Four years ago today you came along. We’d waited, and prayed for you for a long time. We’d lost and cried three times over before things finally stuck. It had been a complicated 9 months with weekly appointments, and special medication to keep mama from contracting. Those first 20 weeks were ripe with worry. Would we lose you too? Was there something wrong with mama? Could we have another baby? That day you met us, every question was answered. All of the sadness, and disappointment, worry and strain vanished like a fog lifting in the morning sun. It was you. We were waiting for you. I had no time to prepare or worry in the minutes before your birth. We’d worn out our worry stores in the years and months leading up to your arrival. A labor that started at 5:57am ended with one push at 7:55am just 5 minutes after we left our car running, doors open, in front of the emergency entrance at the wrong
hospital with no time to make it downtown. No scrubs, or introductions, you came into the room as the nurses peeled off my winter coat. Your father white, and weeping could have used the same shot they gave me for shock. You were here. You, who we weren’t sure we’d ever meet. You who’d bring such gratitude for the way things turned out, and who would continue to teach me daily about being thankful for every twist and turn on the road we travel together. Every test, procedure, and minute I’d spent feeling oh so broken gone. It didn’t matter anymore. We’d been waiting for you. We don’t always know why things go as they do, why life throws us the curve balls it does, or why struggle may be part of the path, but when we hang on, and keep the faith, somehow everything works itself out. This was never more true than with you. I love you my sweet love. Thank you for taking your time to come to us, and for then being in such a hurry to join our family. In your words this morning, “Of course I came fast mama. I wanted to meet you.” I wanted to meet you too my love, and I’m so glad I did.