He's here! Silas Thoma Dowdy was born Saturday, August 26 at 6:17am--a healthy 9 lbs 1oz, 23 inch boy. The delivery was relatively fast for going natural--Faith went into labor Friday night at 8pm and we headed to the hospital around 1:30am that night.

We're still in awe and exhaustion over the whole ordeal--labor, delivery, our first day, our first night, etc. I won't go into any more specific details right now, but would love to if anyone has any specific questions. In the meantime, here are some of his first photos:

A Babe in Swaddling Clothes

ANY Dowdy Baby must have his own supply of tye-dyed clothes!

The first picture ever taken of Silas....what a beaut.
This is literally within the first 2 minutes of his birth.

Daddy changes his first diaper.

One happy family.

Thanks be to God.

Week 39 has come and gone, so as we work on our supposed "last" week of pregnancy, I can't help but become even more overwhelmed with anticipation. I catch myself overhearing conversation after conversation about someone's labor and delivery. Each time Faith winces in pain, I grab our bags and head to the car...but alas it's usually not a contraction. Gas maybe.

Faith and I are even to the point of experimenting with new names!! Simon, Silas, and Ethan have all entered our potential list as darkhorse candidates. If Baby Anonymous doesn't come soon, we'll end up with a list of 100!

To top it off, we can't help but find ourselves catching sight of little kiddos everywhere! A couple examples:

My niece Lily at her 5 year-old birthday party.
Her attempts at blowing up a balloon entertained us for quite a while!

Little Toby at his 1 year-old birthday party here at the farm.
He was having a grand 'ole time with his cake!

Baby George/Amani/Caleb/Simon/Silas/Ethan, please come soon!

Without the news of delivery, many of you guys have asked, nay, demanded some updated photos of Faith and me. Ok, so you've really just asked to see what Faith looks like nowadays. So without further ado:

"Ahhh! Where'd my feet go?!?!"

Yes, that's a waddle.

This was on our 2 year anniversary (Aug. 7).
Sheesh, for our first year we went to San Antonio. This year we're pregnant.
Next year we'll be in Kazakhstan. How can I top that?!?!

The purse isn't mine! I promise!
Faith gave me some sad story about the purse throwing off her balance as she waddled
...then she exposed me in my servanthood.

Yea, she's out there.

Over the past week, I revisted a book I once read for one of my Christian history classes in college--Saint Francis of Assisi, by John Moorman. I remember being the only one out of the class of approximately 30-40 students who liked the book. Most felt that it deified, or at least over-glorified St. Francis. Others felt it was a bit of an exaggeration.

I couldn't help but become enamored with the little guy.

Though Francis would be the first to say that one's life shouldn't be modeled after his own, I found myself desiring a heart like his. Simple. Passionate. Loving.

Most of us know at least a little about St. Francis--

-His love of materialism, foolery, and riches which radically changed to a life of voluntary poverty after his conversion.
-His care for the poor and sick.
-His many prayers and hymns that still are used today.
-His affection for all of creation.
-The cheesy but inspirational movie based on his life, Brother Sun, Sister Moon.

However, we're probably unaware of the ways and reasons that he lived the way he did.

In the book, Moorman points out that Francis lived the way he did out of a deep and burning love for God, which led him to want to try to live out the Gospel literally. Through this, Francis developed 4 foundations for living: Humility, Simplicity, Poverty, & Prayer.

In the upcoming days and weeks I'll attempt to address each of these one-by-one, shedding light on Francis' way of life while wrestling with how this would look for a 20-something soon-to-be father living in the richest nation on earth.

(Granted, these 4 foundations could take a while to tread through...especially if Geroge/Amani/Caleb decides to join us sometime before his 2nd birthday!)

Friday the 11th marks Week #38 for Team Dowdy.

George/Amani/Caleb still eludes us.

Faith and I wake up some mornings to see little G/A/C taunting us as he pokes his elbow/kneecap/fist into her stomach so that she appears to have a miniature summit protruding from her belly. He waves and wiggles and disappears, almost as if to remind us that we're on his time and not ours.

So we wait.
We pray.
We rearrange the baby clothes.
We shuffle through the "Labor & Delivery" playlist that we'll be playing in the hospital.

More to come this weekend. Perhaps with a screaming child next to me. Perhaps with a frustrated mom-to-be.

So Faith and I went to the doctor this week with a fair sense of excitement, because we knew the doctor would check her dilation. Well, to put it optimistically, 1 cm down, 9 to go!

I'm not sure what parenthood holds. Sure, I expect things to change a little. You know, perhaps I won't sleep straight through the night for at least another 20 years. And maybe we'll be perpetually broke 'til kingdom come. Fine, my gray hairs will likely increase exponentially.

The thing is, I'm beginning to realize that George/Amani/Caleb is about to knock us for a loop. Not only because he's going to be unbelievably handsome.
And not just because he's going to possess the world's greatest soccer skills.

But I'm finding myself complaining to Faith because he's not yet here! Each day I stick my face to his face--err, her belly--and (excercising my parental powers) command him to come out.

He continues to deny us, needless to say.

It's only when Faith reminds us that we're in our last days of relative freedom for the next few decades that I realize that I actually may be begging this boy to go back once he gets here! So if he's doing this to us before even arriving, imagine life once he gets here!

(Gulp)