28

Annd.. another birthday.

My son, my first baby, is 28 years old today.
And like I said the other day when my baby baby turned 22, I don't understand how the time has gone by so quickly.

That surprised-looking baby boy the doctor held up in the delivery room has been gone a long time. :)

He's been replaced by a man. He's a good man, works hard to contribute to the partnership he has with his wife, calls his mother on occasion, called yesterday to wish his dad a good day.

We like him just fine. He's turned out to be a good one.

When we found out we were having a baby, we were really surprised. For whatever reason, it didn't happen when we wanted it to. I'd actually given up on the idea of having a child.

So when the 'Wow I am having a lot of heartburn...' turned out to be 'did you know you were pregnant?' it was shocking. The blood test showed "5 1/2 or six weeks post-conception."

One week later, my O.B. doctor told me I was "about 22 weeks."

"Weeks of what?" I inquired, dumbly.
"You are about 5 months pregnant."

Okay then!
We had an ultrasound a week later.

We were excited to find out he was going to be a boy, even though we asked the doctor not to tell us the sex of the baby.

He did the ultrasound, which I still have on VHS... a couple times during the procedure he says something like, "And you don't want to know the sex of the baby."

After he turned the machine off, he said, "Your son will be here about June 10th." He caught himself as he said it, looked embarrassed and quickly added, "Or your daughter!"

So we knew.
And five months to the day that I found out I was expecting him, he showed up. All 8lbs, 7.5 ounces. Scrawny. With great ridges on his head from being squished during the 28 hour labor/possible Klingon father.

Of course he was late. 12 days to be exact. And he's been running late ever since.

Happy Birthday, Matt.