14 December 2022
Happy Birthday, Jason!
I write this 44 years to the day I lay in a hospital bed freezing and afraid. The high was 35 that day, but it was supposed to warm up the next day….your birthday. Don’t get too excited, though, as the high was only 45 on the 15th.
I don’t remember too much of what happened on the 14th. I know they checked me to make sure we could go ahead with your birth. I do remember being so afraid that there might be a problem since I had been so sick for those 10 months….You might remember that you were supposed to be born on November 11, but you were hard-headed and cantankerous and refused to make an appearance. I guess it was good that you decided to wait because Ohio State was playing Michigan at home that year, and we were afraid we’d never make it to the hospital if you decided to debut in November. I always said that you didn’t want to be born until it was above freezing. Considering what I told you about the weather, that was probably true.
When they finally pulled you out at 4:23 pm, Dr. Bryan said, “We have a boy!” I kept asking if you were all right, and they kept telling me that you were fine. That was all I cared about. Dad got to see you before I did, and I wanted to hold you, but they wouldn’t let me. They had to clean you up and take care of me first.
Later that night, they brought you to me, and I held you and tried to feed you. Grammy wanted to hold you, but the nurses said no. We cuddled, and I noticed immediately that, unlike most babies, you did not have your eyes closed. That night, and the following 7 nights that we were in the hospital, you always had your eyes open when they brought you into my room. Because it was close to Christmas, there were a lot of Christmas shows with sparkling lights and such, and I would catch you watching them. We were amazed at how alert and curious you were even as a newborn.
We got home on December 22, and believe it or not, you slept through the night on December 23…and you slept through the night from that day on (unless you were ill). I think it was a Festivus Miracle!
So, anyway, here we are 44 years later, and I’m wondering where the time has gone. I miss the time when you were a baby. I miss the time when you toddled around the house. I miss dancing in the kitchen and tucking you in and doing somersaults off the bed. I miss those silly songs we sang and reading you books in bed and sledding down the hills in Atlanta in a cardboard box. I miss your school years (although maybe not high school so much).
I don’t know if you realize that I wonder how your dad and I created the miracle that is you. You are our life, our soul, our heart, and we love you more than anything… even when you are cantankerous…