Within twenty minutes of Garrett's birth, I was allowed to take him to the nursery and stay with him through all of the poking and prodding that is supposedly necessary right after birth.
I never took my hands off of him, and I cried happy tears over him. The nurses probably thought I was crazy.
After the mean nurses were satisfied with the amount of tears they caused, they left me alone to bathe and feed my baby.
Once the hospital found an empty room for us, Daddy could admire his Groundhog.
Once we got home to CO, if G wasn't in our arms, he was napping on the couch like so:
And anyway, he wasn't safe on the couch unless his 22 month old brother was occupied.
Six years later, what would I tell myself? "Oh, honey, the Lord is about to rock your world with a move to TX and a third boy, but hang in there. You will survive."
Dear Amy,
ReplyDeleteLoved your memories about the birth of your son. Looking forward to seeing your family soon at Jennifer's new place in TX!! You are a delightful writer.
Love,
ginger Hagewood