It’s no secret—since I’m not sure we actually have any secrets—that Erin and I have been trying this past summer for Baby Davison #2. Some of you are aware that my work schedule took me to Portland during the first month of what turned out to be some of the prime baby-making days. Coupled with what I can only call an ill-timed and therefore dunderheaded blood donation to the Red Cross, this amounted to a swing and a miss in our first go-round. (Though it would more accurately be described as a swing and a miss, a swing and a miss, a swing and a miss, etc., if you take my meaning.)

I am thrilled to report to you today, however, that our second summer attempt was fruitful, and the bun is in the oven. Casting aside these cumbersome metaphors: Erin is pregnant, 7 weeks along, and Little Baby Davison #2 is due in June.

We could not be happier. We’re excited to have Jonah be a big brother, we’re ecstatic that we’ll be parents again, and we’re really grateful for the support of family and friends who have enabled us to take this otherwise daunting step with relative nonchalance. We’ve always intended to have at least two kids, so it’s not like we wouldn’t have taken this step anyway, but the attitudinal difference between a decision made with uncertainty and trepidation or with calmness and optimism is all the difference in the world. We are exceedingly grateful that God, family, and friends have helped it be the latter not the former.

Thank you so very much.