The impatient child...comes home

A few days ago, little Natalie Lucia was born. In a sense this child belongs to the whole congregation of North Valley Friends. We have been cheering her on for several years, inviting her to come home. We have struggled alongside her parents, Rob and Kim Felton, in their battle with infertility, and we rejoiced three years ago in the adoption of Madeleine who came into their arms from birth. Some of us wondered if that was the end of the matter.

But God had a surprise in store, and he allowed Kim to live her dream of going through pregnancy. This was after the second adoption fund-raising activities, the months of waiting for something (someone) to turn up, and several last-minute disappointments. Then one Sunday early this year our pastor announced from the pulpit that Rob and Kim had experienced a “little bump” in their adoption plans. She then projected the scan on the screen, and it slowly dawned that the “bump” was a baby. Growing inside of Kim.

It’s been fun to watch Kim beginning to “show,” to share in the amazement and excitement.

So it was with alarm that we received the news on Easter weekend that Kim had gone into premature labor, almost too early for the baby to survive. That was three weeks ago. Three weeks of living in the neonatal intensive care unit, on-and-off IVs, constant monitoring, praying for time. Again, this has touched our whole congregation.

But she’s here, seven weeks early, but healthy. She even seems plump in her photo. She’ll stay in the hospital until sometime in June, but she appears to be thriving. Those few weeks apparently were vital.

Here’s a prayer/poem I wrote three weeks ago (one that was answered).

To the Impatient Child
(a poem that is really a prayer)

 Little one,
your time will come,
but not today.
Soon, you will come out
of hiding and greet
the world with a yell,
but not just yet.
Soon, you will meet
her face-to-face,
the one you only feel
now, blood-to-blood,
swimming in liquid love,
moving with her
in a dim warm space.
Soon, you will meet
him, feel his heart
beat as he holds you
to his chest, pats
your back, hums,
but not now.
It’s coming soon,
believe me--
real air on your face,
light, colors, music
and a whole open place
of people who will receive
you with so much love
you’ll need time
to take it all in.
And time is what
we’re asking for now.
So rest easy, settle back,
let yourself grow.
A world of wonders approaches.
But not today.