8

Tomorrow this baby will be 8 years old.

In some ways, I can't believe that he's 8 already. I feel like he was just barely born. I remember feeling so hot and swollen (Vegas in July = not the best time to be 9 months pregnant). I had annoyed my poor doctor into consenting to an induction on my due date. We were supposed to go to the hospital mid-morning, but they called us around 6 and asked if we could come in earlier. Justin and I were so excited that we agreed. Foolishly, without eating anything, we went in. My induction with Clayton was pretty standard. I got my pitocin and epidural at the same time. I had the mother of all epidurals. I could not feel a thing (which was how I wanted it). My mom and sisters hung out with me in the delivery room while I labored and Justin went back and forth between the delivery room and the waiting room, where the rest of our family were waiting for updates.

I remember being given oxygen because his heart rate was dropping. I didn't think it was a big deal, but my mom did. I remember I took the oxygen mask off for a second and she gasped and insisted I keep it on.

I remember being told I was a five. Justin went to go update our family, leaving me with the nurse and my mom. A few minutes later (literally, minutes), the nurse checked me again and I was a ten! Justin wasn't in the room anymore and the nurse was concerned because he was still in distress and my doctor wasn't there yet. Justin came back into the room about the same time as a whole horde of nurses descended on me. They gave me a shot to stop my contractions and were getting ready to get me down to the OR for and emergency c-section. I was scared. Really scared. So was Justin.

As we were about to get wheeled out, Dr. Paul showed up (seriously, my knight in shining armor). In what seemed like seconds, he put the vaccum extractor on Clayton's little baby head and yanked him right out. Just like that, it was over and I had a very sweet (and very cone-headed) healthy baby boy.

He weighed in at a whopping 8 pounds and was the cutest baby I'd ever seen (I still 'awwww' a little when I look at his baby pictures).

I remember looking at him and just being floored by the realization that 1) this kid was ours - a little bit of me and a whole lot of Justin 2) I could love someone I just met so fiercly.

So now, on the eve of his 8th birthday, I have trouble believing that my first little love, my baby, the boy who made me a mom, who used to depend on me for EVERYTHING, has gone from this:

to this:

Happy birthday Clayton. To say I love you just doesn't seem strong enough to express how I feel about you. You are becoming quite the young man and, while I miss the baby you were and our total co-dependent relationship, I love watching you become the man that you're going to be.