Happy Birth Day

Seventeen years ago today, I was at the hospital, determined to get through this thing without drugs. When the contractions came, I screamed. I squeezed Chip's hand. I cursed.

But Elijah was a good baby from the beginning — even the labor went quickly. And by dinner time, I had a tiny little very perfect baby boy in my arms. He ate well. He slept well. He was easy to potty train. I often said that your first baby is always the easy one; that's how God tricks you into having more. You're all, "Oh hell, this is easy! I can do this!" and then He slams you with the child from hell. But the joke was on God. I stopped after the first.

Elijah was a deeply spiritual and compassionate child. He was wonderful with kids younger than him and would've made a fabulous big brother. He's played basketball since he was about 5, I think. It was a good choice since he eventually grew to over 6 feet tall. In high school, he joined the rugby team as well. I still don't know all the rules but I sure do enjoy watching him play. Who knew had had such toughness in him?

I'm a right-brained girl who gave birth to a left-brained boy. By middle school, Elijah could do math in his head that I had to scratch out on paper. In high school, he was acing chemistry and physics. His favorite show on TV is Myth Busters.

This is his last year of high school. He's closer to the grown man that he will be than the little boy that he was. Raising him has been such a wonderful blessing for me that I would give anything to be able to do it all over again. Not because I would change anything. Not because I can't let him go. Simply because I enjoyed it that much.

Elijah, you are a delight, and you always have been. I love you, my son. Happy, happy birthday to you. It certainly was a happy birth day for me.