Like many of us, he is currently working from home and his at-home "office" is my comfy recliner in the family room, so most days I get to listen in on his morning team meeting. Yesterday at the meeting, someone from the team announced, "And Wednesday is Isaiah's birthday!" to which Isaiah replied, "Oh yeah. I guess it is." He had totally forgotten. No surprise. Isaiah has always been low key. He's also the definition of a minimalist, which makes shopping for him nearly impossible. He's probably the smartest person I know, and more importantly, his values are sound. He understands what matters in life and what doesn't.
Because of his quiet, personality, I don't write about him often, but if you'd like to know him better (which I highly recommend!), here and here and here are some articles about him.
But now let's get on with that birth story, the second in the calendar year 2020, as I continue to tell each of my children's birth story, in the month of his or her birth.
Our first two kids were born way close together, so we needed a little break before #3. By the time Isaiah was born, Luke and Shulamith were 6 and 5, respectively. They were self sufficient in so many ways that bringing a new baby home was ridiculously easy. We were living in The Dalles, a small town 80 miles east of Portland along the Columbia River Gorge.
As I mentioned in Eli's birth story, all my babies come a week late, so though Isaiah's due date was April 9th, I knew he wouldn't show up until mid-April, and sure enough, the morning of April 14th, those contractions I'd been having for two weeks began to regulate and intensify. He was on his way!
By afternoon, I called my doctor, who said to head to the hospital and he would be in touch with staff there and join us when needed. "Let's do this!" I told Gerald, and we packed up Luke and Shulamith and dropped them at my friend Diane's house, on our way. But when we arrived at the hospital, we found the Labor and Delivery ward closed up tight. As in no one was there. Turns out Mid-Columbia Medical Center opens its maternity area only when there are women and babies there, which makes perfect sense, but in that moment was a bit disconcerting.
We walked around to another area of the hospital, stopping periodically so I could breathe through a contraction, and found someone to help us. "Oh, you need Labor and Delivery? Let me make a phone call."
"Awesome, thanks."
Very soon, two nurses arrived, and the Labor and Delivery unit came to life. Just for us! Just for our new little baby. At that time, routine ultrasonography was new, at least in small towns like The Dalles. My doctor had only recently gotten a machine in his office was still learning to use it, so at my 20-week checkup, he tried it out and told me he was 80% sure my baby was a girl. Those sounded like pretty good odds, so I went to the hospital that afternoon, expecting to give birth to Faith Webster Erichsen (in our rotation, the Erichsen last name came next).
I called my mom in Portland and told her it was "go time," so she hopped in her car and headed east. She had no need to rush, though, because it would still be hours, ohhhh so many hours, before our baby BOY made his entrance at 3:50 a.m. the following day. We were so surprised but so thrilled to meet him, our perfect Isaiah Webster Erichsen! At 9 lbs. 1 oz., he would be our second largest baby.
Immediately, everyone present began to comment about his beautiful eyes. Most babies don't have visible eyelashes, but his were long and thick and black, complementing his big blue eyes. Throughout our 2-day stay, various hospital personnel who had no reason to visit me, would knock, peek their heads into the room and say, "I keep hearing about the baby in this room with the beautiful eyes. Can I see him?"
Of course! Post-delivery euphoria hit hard, and I was elated to show everyone my beautiful little boy. Nurses kept telling me I should try to get some sleep. No way! All I wanted to do was hold him. I was once again, for the third time, in awe of the miracle that partners women with God to bring these precious spirits to earth. It's an honor beyond which words can describe.
By morning, my friends started to come by. We had lived in The Dalles for nearly six years, so we had many, many friends. It was a parade of people most of the day, all rejoicing with us. One nurse tried to tell me I'd had too many visitors, but I didn't care. There are few occasions when you get to be totally selfish and do things exactly the way you want to, regardless of what anyone else thinks, and having a baby is one of those times.
We brought Isaiah home to two doting siblings. Luke was delighted he turned out to be a boy, and Shulamith was ready to take on the role of 2nd mommy without so much as a second thought. It was a blissfully happy time for our family.
That was a few years ago, though it doesn't really seem like so many. Isaiah grew up to be one of my best friends. I couldn't be any prouder. Here we are together, just over a month ago, excited to vote for Bernie in Utah's primary election.
That was before the world turned upside down. Tomorrow we will celebrate Isaiah's birthday at home, in quarantine, with just our family.
And for him, that will be perfectly fine.
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