Seven years ago, today, this wonderful child came into our lives. He was 7 weeks early and not ready to be here, as you can tell by all of the tubes and wires. And yet, as you can see from the above, this may be how he started, but is definitely not where he is today.
I have so many vivid memories of the day Sam was born and the days following. I had prayed that he wouldn't come on Sept. 11. It was the one year anniversary and I still felt a bad vibe for the day. I was pregnant and all those hormones were sucking up brain cells. The night before I had talked to one of my friends, who was carrying twins and scheduled to be induced the next day. She was full term (37 weeks) and was set to go. I called to wish her good luck and to tell her I wish I was with her. Lo and behold, I got my wish, although I really wanted to wait just a little bit longer-but my body couldn't take it. So I got to deliver Sam on the same day the twins came. I had been on bedrest for 5 weeks and my parents had been staying with me, so they got to be there for the birth.(Not in the room because it was a c-section, and who really wants to see that?!!) They took me into the OR, I hopped up on the table(okay, I didn't hop-I was hugely pregnant, so really I kind of flopped up on the table) got my epidural and waited for the surgery. There were a bunch of people in the room-a NICU team for Sam, a team for me, and who knows, maybe just people off the street interested in an OR. I couldn't tell you-I was doped up. I can tell you, however, that I loved my anesthesiologist. He was nice and calm and just wonderful. Now that could just have been the drugs, but I don't think so. Anyway, they opened me up, popped out Sam, briefly held him up for me to see and then whisked him away. Alan may have gone with him, but again, he could have been dancing on the table and I am not sure I would have noticed. I was sent to recovery and a few hours later, the nurse wheeled me down to the NICU, only to turn around and take me right back. I was to find out later that they were working on Sam....they had almost lost him. His lungs just weren't ready. So here he was in the NICU, 6 punds 4 oz, bigger than most of the babies in there, who hovered between 2 and 3 pounds, and he couldn't breathe on his own. So 5 weeks of the NICU, then home. Once home he had months of tummy troubles-ended up on a very expensive formula, followed by months of ear infections and tubes, and months of alternating sleeping with mom or dad on the couch, because up until he was 9 months old, he couldn't sleep thru the night. Walking at 10 months, stitches at just over a year from running into a wall, and he hasn't stopped yet. He came into the world fighting and he spent his first year the same way.
But now, I have this little boy who is funny, and smart and handsome and charming and witty. He loves baseball-even watching Sports Center when he gets up in the morning and checking the scores in the sports section of the newspaper. He loves his brother and dotes on his sister. He is a big helper and not a big complainer(usually). He still likes to cuddle with mom and play catch with dad. He enjoys school and loves church. He loves music and is quite the ham. (I don't know where he gets that from!) He is a blessing and I am so thankful that God gave him to me.