Headed to the Hospital for Delivery–Again!

Thirty-two years and two weeks ago, my bride of 35 years visited her doctor. She told him about my prediction.

"Sorry to inform you that nothing's happening," he said. "Tell your husband it's going to be later than he thinks."

My wife came home and shared the news that the doctor predicted our baby would arrive later in March.

"I'm going to keep praying," I told her.

On the eve of St. Patrick's Day, my wife got her first sign she was in labor.

"It's not time yet," I said.

Warning: Never say that to a woman in labor. It’s in the rule book under Dumb Things Foolish Husbands Say. There’s an entire chapter dedicated to labor and delivery. I memorized it during my wife's first, which lasted 34 hours when our oldest son was born.

But our daughter? She arrived precisely on this day—according to God's perfect timing. She now shares her birthday with my first cousin, Patty, also a St. Patrick’s Day baby.

And today, if all goes well at University of Iowa Stead Family Children's Hospital, there will be another special delivery—a labor of love that has been years in the making. The launch button was pushed about two hours ago. Now, everything is in God's hands.

Thanks for keeping my family in your prayers. We’ll be celebrating throughout the day, and I’d love for you to join me in wishing our precious daughter—and cousin Patty—a very happy birthday.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

And to my dad in Heaven, joined by his twin brother, Mike, for their first St. Patrick’s Day together up there—I know you have a bird’s-eye view of our celebration. I’m tipping my hat to you, Dad.

Thank you for passing along the writing gene. I’m forever grateful to have inherited your love and passion for storytelling.

Cheers!