I left my warm bed in the middle of the night to check in for my scheduled c-section. After a few hours of monitoring, prepping and an epidural that was supposed to "pinch a little" but hurt like Dante's 4th level of hell, he arrived.
The boy we had planned on being a girl came out and seemed more precious than the 3 perfect boys before him. It's hard to believe that you can fall in love all over again after giving birth three previous times. I get why my Grandmother had 6 and my Mama had 7 - babies can be addictive.
From the beginning he wrapped his teeny loving arms around our bruised hearts and we began journeying back to who we were meant to be: a cohesive, loving family. I'm not giving him all the credit, but he marked a turning point in Bain history. God sent us a baby - a 2-day-after Christmas-reminder- that He knows what we need way before we do. We'd found out months earlier it wasn't the baby we thought. I'd wanted something salty and sassy. I had my mind and heart set on a little girl with bouncy brown curls, but it turns out what our whole family needed was sweet, smiling boy with sandy blond hair.
He's a Mamma's boy and a Daddy's boy. His smile stretches from ear to ear and he likes to wear the same clothes 5 days in a row. He comes to get in bed with us almost every night, curling right up beside me as I whisper my love to him. Every morning, he meows or barks loudly to let me know he's awake. Waiting on kisses and hugs before beginning his day with a story. He asked for a Bible for his birthday and adores reading about Samson. He's a lover and a politician and has yet to meet a stranger. He has recently developed an awe of all things Davy Crockett.
Happy Birthday Butterbain...so glad I'm living and I'm so glad you're mine!