What cruel wacko came up with the absurd idea that breathing through childbirth could be a good thing? Lamaze. How much unnecessary torture has been endured for that little inspiration? When I was pregnant with Caitlin, Bob and I dutifully attended Lamaze classes.

I remember the instructor having our husbands pinch us with increasing pressure, so we could practice "breathing" through the pain. I'm embarrassed now that I was even a part of the whole herd-like mentality that bought into that claptrap.

When the day of her birth finally came it slowly became the most excruciating pain I'd ever felt. Of course, Bob "The Coach" was right there with me, telling me how much better I'd be doing if I would just breath the way "we'd" practiced. I hated The Coach. To top that off, my brilliant doctor had estimated Caitlin would weigh about six pounds and she weighed in at just under ten. I was sure I would never be able to sit down again, certain my once long strides would be forever reduced to short shuffles.

Before we left the hospital I was given a little booklet that detailed her expected development. At one week she should be able to do such and such, at two weeks this, and so on. I became obsessed with this booklet. I was constantly testing her, making sure she was progressing normally in every respect.

One day when I was putting away laundry, I happened to notice an old Mr. T mask that Bob had worn to a Halloween party. Curious to see how Caitlin would react, I put it on and knelt down to talk to her. I got my face about the distance that the booklet estimated she could bring into focus and.... she let out a scream different from anything I'd heard before or since. I immediately ripped the rubber mask off my head (practically scalping myself in the process).

Bob came tearing in from the other room to see what had happened. Knowing he would never understand my "experiment," I stuffed the mask under me and sat on it. Bob asked what had made her scream like that? I looked suitably stumped and said I had no idea. Unfortunately, he spotted a little tuft of Mr. T's mohawk underneath me and demanded to know what it was. I brought it out, acting completely baffled as to how it had gotten there.

"I can't believe you would actually want to scare a newborn baby! What is wrong with you?"

"It was just an experiment...turns out she's a little bit of a racist, that's all...," I tried to joke.

Bob was not amused. He took Caitlin from me and left me sitting there. Whatever. An innocent "experiment" had ruined our day. It wasn't easy being first time parents. Always worried that we weren't doing everything just perfectly. Worried that we were somehow going to "mess up" and ruin her for life.

I think about how we were then (almost 23 years ago!) and am amazed how far we've come. God knew how much we had to learn before He could give us Brett. Now, just when we need to be there for each other the most, Bob and I are a true team--I don't hate The Coach anymore. I know Bob does everything he can to make my life as easy as possible and I try to do the same for him. We are in it together and together we are trusting God to give us the peace, strength and wisdom for the rest of the journey.

"Do not be anxious for anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thangsgiving, present your requests to God and the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6-7)