Quinn was baptized earlier this month and during the ordinance, just right as she walked into the water with her dad, my mind was brought back to her birth 8 years ago in New York City.
I had had three pregnancies before Quinn. T was born with brain damage and Everett was born with heart disease and after our two boys we had a late miscarriage of another little boy whose heart was growing on the outside of his body. So needless to say, when I became pregnant with Quinn I was just waiting for the next hardship to be delivered.
But Quinn’s entrance to the world was one of the more peaceful experiences of my life. She was born in a room full of women—doctors, nurses, anesthesiologist, mother, child—with the sole man being her dad, the same one who eight years later would be walking her into a warm baptismal font.
These women washed and prepped my body, they held me as I cried, and then, when a 9-pound Quinn was brought out of my womb, they smiled and rejoiced with me. When someone gets baptized they get to choose two people to witness the ordinance and make sure everything is said and performed just so. It is no surprise to me that Quinn chose two girls, her cousin Avery and her friend Ginny, to witness her baptism. She was born in a room full of women, and she was born again in the same way. It was a truly beautiful day for her and all of us.
