Wednesday, March 13, 2013

To my son, with love

Twelve years ago at this time (1:45 pm CST) I was hooked up to monitors at a hospital 40 miles from home, listening to the steady thrum-thrum-thrum of a muffled heartbeat. Nurses periodically checked in on me, taking vitals, feeling for changes. (That one with the particularly large and knobby fingers was NOT welcome again after her first visit. I'm sorry, but NO woman should be subjected to that while in the throes of labor! Witch.) I had worked the day before, a Monday, feeling a bit worse for wear and achey. My husband at the time had had every one of his wisdom teeth removed that day and was loopy as a doormouse. I had gone to bed around 9, very tired and somehow knowing I wouldn't get much sleep for the next 40+ years. We weren't expecting this little bundle for five years but he decided the combination of antacids+ the Pill after too much tequila+ Mexican food on the Fourth of July was the perfect time to make an appearance.

At 3:30 am, the H got up to take his dose of painkillers. This was also the exact time I woke up, gripped my stomach and gasped. The constant Braxton-Hicks I had felt for several weeks was NOTHING compared to the tightening of my entire body and losing my breath in pain. Quickly remembering lamaze techniques, I went into laser-focused Feather mode. In crisis or extreme stress, my sense of clarity is crystal and I begin planning/implementation processes. I also tend to be a bit short with people. (No height jokes, thank you. Yes, I'm little. :-P) We hadn't quite planned for this little one to come two weeks early. I couldn't very well drive myself to the hospital in another city and neither could H since he was on painkillers. A quick call to a good friend had her at our house in a few minutes and on our way to be parents.

On the way to the hospital, I had the same sense of calm as when I recently married the Major. I breathed regularly thru each contraction and smiled, knowing I would soon hold a little bundle of awesome. Over the years, he's shown me how wrong I was. He's way more awesome than I can say. He reminds me so much of my dad, and not just because they have the same eyes and name. This incredibly talented and smart almost-man is as tall as I am with one of the kindest hearts I've ever come across. When the Major is TDY, the J-Meister takes his job of "man of the house" very seriously, watching out for his momma and little brother. His insight is scary sometimes. He knows if I'm not fully telling him the truth, if I'm trying to protect him from certain things. I swear he's like a sponge, absorbing all that life has to offer and learning everything in sight.

This morning, I kept a tradition alive my dad started with me and my sisters when we were little. I finally found a little mom and pop donut shop that made specialty donuts. Most of the shops around here have their donuts shipped in from a bakery. Sure, they may have been made late last night but they couldn't compare to the smell of baked goods wafting from that kitchen. The owner even made a special sprinkles and M&Ms one just for the birthday boy. The kid was stoked!

Sgt. Frog or Keroro Gunso
about an alien frog who tries
to take over the world...badly.
Now, his life is about to change and I'm so proud of how he's handling everything. Looking thru every website he can about Japan and Okinawa. Watching Japanese cartoons (which are HIGH-larious, dubbed in English, btw. They even thru in a "I'll have what Meg Ryan is having." joke!) and asking a million questions about how all of this affects him and his brother. He's an amazing boy and I'm so proud to be his mom.

Happy Birthday, my oldest! I can't thank God enough for putting you in my life!

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