It rained this morning. My friend Jodi cried and said it was God's clearing the way for a fresh start. Will made it through the night to hold my hand and join the chorus of nurses yelling "push! Push!". There was a country music concert playing on the television in the hospital room. Country music. Rain. Georgia. If you asked Will and me where we would be when our future child was born, it would not even begin to describe last night.

Will's 5'11 inch frame is gaunt at 140 lbs. We are fighting to keep his weight there. I wonder why he's not gaining more, now that we're past the chemo and radiation. Next week he will have the full body pet scan we hope will show the tumor gone.

But that does not explain his fatigue or swelling around his face.

Sanjay, our medical correspondent tells me that the swelling could be from the fluid produced by a dying tumor. I cling to that hope. My cousin's husband, a surgeon says the same. Give us hope. Keep us together.

Will was up all night, and our little baby arrived at 4:43am. He went home to sleep. I'll never forget his sense of wonder when she came out, and then he ran to the bathroom to throw up. He returned to the room so embarrassed. The nurse thought it was just first time father jitters. He explained he had cancer. He looked so weary. I am so proud of him.

The march toward war with Iraq has officially begun, at least in my mind.

The United States and Britain expanded the scope of the no fly zone over Northern Iraq.