I arrived early that day. Let’s see, that was nearly thirty-seven years ago – February 18th, 1982. It was dark when I pulled up to the hospital. Recently I had made this trip a lot, my wife was near term with our first child and had been confined to bed. Like I said, I got there early – about 5:30 am. Her doctor had scheduled a C-section for 8:00.

I was young, and a little nervous. It the eighties, and it had become commonplace for fathers to be present during delivery, even caesareans. So, I wasn’t sure what lay ahead. About an hour later we said our goodbyes, and they whisked Elain down the hall. I followed a nurse down a different hallway. I was in a daze, everything was a blur. I remember donning scrubs, complete with a cap and shoe covers. I must have been a sight, but that was before selfies, so we’ll never know. Finally, the nurse helped me with my mask. “Follow me,” she smiled, “the Doctor is ready to begin.”

Sheepishly I followed her into a brightly lit room. “Sit here,” she laughed pointing to a stool in the corner. “We don’t want you to faint.” She waited nearby, next to a small table under a heat lamp. “That’s where we’ll clean the baby after delivery,” she explained.

I studied the room, Elain was on the table under the bright lights. She waved weakly when they told her I was there. The doctor strode in and stopped to say hello. Then he turned to the table and asked my wife if she was ready. In what seemed mere moments he was handing something to my nurse. It was small, dark pink, and crying. “It’s a boy,” he announced.

The nurse placed the bundle gently under the heat lamp. Sure experienced hands suctioned my son’s airway. Another nurse appeared and began to clean and dry him. Silently I counted toes and fingers as the nurses called out Apgar numbers and other strange terms. Then the pediatrician examined him and shook my hand. “Healthy baby boy,” he declared.

I marveled how quickly the nurse swaddled the baby. “Would you like to hold him?” she asked directing me back to the stool. Speechless, I nodded yes, and while they finished working on Elain, I awkwardly cradled my son. Awestruck I pondered our future. I was sure I would never experience anything like it again, but I did. A short two years later, I was in the same room, probably the same stool holding my daughter.

First moments that will never be forgotten. Moments filled with wonder, and joy.

This month has been packed with reminders of those first moments. It began with my oldest granddaughter’s birthday, then my wife’s, today is my daughter-in law’s, and any day now we expect grandchild number six.

In spite of all the turmoil and strife in the world today, take time to marvel at the miracle of life.

David Dahl