Numero Uno

One year ago from this moment, I was lying in a hospital bed downtown, writhing and screaming in pain. I was six days past my due date, and my water had broken that afternoon as I walked in the door from work. I was determined to have a natural, drug-free delivery (hence the writhing and screaming). I did have a moment when I wavered and asked for the epidural. In the time it took the anesthesiologist to get there (a mere 15 minutes or so), I had gone from a 4 to an 8, and I was feeling the urge to push. I sent the anesthesiologist away, figuring I'd done the worst of it. The nurses quickly called my midwife and by the time she got there, I was at a 10 and ready to push. I pushed for less than half an hour, and then my beautiful son was here! He was blue and slippery, but absolutely gorgeous. In the matter of about 5 1/2 hours, I had gone from a miserable pregnant woman to an elated new mother. We had gone from a married couple to a family. It was miraculous.

And today, my baby isn't really a baby anymore. He's a little boy, who toddles around the house, exploring, investigating, and learning. But he's still miraculous. Sometimes I catch myself watching him, my mouth hanging open a little, in awe of all that he has become, and is becoming. I am so proud of him every time he fits two blocks together, or makes a new hand gesture to communicate what he wants. I know every mother must think so, but I'm convinced everyday that my baby is the cutest, the smartest, and best all-around kid that has ever been born. I love you, Little Man. Happy Birthday.