An emergency ultra-sound was ordered – due to the fact that you were two weeks overdue – I was told labor was going to be induced within the hour. Evidentially, there was no amniotic fluid left and you basically did not have any nourishment for who knows how long.
Twelve hours into labor “people” began to get impatient-especially Grandpa and Aunt Sheila. So when the time of your arrival finally came (28 hours later, I’m just sayin’) Grandpa and Sheila pretty much refused to leave the delivery room. I was in no condition to argue. This explains why the video of your birth has not been viewed by many – Grandpa was the videographer, he got a little caught up in the moment and some of the angles are …. not….very…um….tasteful.
Anyhow, my little pumpkin, I regret telling you that I have no memory of your arrival. I was in a state of pain-induced unconsciousness. When I woke up, I expected that someone of great importance would be coming into my hospital room and delivering me a crown on a pillow, dozens and dozens of roses and a huge diamond ring; all of these things with an accompanying card from the whole world saying “You are amazing, no one else could ever do what you just did” (ha!)
Due to the lack of amniotic fluid you had a pretty rough birthday too. I was told that your color was gray and that you were covered in a white chalkiness. I think Grandma still tears up when she talks about your pitiful newborn cry. It didn’t take very long (only a few hours) for that pitiful cry to become strong (and somewhat demanding) and for your color to turn pink. I remember being in recovery and a nurse brought you in a little bassinet, there was an identification card posted on it with your name and your newborn footprint. Grandma noticed that there was only half a footprint on that card and asked the nurse why. She sheepishly replied that your whole foot would not fit on the card. A sign of things to come.
Seventeen years later and here we are, I’m still an unsure mother and you still have a demanding cry. (grin) You have forgiven me a thousand times over for my mothering mistakes; for my over-protectiveness, my under-protectiveness, my selfishness, my lack of patience and that hairstyle for your third grade school picture. You have grown into your feet (boy, did you!) but most importantly you have grown in beauty; inside and out.
My tender hearted, fearless, patient, literal, phlegmatic, perfectionist, literal, forgiving, (did I mention literal?) firstborn. You are amazing. You have a heart of gold. You do. Guard it, protect it, keep it close to Christ, give it only to your future husband.
You have brought indescribable joy to me. I am so proud of you.
Please don’t get tattoos.
I love you forever. Happy Birthday.
You will always be right here:
