365 days

One year ago you came screaming into our lives at 4:37 p.m. It had been a long day and your mommy and daddy were both nervous. After all, we’d never done this before. Both sets of your grandparents paced the hallways. Several friends from Sand Ridge Baptist Church came down, which was unexpected. We thought you might come on your own, but after a long day where nothing happened, finally you arrived via C-section. Mimi was there to watch because your Daddy can’t stand the sight of real blood. I remember getting to go back into the nursery as you took your first breaths and cried your first cries. I was nervous, and the nurses could tell, so they explained everything to me. I was able to get video and pictures of your first moments on this Earth. You were hungry, so you got some food, you got warmed up, and I got to press a button that played a song throughout the hospital.

As they fixed you up some more, I met the rest of your family out in the hall. We chomped on bubblegum cigars the color of a cloudless sky and talked about who you looked most like. Then, the doors at the end of the hall opened and Mommy was brought back to the room on a rolling bed. She looked tired but satisfied, and was anxious to hold you. Finally, your little trolley pulled up outside the room. I got to see you first, and you were like nothing I’d ever seen before. It was amazing to believe that you were half of me and half of your mommy but that there was nothing we could do to make you exist, that it was all a gift of our Heavenly Father. I remember the first time I held you…how you felt in my arms, how your breathing was so calm. I wonder if you knew then just how much I loved you. I left the room for a moment because I couldn’t contain myself and I slid down the wall in the hallway as I burst into tears, unable to understand all the emotions that were raging inside me. I was a dad.

The next few months were a blur, because you kept us up, but it was such a good time. Every day you were doing something different. I remember when you smiled for the first time. Your first time to sleep through the night. Your first laugh. The first time you rolled over on your own. Then came your first attempt at crawling, which we thought would never happen. It wasn’t long after crawling that you were pulling up and attempting to walk by holding on. You still do, but we think that any day now you might just turn loose and then you’ll be truly walking.

365 days ago you came into our lives and changed them completely. And now, as your sister is on her way, I don’t remember what life was like without you. Surely it must’ve been less full, less fun, less lively. I know more of what it is to be loved by God because of you, and I could never imagine a life without you now. I can’t wait to see what kind of man you’re going to grow up to become. Happy birthday, Isaac Soren Estes. God bless you now and throughout your life.

~ by Marty on April 9, 2008.