Happy Birthday, Nicholas!

November 22, 2009

Thirteen years ago today, I was staring into the eyes of my newborn baby boy for the first time. I was scheduled to be induced at 6 a.m., but Nicholas had other plans. By about 2:30 a.m., it became clear to me that we weren't going to have to wait to be induced, and we headed to the hospital. My first pregnancy and delivery went pretty smoothly, and I was fortunate that this one went almost as well. The only thing I really remember during the actual delivery was that it was much harder than I remembered from the first time around. I told one of the nurses that something was different this time around, and she just smiled sweetly and said, "It just seems that way, because God lets you forget in between pregnancies, so you'll be willing to keep having children." Huh. Interesting theory, but I wasn't buying it, especially not at that particular time. I had no time to ponder her philosophy just then, as I was otherwise occupied.

We seemed to be at a stopping point right around 6. I actually thought he might make Brianna's same arrival time, which was 6:01 a.m., but the boy got stuck. Forceps and vacuum and half an hour later, Nicholas (who would have been named Simba or Figaro if his sister's wishes had been heeded) made his arrival. At 9 lbs. 3 oz., he was a full two and a half pounds bigger than his sister had been at birth. No wonder it had been so much harder--that's a big difference when it comes to baby size!

After checking for the requisite fingers and toes, I gazed into my baby's face, so sweet and well, kind of tiny. At first glance I thought, "Oh no! My baby was born without eyebrows!" But no. On closer inspection, I realized that he was just so fair-haired that his brows were almost invisible. They didn't become obvious parts of his features until well after the age of two.

Nicholas was a great baby, content and pleasant. He had the most wonderful giggle of any baby I've ever known. From early on he was a good sleeper, and a totally cuddly, playful boy. He would wind down his evenings by sucking his thumb and twirling his hair. His favorite way to fall asleep was in my arms. It was my favorite, too. He was my little sweetpea.

And now, my baby boy is all grown up. In the last six months he's gotten taller than me. (It's been great for his posture; he's so proud that he's surpassed me that whenever he walks by me he stretches his spine to his maximum height, just to remind us both that he's ever so slightly taller than me. Clearly, he's not done growing yet, either.) He's also developed the deep "I'm a man now" voice, even though the things that come out of his mouth are still mostly about legos and Star Wars. And you know, even when his words evolve into the words of girls and cars and prospective colleges and beyond, Nicholas will always be my sweet baby boy, my most favorite boy in the whole wide world.

Happy thirteenth birthday, Nicholas!