I had barely opened my eyes when I grabbed my phone, expecting to find a picture of my newest great-nephew. A quick text reported no change in Brittany’s condition since the night before.

I glanced at the headlines, surprised only by news that the sun had fired off two solar flares. This activity could possibly impact weather, shake the Earth’s magnetic field, force planes to reroute, knock out power grids or even affect high-accuracy GPS systems. I turned away thinking, all problems today will be blamed on the sun.

Regardless of what the day had in store for me, I was confident in my ability to get to Women’s Hospital to check not only on Brittany, but on my sister, Ann, who I knew would be exhausted from watching her daughter in labor for so long. There was only one other thing of which I was sure. If I did need any help finding the hospital, I would not call Monique. I had phoned my precious first born the day before to ask for directions to North Oaks so I could visit a friend.

“Mother,” she began, “you have a smart phone with a GPS…”

“Yes,” I interrupted, “and I also have a daughter working in Hammond. Just tell me how to get to the hospital.”

Solar flares have nothing on me.

The quiet drive to Baton Rouge gave me time to reflect upon the past six days, a period which began with my Mom’s hospitalization for dehydration, a trip to the emergency room with another family member, the visit to Hammond and now a new birth.

I entered the waiting room and wondered why Brittany’s in-laws were so excited to see me. Then I heard my brother-in-law say, “That’s not Ann. It’s just her sister.” I wish I had a day of house-cleaning services for every time I’ve heard that.

Although it had been 24 hours since Brittany began labor, it

was OK. We were used to waiting. Five years ago, Brittany and her husband Justin were told they

would never have a child. It was

the day they decided to trust God anyway and began to pray for a

baby.

Finally, after 28 hours of labor, Isaac Hilton took his first breath, cried his first cry and melted the heart of every person who crammed into the birthing room to snap a picture. The solar flares seem so dim in comparison to the 8-pound, 15.6-ounce bright spot added to our family on the eighth day of March.

 

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.