Serene.
There’s no better word to describe the atmosphere at the Bakker farm when I arrived on a warm Wednesday evening in early June. Both Bakker kids sit at the large oak dining table in the late evening sunlight, picking tentatively at some dinner. Dad Ben stands beside the table, hands folded in watchful repose, punctuating the silence with occasional soft encouragements for the kids to “take more bites”.
The familiar tones of Lindsay’s good-natured laugh drift from an upstairs bedroom, carrying that confidence and contagious joy that I’ve come to associate with my vibrant friend. Upstairs, I find Lindsay standing in the center of the house’s master bedroom, hands on her round tummy and swaying gently. Three midwives along with Lindsay’s mother are gathered in the room, faces all aglow with smiles. The mood is light and anticipation hangs thick in the air.
Over the next several hours, Lindsay labored steadily and peacefully. Contractions increased in frequency, but dropped off again around midnight. Heavy fatigue had set in, making the rest between the 7-minute contractions a much needed reprieve for Lindsay. The midwives took turns attending to her while the rest of us slept in brief increments; one on the floor, a couple propped halfway up on the couch, eyes fluttering open every few minutes to assess the status of things. Labor picked back up around 2am, and Marina made her triumphant entrance shortly after 3:30am, to a small crowd of adoring fans.
