The beauty of July 12

So apologies to any of my grade-school readers filling the dog-days of summer by digging giant holes, going on crazy day-long forest adventures, and making deadly spears with pocket knives and sticks. Don't use that kind of language until you are angry enough.

Just thought I would share a story about Claire that is mathematically rare enough to mention.

First off, being a new Dad is pretty wild. Some of the following is pretty cliche, but I don't care. Which is probably why every Dad says the same thing, knowing everyone has heard it before. But a child is certainly mind-blowing. Wow, that is our baby. We made that. What was once sperm (really, really good sperm) and an egg is now a brain, eyeballs, nose, mouth, and tiny hands and feet...a human being that I will unconditionally love for the rest of my days, and vice versa. The miracle of birth, indeed. I can't stop staring at her. And like Joe told me would happen, I can't stop kissing her head.

When she was in the womb, I knew it was a baby...but not knowing what she looks like, I attributed to her a soul instead of a face...kicks and jabs instead of cries. So when she emerges from the bloody mess, my first reaction is, "Woah! Who is that! It's a flippin' baby! She is my baby, and she is filthy!" Then the emotions hit hard. Surrounded by emotionless people in scrubs that do this dozens of times every day, this one is mine. I felt an adrenaline high for the last 90 minutes or so, making it more of a challenge to coach Julie, who was beginning to lose her mind! (She is going to write a blog, too. So I will leave details to her.)

So back to the story. It isn't really a story, but a tidbit. Claire's due date was July 5th. Julie had a doctor appointment on her due date, and it was pretty clear that Claire wanted to stay inside a little longer. To be on the safe side, the doctor recommended an induction a week from July 5th in case she hadn't come naturally yet. They don't like babies to go very late these days. That day was July 12th. My initial reaction was, "July 12th. 7-12. 7-12-07...hmmmm, that is a pretty lame birthday!"

After all, we had passed a few other cool birthdays that would have been desired. July 3rd was her late, maternal great-grandmother's birthday, whose name was Nona (Claire's middle name), and her watercolors adorn almost every wall of our house. A July 4th birthday would be pretty awesome, too. (Despite my blogs about constitutional protection of flag desecration, I love America. Or at least what it is supposed to be.) July 5th was her due date, which we had gotten used to and really liked. Then we started passing days in the week leading up to July 12th. Of course, 7-7-7 would have been really cool. July 10th because numbers divisible by 5 are always nice (my Dad and I are both fifteens, Wyatt is a 5). OK, that's ENOUGH!

Julie got a little upset with me because of my immature response to a birthday. Which I knew was a little ridiculous. I mean, our calendar isn't even universal. Other countries don't even have July 12th. The sun rises and sets, and tomorrow is just another day, so aren't dates a little arbitrary? So a while after the appointment was made, we decided to check out the history of July 12th. Right there in front of our eyes was Henry David Thoreau: born July 12th, 1817. Julie laughed in my face. My humbleness was overshadowed by this awesome mathematical oddity. For those that have read some of my blogs in the past, I am a pretty huge Thoreau fan. I consider him one of the prophets of the 19th century. If we had a boy, his first name would have been Walden. If we ever have a boy, his name will still be Walden. Not coincidentally the name of Thoreau's most-famous work, and the lake he lived by in solitude for 2 years. That book is one of the blueprints on how I try to live my life. But our precious daughter is not named Walden. She is named Claire, and has Thoreau's birthday instead. Wow!

One more tidbit. During labor, and through the entire process, I was playing 18 albums worth of relaxing music that we both love (300+ songs). Common during labor. The song that was playing when Claire's head emerged was John Denver's Rhymes & Reasons, which I have on my profile now. That is one powerful song to be playing when your baby is born! Some of you might remember that John Denver (Annie's Song) was also our first dance at our wedding 4 years ago.