My due date was moved up last week. Instead of expecting this baby the first week of October, we are now expecting her the last week of September. A small detail perhaps, but one that threw me into a bit of a tailspin and made got me thinking the significance of dates.

My last baby, Nicholas, was due on my parents’ wedding anniversary. Ordinarily, that would have been a happy coincidence, but my parents’ marriage was annulled. When I told my mother the due date, she said, "Any day but that one." And she reminded me of that throughout my pregnancy. Frankly, I didn’t care much for the date either.

No matter what one thinks of annulment, it is an odd experience for the child born into that marriage. One’s concept of marriage is naturally closely tied to the marriage witnessed most intimately as she grows. To be told in my early thirties that what I thought was marriage wasn’t really marriage at all was a bit unsettling. I didn’t worry too much about the date though, because I’d never had a baby on or before my due date. I figured he’d be born about three days late, Christmas Eve.

I spoke to my mother at 7 p.m. the evening of Dec. 21, and she congratulated me for having safely navigated through the day with my baby still tucked up tight. I called her again three hours later to tell her we were on the way to the hospital. Nicholas barreled into the world in record time and was born a few ticks before midnight on what would have been his grandparents’ thirty-seventh wedding anniversary. Mike and I looked at the clock and laughed. God clearly had chosen the date and time of Nicholas’ arrival.

When my husband called my mother a few minutes later she remarked that it was after midnight. Mike told her Nicholas had indeed been born the day before. Then he said something I will never forget: "December 21 is his day now. Forever more, it will be a day to celebrate without reservation."

The Lord redeemed the day. Out of the rubble that was my parents’ marriage, came this cherubic little boy to be our Christmas pride and joy, two generations later. God can always bring great good out of a bad situation.

So now, I’m looking at due dates again, wondering what He has in store. My husband will be gone for 10 days, ending the week before the baby is due. We’re both hanging on to the idea that I’ve never delivered early. But I thought I had a two week margin when the trip was planned. He’ll fly with the angels and I’ll trust they deliver him home in time.