Eight Years Ago Today

I waited.  I wanted the baby I was carrying to come out on his/her own time.  I was scared of being induced.  I was excited.  I wanted to meet this baby I had prayed so hard for.  I don't remember how I spent the day.  Probably on the couch reading and staring at the closet full of daygowns I had made for him/her.  I probably sat in my brand-new, spit-up free, spilled-milk-free glider and dreamed about what it would be like to be a mother.  Finally.

But, Philip, you didn't come on your own time.  You needed a little help...an extra nudge.  Come you did though and baby it was love at first sight.  I had. never. been. happier.  A true dream come true.

And for the next eight years you have continued to be such a dream come true.  You are an incredible (almost) eight year old.  You are mature beyond your days, months, and years.  You simply do the right thing almost every time.  You set a good example for your brothers and friends. I tell you so often that it probably becomes unheard, but you make me proud.  All the time.

Yesterday was no different.  One we waited.  A lot.  And two, you made us proud.

We traveled to Atlanta for a MRI.  Little did we know that your braces would cause such a stir.  For four hours, the nurses pondered what to do.  And we waited.  A lot.

You were awesome.  Never complained.  Even though we were stuck in a tiny room and forced to sit.  Even though you hadn't eaten or drank anything in twelve hours.  Even though your parents were getting restless.  You waited beautifully.

The nurses were so taken with you, they left you their personal iPad for an hour!

And then when you were asked to walk several blocks to the Oral Surgeon's office to have the wires in your mouth clipped, you didn't complain or act scared.  Just got it done.  I hadn't prepped you for this step, but you never let it show.

Impressive, my son.  MRI time.  The nurses wanted to sedate you, but it was too late.  Your Dad and I reassured them of your self-control and ability to be still.  I sat with you during that noisy, claustrophobic MRI and watched your body.  You didn't move once.  Again, you made us proud.

It's a bumpy road we have ahead, but I have no doubt of your ability to rise above.  Still so extremely grateful for the gift of you.  You made me a mother.  You make me proud.  Happy Birthday, sweet boy!