is due.
The next few months proceeded normally; indeed Leila reported that it was her easiest pregnancy. Finally in February--a few days before the usual deadline for this magazine--the fateful day arrived. I sat at Leila's shoulders, trying assiduously not to see what was happening down below, until I heard the doctor say, "Here she comes"--an announcement which took the surprise out of the next traditional line: "It's a girl!"
Above all, gratitude
And there she was: Bridget Kateri Lawler, small and pink and healthy and beautiful. And here too was Leila, pale and tired but equally beautiful and, thank God, still equally healthy. I will not attempt to convey the fierce emotions that gripped me: the wild mixture of joy and relief and pride and love and, above all, gratitude.
But our story is still not quite complete. Since he was operating anyway, the surgeon took a few extra minutes to examine Leila's womb, looking for any signs of damage or weakness. There were none: no scar, no thinning of the uterine wall, no lingering evidence whatsoever of the earlier trauma. The only sign of anything out of the ordinary was a small adhesion of the womb to the intestine--medically insignificant in itself, but, to the eyes of a trained physician, evidence that some healing had taken place here.
As this proud and grateful father spread the news, one intrepid friend finally asked the question which, I'm sure, was on many other minds: "Does this qualify as some sort of miracle?"
Technically, I suppose, the answer is No. Injured tissue does heal itself, and if the healing in this case was extraordinary, still it followed a natural process. And there is that tiny adhesion, leaving just enough of a clue to convince a medical detective that something had once been amiss; the slate was not wiped clean.
But then I look at this beautiful little creature, made in God's own image, now sleeping quietly beside me. And suddenly my friend's question strikes me as absurd. Why are we straining at gnats? Of course it's a miracle! What human birth is anything else?

* * *
We (ahem) apologize, dear reader, for the tardy arrival of this month's issue. Blame it on the Julian calendar, which robs us of those crucial working days in February. Or blame it on the disruption of our normal working schedule, caused by the events described above. Either way, we hope you will think that the wait was worthwhile.We do.