Nine

Jackson is nine. My artistic, fun-loving boy is nine.

It seems like yesterday my water broke before bedtime and my doctor tried to convince me it was only urine. And so I waited until it happened again. Only minutes later. So off we went to the hospital. After getting checked into the hospital, they started to induce labor. At 4:20 a.m. I was 5 cm. But by 5:15 a.m., I was in full panic mode. I told Joe I felt like I needed to push. He gently reminded me that I was only 5 cm and couldn't push yet. So I ignored it. Until the next contraction. It's hard to explain, but I could feel the baby's head "clunking" down through my body. He was definitely engaged. I told Joe, again, I needed to push. And he gave me the same advice that I couldn't push yet. That's when I had a mini freak-out. I fumbled around in the bed to look for the nurse's button and as soon as I saw the red button, I pushed it. When the nurse called back in, Joe casually told her, "she thinks she needs to push." And with that, the room was filled with nurses and my doctor. And Jackson was born at 5:22 a.m.

Jackson has been the victim of his older brother's antics and has survived. He currently has a Christmas ornament hanging on the state's tree in Annapolis. Jackson is very loving and compassionate. He has had two very good friends with Downs Syndrome. One he was going to marry in preschool and the other came to his birthday party on Saturday. Jackson just has a way about him.

Jackson, we love you. Thank you for being in our family. Happy birthday, my boy.

I am noticing how yucky that cake pan looks. I made gingerbread and you were supposed to mix all the ingredients in the ungreased cake pan. I guess I scraped down the sides and didn't notice how ugly it made it look. Sorry if I'm grossing you out.