Almost five-year-old firstborn was helping me pick out party favors at the party store when my water broke. I told firstborn that we had to go home, and would continue our shopping later. Firstborn asked the lady behind the counter, "what time do you close?" Too cute.
We drove home, and a good friend watched over our firstborn while I went on to the hospital. I can still hear Bob's cowboy boots coming down the hospital hallway in to the delivery room. We watched the monitors the rest of the afternoon... about 6 o'clock, the doctor came to check on my progress after her office hours, and when she installed another monitor into James' skull, the monitors showed that James' heart rate dropped. They threw me on the operating table and took him out quickly. It was a very sudden entrance...and yet, on my own Mother's 50th birthday.
I wonder what our firstborn remembers about it all. To be the only child for five years, and then be given a brother, and then another fourteen months later.
To James, he has always had brothers, being the middle child. Built in playmates. And such a bouncing baby boy. Such a joy. We have so enjoyed watching him grow up and now we get to enjoy him for three more weekends before he heads to his next leadership course.
Happy Birthday James ! Love, MOM
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