Little baby Warren, in some ways it felt like we waited forever to meet you because we couldn’t wait to love you in our arms, and in other ways, your pregnancy was the quickest of all of our children because we were so busy tending to the needs of your brother and sister. You may have heard us talking outside of your cozy womb about who you would be: “Will we have another girl or another boy? Should we change the nursery before Pickle is born or leave it the same? Do you think this baby will be overwhelmed with the chaos of our family? What boy names do you like? How about girl names?” Your girl name changed quite a bit. I think you began as “Ayla” and then transitioned into “Hazel” and finally “Maddie June,” but we knew fairly early on that if you were a boy, you would be our Warren Ellijah. And you are!
I went into labor on a Tuesday evening—an evening after a super moon—as we were eating Mexican food with your Nana, Grandpa, Great Uncle Charles, Great Aunt Kathy, Daddy, Eden, and Miles. Daddy drove your excited sister and unsuspecting brother to Nonni’s house while I drove home to labor a bit before we made our way to the hospital. Sometime in the middle of the night, at that point when all is dark and the world has been in silent slumber for some time, Daddy loaded our bags into the van while I tread carefully down the stairs and down the long starlit walkway to my passenger seat. Even in pain, I couldn’t help feeling like the wee hours of the morning were like Christmas—I knew I would finally meet you, hold you, and know you.
When you finally came, I saw you as you entered the world and then were lifted onto my chest. You were screaming and couldn’t be consoled; the open room was sprawling before you, and you had to use your lungs for the first time on your own. The cord had been wrapped two times around your neck, but we were still able to deliver you the way we had hoped. The nurses asked Daddy to look at his new baby: “What did you have?” they asked. “Why he’s a boy!” Daddy said in a delayed way, processing all that was happening. I felt like I had known all along even though I had my moments of doubt, but you just FELT like a boy in there. I tried to feed you, but you kept looking around the room with wide eyes, perhaps imagining all of the new world before you was just a dream. Finally, you began to eat, and your body rested in my arms.
You were born two days after your due date, and we think you simply wanted to be born on a Wednesday as Eden and Miles both were. You came November 16, 2016 at 9:06 a.m. weighing seven pounds, thirteen ounces. The doctor missed this birth, too, but we didn’t mind. We are glad you came on your own time and arrived safely into this world. Your brother and sister were elated when they first met you. Seven days later, Miles is still commenting, “Baby ‘dorable, Mama” and pointing out all of your body parts, “Baby forehead. Baby eye. Baby nose.” (He squishes your nose a bit when he points out this last one, and I’m always worried you won’t be able to breath. You are quite accommodating for now at least, letting Miles drive his toy car across face and letting your brother and sister “drive” your bassinet across the wood floor.) Eden is equally enamored, and loves to comment upon your every move and minor twitch: “Did he just yawn? Hi, little mister. Do you like me? Aww.” Yesterday she gushed, “We finally have a REAL newborn to love.”
“Hold baby, Mama?” is the request of the hour, and we all feel that way. I can’t hold you enough, and neither can Daddy. You are named Warren after your great-grandfather, the father of your Nonni and grandpa of your Daddy. Elijah is a name we love for you, too, because of its sound and its Biblical meaning. Warren Elijah, thank you for joining our little family; we are so relieved you are here and that we are able to know you and love you even more every day. We ask that the Lord would lead you and cover you all of your days and that you would always know of His infinite love for you. You are so special to us.