Yesterday, my oldest son reached a milestone: his 16th birthday. It has become a tradition in our family for me to recall, in sometimes unwanted detail, the circumstances of my children's actual day of birth. So for the past several days, many of my sentences have started with the words, "Sixteen years ago, I was..." while I would glance at the clock, remembering.
Remembering the fear that struck my heart as Dan and I walked around his parents' neighborhood late in the evening of October 1, 1991, timing my contractions. After waiting for over 9 months to meet our first child, the realization that his arrival was imminent was terrifying to me.
Remembering the oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth, prohibiting me from shouting and screaming out of frustration as I worked so diligently to deliver him.
Remembering the intense relief I felt once he was born, once I could see that he was as perfect as he could be.
Remembering our first night together, after our loving friends and family left, and we could truly begin to get to know one another. I studied him, committing every bit of him to memory.
For 16 years, I have watched him grow and change from that tiny baby boy, swaddled and cozy in my arms, into the young man who now stands taller than I. Looking into his face, I see the strong nose and cheekbones of the man he'll soon be, but can still catch a glimpse of the chubby-cheeked, squeaky-voiced toddler he once was. In the scrapbook of my mind's eye, I can see him holding his Puffy in front of his mouth, sucking his thumb, humming the tune from Barney. "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family...."
It is my fervent prayer that as the years have passed, even through the times when we haven't been such a happy family, that he has always known how much I love him, how much of myself I've poured into him, and how proud I am to say he's my son. Before I had children, I had no idea what a wild ride motherhood would be; the highs can be outstandingly high, the lows can be crushing, but I thank God for the child He chose to bless me with to initiate me into this exclusive club of women.
Happy birthday, Son. And thank you for 16 wonderful years.
About Me
- stacey
- This is the view from the driver's seat of our minivan, a.k.a. "The Bus". As in, "The Bus is leaving in 5 minutes! If you're not in it, we're leaving without you!" I'm Stacey, Dan's wife, and I see this view many times a day as I shuttle our 4 busy kids around town.
3 comments:
Well, you never fail to move me. Love your musings. Hold on to your hat -- the next few years will scream by and before you know it he'll be out on his own, dropping in from time to time (conveniently right around supper!) Love you guys!
Happy belated birthday Nick. The time flies it seems like we were just 16 and now our kids are hitting that age.
Happy Birthday to Nick!! I still remember us sneaking into his room to peek at him sleeping in his crib, then dropping quickly to the floor when he woke up. LOL!
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