Happy Birthday, Micah

Today is my baby's birthday and he turns 31, at approximately 6 pm tonight. I think that was the time, because I remember watching the evening news in the hospital room in between contractions. Wow - 31 years ago. As I look back on it now, it almost seems surrealistic that it has been so long ago - because I remember giving birth to him like it was yesterday. It was a difficult birth, like my other two, but worse, as they had to turn him inside of me, because he was facing the wrong way. That feeling you can't possibly understand unless you go through the same thing.

Right before I had Micah, his dad and I traveled to Minnesota so we could get married there. My pastor at the time would not marry us, mainly because of his dad's legal standing, and because I was 9 months pregnant, I wanted to do this before I had the baby. The ride was incredibly bumpy and we spent all day, into the night, in the car with Jason and Leah in the back seat very tired and cranky. When we got there, we first went to the courthouse in downtown Minneapolis right before they closed, to obtain a marriage license and then we stopped at a phone booth in a grocery store parking lot and tried calling all the churches in the area to see who would marry us, but no one would without weeks of pre-marital counseling. We were about to give up, when the last preacher on the phone said he would marry us that night.

So around 9:00 that night, we drove to the minister's house and with Jason and Leah sitting on the couch in his living room, me 9 months pregnant and big as a beach ball, he married us. I couldn't stand very comfortably because I was having contractions all day, but I managed to stand there until the "ceremony" was over. I learned many years later that not only was the marriage certificate falsely stated, the preacher even lied on it to say there was an adult witness, when there was none. I imagine all he cared about was getting paid for his services. In any case, I had been praying that I would be married before the baby was born and that the preacher would marry us in Jesus' name. Because God is faithful, those prayers were answered just as I prayed them - even though I was undeserving.

Leaving the minister's house, we checked into a flea-bag motel in not such a great part of town, but I was too tired to care at that point. I fed my kids and put them to sleep and I followed. Around 1:00 am, I woke up with a start, got up and walked to the bathroom and when I got there, my water broke - all over the bathroom floor. It kind of freaked me out because that hadn't happened with my other two and I frantically woke up my now husband and kids and we piled into the car to go to St. Paul Ramsey Medical Center. After I was admitted, their dad took the kids back to Madison and I was left alone in a city where I knew no one, in a unfamiliar hospital to have my baby alone.

All day I labored and I remember this one male nurse who was especially mean to me, but it didn't dawn on me just how mean until about a month later. As I said, it was a difficult birth, but Micah was born that evening, and after a day in the hospital, their dad came back up to get me. I didn't have money nor insurance, and I couldn't pay the hospital or doctor bill, so I left as soon as I was able. It turned out that I should have stayed longer, because I came down with a uterine infection that made me very sick.

Back at home, some time later, I received a letter in the mail and when I opened it, there was a flyer  that was published by a neo-nazi group, that spoke of how evil and corrupt inter-racial marriage and babies were, condemning and vowing to wipe out both. It was sent anonymously from Minneapolis - St. Paul, and I realized then, that the male nurse who was so mean to me, must have sent it. It was frightening - I thought someone was going to come and kill my children and I. That type of racism I never encountered before. I certainly encountered racism, from both blacks and whites - but not to that level. I didn't rest easy until many months after that, but I'll never forget that as long as I live.

I never have understood why people hate each other for their religion, culture or the color of their skin. Stupid, does not describe it for me. It goes beyond that - beyond ignorance and beyond belief system. If you really study it out, we ALL - every single one of us - ultimately descend from the same nation, race and people - from Noah, his wife, their three sons and their 3 wives. It wasn't until the Tower of Babel that people were dispersed to different parts of the world at that time, but even so - we still all come from that one family.

So I said all that to say, I love my children - regardless of their color, regardless of their father and regardless of how difficult my life has been. They and my grandchildren are everything to me. In fact, after God, they are at the top. No one else comes even close. And so, when one of them has a birthday, I reflect on all that I went through when I had them and as I raised them. It wasn't easy. In fact, it was incredibly hard - both by my incompetence and by others. But God made up the difference and today, all three of them have become fine adults and parents who I am so proud of.

So, yeah - if you ask me, was everything I went through worth it? My answer every single time will be unequivocally yes....