Twenty-Eight Years Ago

Is it possible?
Twenty-Eight years?

I woke when she shook me. Still dark outside, she was standing next to the bed...
"I think my water broke."
Yes, I could see it had.
Grab the 'phone, call the ER...
"Her water broke. What now?"
"Bring her here."

That five minute drive started in an unlikely way-
The starter was kaput on our Fiat 124 Spyder, so I pushed the little convertible to a downhill slope, then with fingers crossed, jumped in and popped the clutch. What a relief when the engine started!

At the hospital, things were moving slowly...
They had connected her to a monitor so we could watch the baby's heartbeat along with Sara Jean's vital signs. We quickly learned how to tell when the next contraction approached, and since they were still separated by 45 minutes or so I asked, "How long before she'll deliver?"
"A couple hours, maybe longer."
I was hungry.
"Honey, would you mind if I go eat breakfast?"
"No, go ahead."
I went to our local greasy spoon and ordered breakfast, announcing to everyone I knew that today we would be parents.
Back at the hospital, I was kinda shocked by the scene-
They had given Sara Jean a drug called Pitocin to speed up the labor process, and WOW!!, did it work!
We could still foresee an oncoming labor pain, but now they were coming every few minutes, and saying SJ was in considerable discomfort when they hit would be extraordinary understatement.

Time for the delivery. I scrub up with the Ob/Gyn. He insures my hands are scrubbed raw before he allows me to don rubber gloves to come and observe the birth of my baby.
I stand at Sara Jean's head, watching the action down below in a big mirror. Of course the birth is a miracle, but it's a bloody, messy miracle. The blood is understandable. The mess? Well, we won't go into that.

"Outside plumbing!"
Until this morning, the Doc has been predicting a girl. The baby's heart-rate when he first hooked up the monitor made him reconsider. We didn't know what we were getting until HE was born.
I whooped!
We both wanted a boy.

So now he's a 28 year old man, living in Arizona. Our work schedules conflicted this year so we cannot be with him on this special day, and that sucks, but we'll work on making up for it at a later date when his schedule (and mine) is not so frenetic.

On July 6, 1983 I could not have imagined the way this story would unfold.
I was out of work, we were living in a teeny-tiny house, driving a little Italian Sports Car with a busted starter.
God blessed us that day with a healthy baby boy, and he (and my son) have blessed us nearly every day since.
My son is a wonderful, caring human being. I could not be more proud of him.

Happy Birthday my son. We'll see you as soon as possible.
And Lord, thank you for giving him to us.