The thought of bringing Kiley home from the hospital was a bit daunting. For us new parents, there was safety in knowing that nurses were just down the hall, a push-button call way for help if something happened in the night. There was also a nursery that we could let Kiley “visit and enjoy for a while” during the night while we slept an hour or three. The Riverside nurses were so great and knowledgeable that whenever we had a question, they had just the right thing to say. At home, there would be no safety net, no answers, no nursery, and no free diapers, for sure.

Part of me really wanted to get home so I could stop sleeping on a couch next to Laura and enjoy my own bed, but part of me knew that once they walked us out the front door of the hospital, that was it. We would be on our own from that point on — she would be ours, and ours alone. People have been taking care of newborns for thousands of years, and for the most part, it seems to be working just fine. It’s not like she is a human genome sequence formula or an Apollo 13 reentry maneuver, she’s a baby and that should be simple enough.

We were too focused during that “first drive home” from the hospital to put on the song I wanted to play in that first car ride. It’s a great song for such moments sung by Hootie — Darius Rucker’s It won’t be like this for long. Now when I listen to that song while looking into Kiley’s eyes, my own well up with tears. We want to hold on to these early moments as best we can because it certainly “won’t be like this for long.”

The changing of the diapers, the feeding at night, and enduring the hours of screaming for no apparent reason can be challenging enough, but we are dealing with it. The bigger concern for me is the art of actually raising her to be a great human being. How will she turn out? Will she look to Jesus to find strength in troubled times or will she look to boys, alcohol, and rebellion? Will we save enough for her college tuition? Will we have the courage to be her parents and not her friend? Will we be strong enough to discipline her so she is respectful, thoughtful of others, and not completely spoiled and inwardly focused? It would appear it’s easy to have a kid; it’s hard to raise one.

On that point, it actually wasn’t easy for us to have Kiley. We spent years trying, and endured many expensive doctor visits to finally get her to arrive. She is one lucky embryo for sure! We’ve experienced the pain of waiting on God. We’ve watched countless others have countless children, sometimes getting pregnant on the first month of trying. We’ve watched TV shows that tell of women who were pregnant and didn’t even know it. Laura especially had a hard time with the thought of so many teen girls getting pregnant in just one night of selfish stupidity, and ended up not even wanting the child and she wondered when it would be our turn.

We’ve learned though, that waiting on God is always best. The pain we feel while waiting is really just the Lord trimming off our own selfishness and headstrong ideas, for He is the Skillful Surgeon and He’s never lost a patient. I’ve heard it said that God doesn’t always show up when we want Him to, but He always shows up on time. Kiley may not have arrived when we wanted her too, but God’s timing is always best, even if we don’t find out why until we leave this Earth.

We also know that God teaches each of us in different ways. He taught us patience to wait for Kiley when others didn’t have to wait. However, others struggle with issues that we haven’t had to deal with. It is just further proof that God wants a personal relationship with us. He numbers the hairs on our head, and can certainly carry us through our troubles. Everyone is unique, and everyone has different trials and that is why a personal relationship is so important versus just being “religious.” Organized religion can’t help us much with specific issues we look to deal with on a daily basis, but a relationship with God, nurtured every day is what helps us find answers, hope, and strength. That difference between religion and relationship is the crux of the Christian faith, and if we can get Kiley to understand that, we as parents will be well on our way.

For now, we are just fighting the small battles, and taking the small victories as they come. Like when we get her to settle down after an hour of pure wailing that seems to emanate from her toe nails, boil over through her stomach, and burst forth furiously from her mouth like we just amputated her left leg. Oh, wait, we didn’t cut off her leg, she’s just wet again.