I had my doubts, though.
My last pre-natal check-up was the day before, on a Thursday. I saw a doctor in the practice--not my own--who measured, weighed, and, well, you know, checked things out. I wasn't dialated a fraction of a centimeter. So I asked him, ever so politely, if he might consider inducing my labor, since, well, you know, it was close to Christmas time, his vacation, my vacation, Pat's vacation, and my resemblence to a whale.
He said he'd see me in a week. Not exactly what I wanted to hear.
I can so vividly remember my frustration. Frustration which has been equalled 843 million time since that day.
Pat drove me over to Courtney's house so I could properly vent my rage (high horomone levels do not compliment my temperment). She wasn't home, so we drove the long and lonely drive home, in which I told Pat to floor it on every bump and pothole in the road so we could shake this baby out.
It worked splendidly. I woke up the next morning around 5 am with what I thought was an upset stomach from Ci-Ci's the night before. I realized it was more than indigestion when the cramps made me drop and double over on the bedroom floor.
Parker was born that night.
So yesterday, Parker turned five years old and it's hard to believe that just five years ago, my life was changed forever. Never before had I felt with such sureness the love that God has for us because he gave His precious Son for us. Never before had I understood the sacrifice and the gift that God gave us. A precious baby saved us.
Needless to say, Parker changed my life. He's wild and crazy and obnoxious and doesn't think with his brain sometimes. But he loves people with all that he is worth.
And last night at bedtime prayers with Parker, I told God how thankful I was that our family has been blessed by Parker.
When we finished, Parker said, "How's come you talked about me so much in our prayer?"
Because I'm glad it's your birthday, little man.
