I have struggled throughout my life, ever since I was in college, with symptoms of depression.  In particular, what I have come to understand as seasonal depression.  I didn't understand when it first happened because in general, I had always been a joyful person and although I had my struggles with different experiences in my life, the physical effects that would appear every once in awhile would take me by surprise and leave me feeling helpless.  Within our family, lows were just something we had to deal with, it's the whole "suck it up because we all have problems" kind of sentiment that some of us are raised with.  It wasn't until recent years that I discovered that I had a chemical imbalance in which a small dosage of medication would prevent me from having the physical symptoms that made it so hard for me to function sometimes, not to mention, had me convinced that something was wrong with me and that I was not good enough for anything.

However, when I had my transformational experience, no amount of medication could calm the desperation and anguish I was feeling as a result of that day, so a voice inside of me reminded me to turn to prayer.  My parents and my sisters always would advise me to recite the "Our Father" and "Hail Mary" whenever I needed relief from pain, anguish, etc.  Praying in that experience, changed me forever.  It was the only thing that kept me from breaking down in public and guided me to a safe place where I could release what I was feeling.  It protected me and it calmed me.

So when we were driving to the hospital in the pouring rain, it was second nature to start praying through the duration of every contraction.  I would start with the "Our Father" and continued with as many Hail Mary's needed to complete her contraction cycle.  I would pray softly so as not overwhelm her and to aim to soothe and distract her, and I would quickly glance over to her as I said, "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art though amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus, Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for our sinners, now and until the hour of our death, Amen."

So we got onto the freeway and I have never driven as slow as I did, being sure to stay in the right lane and making sure to watch out for cars all around me.  Fortunately, the freeway was pretty light, which was helpful to be able to concentrate on the prayers and observing my wife inbetween contractions.  I knew she was increasing in discomfort because she would clasp the passenger door armrest and she would arch her body back into the seat in an effort to find some kind of relief.

Yesterday, as I was reflecting on the drive and asking her thoughts for this piece, she reminded me of something that happened that I hadn't remembered.  On the way up a somewhat of a steep hill on the freeway is a visible white cross on the top of Rocky Peak Trail, a symbol of the church that gathers there.

So it's midnight and the sky is dark, and the glow of this cross was breathtaking amongst the mist.  As we passed it, I thanked the Lord for this blessing we were on our way to deliver and asked for His protection. I extended my right-hand out toward the cross to physically and spiritually connect.

I kid you not, the rain stopped pouring, the street that was usually filled with bumper to bumper traffic was wide open, no cars in sight all the way to the hospital parking structure where there was a corner parking space waiting for us on Level 2.  While I was noticing how clear the road was, I would turn to my wife and say, "Can you see how God is taking care of  us? Everything I prayed for is working out for us!" The Lord, I have learned, also has a big sense of humor, and the only vehicular experience that we encountered as we were approaching the hospital was a cop car zooming by us on our left handside who splashed us as he drove swifltly through the intersection.  When that happened, we both laughed and said, "wow." #rude LOL