Dear Nahum,
Today was probably our last trip to the ob-gyn together. As you may have noticed, she's been having us visit her every other day since your due date, just to make sure you are safe and sound. Today she asked me what we had decided about induction — about trying to help you come sooner rather than later. I told her that we plan to start tomorrow morning at the hospital at 10:00am with the midwives and doctor there. She nodded her approval.
Our ob-gyn is caring, but usually she keeps some professional distance. However today, at the end of the appointment, she wished me viel Kraft for the next days. Then she stood up and gave me a long hug. It was not one of those quick, formal, "I-probably-should-do-this" hugs, but a heartfelt, sincere "I'm-doing-this-because-I-care" hug. You probably felt when she patted you and wished you well. The doctor looked a bit emotional and of course, I more than just looked emotional. I cried.
She is going to miss seeing you.
So am I.
We said goodbye and after I cried in the doctor's bathroom for a while, I headed outside. Just as I was unlocking my bike, I heard a friendly voice call my name. It was an acquaintance who has always cared about your situation and asked about you. Do you remember her? I've never run into anyone I know on that street, but today, when I was feeling extra weepy, I did. I think God placed her there to encourage me again.
As we enter what could be some of the hardest days of our lives, I am reminded that God puts His help around every corner. Literally — whether its a kind word from the doctor's receptionist, a long hug from the doctor, or a praying acquaintance appearing outside the doctor's office — He has shown up in these and 1,000 other ways in the last six months. And I'm sure He'll show up in 1,000 other ways in the days to come.
This is not the lot we would have chosen, but it's the lot God chose for us — for you, for Dad, and for me. Since He chose this path for us, we know He'll watch over all the details of the next few days.
Let's do this.
