Evan’s story…Part I

“I’ll love you no matter what!” I screamed after each push.

I could feel the tears after each push – each tear for every dream, every fear, every hope – I have for him.

Craig looked at me and offered me his hand to squeeze, “You can do this, Czarina! You’re doing great!”

The pressure was unbelievable.  Every thought raced through my mind..

How will he look?

How will I feel when I see him?

How will Craig feel when he sees his son with a face that’s less than perfect?

Will I be ashamed if I feel anything but pride when I see him?

Will he take a breath?

Will I hear him cry?


“You can do this!” I could hear the cheering from the nurses, my doctor, my husband.

I could hear my heart racing.  I could hear my heart beating – only wishing I could give my heart to fix his broken one.

He’s almost here!  He has so much hair!

I grab Craig’s arm, look at him right and the eye and say, “We love him.  We love him no matter what we see, how we feel, how he does.”

Tears start to fall from his eyes, he gives my arm a squeeze, bends down and kisses my forehead, “Of course.  Of course we will.”


“He’s here!  Mama – he’s a cutie!” – the nurse exclaimed.

I shut my eyes tight, squeezed Craig’s hand, and pray outloud, “Cry.  Cry.  Breathe. Breathe.”

And then…

Almost inaudible…but I hear it.  The sound I’ve been praying for.  Faint…then strong….he’s crying.

And so are we.

They quickly pass him off to the NICU team.  They are muttering…I strain my ears to try and get information.  But all I hear are Evan’s screams.

The sweetest sound I have ever heard.

They look at me after a few minutes and say, “Are you ready to hold him?”

I hold my breath.  Ready to see him.  Scared to see him.

They place him in my arms and I see Him.

I see God’s perfect creation….only imperfect by the standards of man.

Yes – Evan’s cleft lip is severe – his little face incomplete.  It looks like the pictures you see on sites like “Operation Smile” – only this wasn’t some kid in a 3rd world country who hasn’t been fortunate to have surgery – but no –  this was my child – my son.

He was pink.  His chest was moving up and down.  He was warm…his heart was working.

The NICU doctor looked at me…and carefully said, “Ok Momma – we need to take him.”

And then…after only a minute…they took him from me and my heart broke.





  1. I know he is perfect. Beautiful in every way. God’s perfect gift to you and your family!
    Praying for y’all!

  2. Oh sweet friend, I am praying for your beautiful little one. . . .

  3. What an amazingly beautiful story. I know he is perfect in every way. Praying for all of you.