Twenty-five years ago today I was in agony. The ob. nurse had to get on top of me and help me push the baby out because I was so exhausted after 24 hours of labor. I was glad Dr. Roach told her to do that–he didn’t want to do surgery. He was tired–he had been at the Derby. Dr. Fisher, my mentor, was still in Louisville. Wayne was as exhausted as I was, being the faithful, empathetic coach. Everyone always says it was worth it. No, it wasn’t worth it–rather I was and still am unworthy of it. The existence of my first son is a blessing so undeserved, so tremendously unearned, purely God-given gift. He delighted me from that first moment and continues to do so. I had and continue to have, through him, one of my reasons to be.

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