Some Days you just never forget...

There are some days I will never forget, like the day I met Glen.  I can still remember what he was wearing and what he was doing.  I clearly remember the days I brought each of my children into the world, not because of childbirth; but because of the feeling I had when they were first placed into my arms.  

There are days I wish I could forget, like the day I got into my car accident or the night I told my family I was moving 1100 miles away.

I guess being the oldest in my family I also have very fond memories of my siblings.  I remember sitting on the hospital bed with my parents and naming my sister.  I remember the day I found out my parents were pregnant with my brother Daniel...not one of my proudest moments.  I was 16 and of course I was only concerned about how it was going to effect my life.  But then I remember meeting him and falling instantly in love with him.  He was the third boy I had loved in my life.  My daddy had come first and then there was Nicholas Aaron.  

My mom had previously had two miscarriages before she got pregnant with Nick.  I was young and didn't totally understand but was old enough to feel a loss.  Not until I went through my own miscarriage did I completely understand what my parents must of went through.  Needless to say, when my parents got pregnant with Nick we were thrilled and a little nervous.  It was the first time I learned about praying over children in the womb; a tradition I carried on with all of my children.  My parents prayed over Nick and called him an "overcomer," a name he has lived out his entire life.  

I remember the day Nick was born like all the other days that are engraved on my heart.  We were getting ready to take a walk down by a park near the hospital to help my mom's contractions get stronger.  She went to the bathroom before we left and the next thing we knew an ambulance was coming to get her.  The umbilical cord had come out and Nick was in distress.  They rushed her to the hospital and my mom had an emergency c-section.  They were so quick to save Nicholas, that when they cut my mom open they also cut the bottom of Nick's baby foot.  The cord was around his neck and if my mother hadn't responded as only a mother would have known to, he would have died before they had gotten to the hospital.

I can still place myself at the nursery window with Ann Herndon holding my hand.  I remember the nurses holding him up so I could see my baby brother.  I remember how my prayers and the prayers of so many were answered.  The second boy in my life to love was healthy and whole.

Since then I have my very own boys to love, four to be exact.  I catch glimpses of Nick in my three boys.  A look from across the room or sounds of fire engines and sword fighting. Un Nic, what Lydia calls him; resonates through our home on a regular basis.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Nick.  Thank you for being one of the treasured days of my life.  I love you.