Our first boy

He was only 5 lbs 11oz when we left the hospital. I called my sister the day we got home and asked how she ever let her children go outside to play because I knew I would never let Ian out of my arms, let alone my sight. He was so fragile and so tiny and had already had a dramatic start to life. It took us 3 very long years and thousands of dollars to even get pregnant with him. I had 2 partial placental abruptions during his pregnancy and at 25 weeks, after a 2 hour ambulance ride to the nearest NICU, we were asked if we wanted the doctors to try and save him if he were born then, all 1 lb 10oz of him. Of course, we said, without hesitation.

Thankfully he decided to stay put until 37 weeks when he was born by emergency c-section on Valentine's Day. Because of the emergency, Jeremy wasn't allowed into the OR. All he could do was watch as they frantically wheeled me upstairs praying we would be alright. There wasn't time for an epidural so I had to be put out completely. In the chaos of the OR, the last thing I remember was someone touching my belly saying that the baby's heartbeat was back up to 150. Relief flooded me just before I went unconscious. We both missed his entrance into this world, his first cry. Jeremy's introduction to fatherhood was spent alone in a maternity room talking to Ian, just father and son, waiting for me. I woke up an hour later to a clean baby wrapped in a red and pink heart blanket and a knitted cap. He was beautiful.

He's now 2 years and 8 months old. He jumps off nearly anything he can climb, he laughs easily and often, he's surprisingly sarcastic and wickedly funny. He loves dinosaurs, trucks, and animals. He sings all the time and does the best version of the ABC's. He says 'please' and 'thank you', and 'you're welcome' so much that he often corrects me when I forget to say it. He is incredibly gentle to younger kids, especially babies. He loves to stand when he eats despite our constantly telling him to sit. He loves to cuddle and will wrap his arm around whatever leg or arm is available when we are curled up on the couch.

I just bought him these dinosaur boots at Fred Meyer the other day and he hasn't taken them off yet. And whenever we pass by each other in the hall he stops me and without hesitation points to each one naming them...Pterodactyl, Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Triceretops.

The truth is, I'm having a harder time with him turning 3 in February than with my own 30th birthday next month. I absolutely love the boy he is becoming and I'm looking forward to many wonderful and fun years with him but I'm also sad because it means he's closer to growing up. I find it incredibly unfair that I have to even think about preschools already. So I don't. I don't think about them because they aren't an option right now. He's home with me and we love it that way. He's so creative and smart and I love watching his brain work things out. It may be selfish but I want to experience those things with him, not a teacher.

Maybe it was the struggle to get pregnant or his dramatic first 9 months of life that makes me feel so protective of him and our time together. Whatever it is...I realize I only have 16 years left with him until he is free to leave and make his own life. 16 years to see him discover new things and make his own decisions. 16 years to teach him and show him how to become a man full of integrity and passion, a man who loves God and has compassion for people. 16 years to enjoy every day with him.

Thankfully I have time. And right now I'm grateful I get to wake up tomorrow morning and give his little blonde head a kiss, make his breakfast, and watch him climb up in his chair with his dinosaur boots on the wrong feet showing me exactly how a dinosaur would ask for his breakfast. Roar.

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