c. 2000 Religion News Service

(Rabbi Rudin is the Senior Interreligious Adviser of the American Jewish Committee.)

(UNDATED) What do you call a newborn child whose parents, Eve and Robbie, are both rabbis? The answer is simple: Emma Mollie Weiner, our first grandchild.

Because our daughter’s pregnancy went full term and a few days more, there was ample time for the excited families to prepare for the birth. Evidence of that excitement was omnipresent.

Blurry soograms taken early in the pregnancy decorated refrigerator doors, and tired eyes of prospective grandparents strained to make out tiny features like hands and feet of the eagerly awaited grandchild. Cousins happily offered the couple used baby furniture.

While there may be serious debate whether storks bring newborns down to earth from outer space, what is not in dispute is that cyberspace is filled with the countless e-mails that my wife Marcia and I exchanged with Eileen and Mike Weiner, Robbie’s parents, for nine months.

Unlike many of today’s pregnancies, no one knew the sex of the new baby in advance. That tumultuous revelation had to wait until the very moment of birth, and represented a throwback to an earlier era of suspense when the cries of “It’s a girl!” or “It’s a boy!” contained real drama.

Of course, Eve and Robbie attended several classes for soon-to-be parents prior to Emma’s arrival as well as visiting the hospital maternity floor. The classes and advance visit helped demystify some of the complex steps of giving birth. But as every mother knows, it is one thing to practice focused breathing in a class session; it is something quite different when the painful contractions actually begin.

When Eve’s long awaited telephone call came on a recent Sunday night announcing that her water had broken, we all knew the great primordial drama of bringing a human being into the world was beginning. Our Manhattan apartment, an hour’s drive from our children’s’ home, provided a convenient way station because of its proximity to the hospital where the birth would take place. After their post-midnight arrival, there were a few hours of sleep, even for Eve, and then early Monday morning, the four of us arrived in the maternity ward.

Eve and Robbie were assigned their own room, which resembled upscale hotel accommodations with warm wood paneling, TV and radio. Once in bed, Eve did not have to leave the room until she gave birth. No gurney would wheel the mother-to-be to a cold frightening operating room. Everything would happen in the same room … contractions, labor, pushing, and finally birth. The entire process for Eve took about 10 hours.

For most of that time, Marcia and I drifted in and out of the birthing room. Computers carefully recorded the quality and quantity of the contractions, the baby’s heartbeat and other vital information. When the pushing commenced, we retreated to the nearby “loggia,” a waiting room.

In a sign of changing times, the obstetrician, nurse, attending physician and aides were all women. Robbie was the only male in the room during the actual delivery.

The long hours of waiting provided an opportunity to think about family and the miracle of birth. My wife’s father, Max, died in 1998, and her mother, Elisabeth, last January. Following Jewish tradition of using the first letter of their names, both will be honored and remembered through their great grandchild’s name, Emma Mollie.

The hours also allowed plenty of time to think about the things that can go wrong in childbirth. I don’t recall such intense anxiety when I witnessed my two daughters being born. But being physically outside the delivery room creates more time to worry. And I did.

At last _ the glorious and miraculous moment that has been repeated billions of times throughout history. Marcia and I enter the room and there is Emma Mollie, about 40 minutes old, being held by Robbie. The infant is wrapped in blankets and wears a colorful elflike cap that covers her thick clump of dark hair.

Her extraordinarily large eyes look out upon my wife and me for the first time. Hopefully, there will be other moments of joy involving Emma Mollie in the years ahead, but nothing can ever equal that beautiful moment at 6:11 p.m. on Aug. 21.

When a Jewish child is born, we ask God for only three things: “Torah, Huppah, Maasim Tovim _ religious learning, a good marriage, and a life filled with righteous deeds.” Who could ask for anything more?

Welcome, sweet gorgeous Emma Mollie!

KRE END RUDIN