Eighteen years ago yesterday, Elijah was born.
He was our first boy.
I knew he was a boy before the ultrasound.
I also knew his name was supposed to be Elijah.
I've never felt any "supposed to's" about any
of my other children, but I felt it strongly with him.
His birth was easy and the room was aglow with such sweetness after he was born.
I remember just basking in that feeling.
I also remember the first time my Grandma Brown held him.
She whispered "There is something special about this boy."
I felt it too.
In the midst of his terrible two's I wasn't so sure about that anymore...
Every night when I put him to bed he would say, "I'm a bad boy."
"No, you aren't," I would say, "but you have to stop biting people."
"Okay," he would agree.
It took a good year to get that under control.
One day when he was four he came to me and said, "Mom, I don't know who I can marry. When I think of all the girls, you're the only one."
I smiled knowing that feeling would go away sooner than I would want it to...
And so, on the 18th anniversary of the day he came into this world, I am remembering that little guy who captured my heart the moment I saw him staring wide-eyed at the woman who would try with all her heart to be the mom he deserved.
I'm still trying.
Happy Birthday Elijah-sure love you.
