Time Slips By...

When my oldest son turned 25 I was slightly perplexed.  Didn't I just turn 25? Aside from a tired body that often tells me otherwise, I FEEL 25.  Okay... maybe 30.  How could I possibly have a 25 year old child?  How did we go from wiping the peanut butter and jelly from his precious face to having my cheek scratched by his whiskers when he hugs me hello? The moments in between swagger between crystal clear and clear as mud depending on the moment. Selective memory, I have found, is a wondrous gift for the mother of three (once precocious) now adult sons. 

Crystal clear is the moment I first held Matthew... hours after an emergency cesarean had been performed.  The glow of the dimly lit hallway in the maternity ward snuck into my room as did the hushed voices of the nurses on duty.  I remembered waking just long enough to hear my husband tell me we had a son... "a son with a cute button nose, just like yours." (I wouldn't call my nose a button, but relative to his... well, enough said.)  Now... alone with my hormones, a tear slid down my cheek as I longed to see my son for the first time. Did that need justify ringing for a nurse in the middle of the night?  I hesitated as I wiped the wetness from my cheek.  Wait... what was that?  Laughter coming from the nurses station.  Surely, I reasoned, if they have time to laugh they have time to bring my son to his momma.  I reached for the cord... my hand trembled.  I was about to meet my first born.  I pressed the button... I waited.  "May I help you?"  In the most motherly voice I could produce (I was just shy of 20) I asked, "Can you please bring my baby to me?"  Click.  The intercom went dead.  Did she hear me? I wondered.  I decided to be patient...   

My heart was pounding beneath the cotton hospital gown.  The anticipation was almost unbearable.  As I thought about how long I should be patient (not a virtue I ever mastered, by the way) the door to my room slowly opened.  I sat up straighter (as straight as one can sit with 28 staples across their tummy) and held my breath.  The nurse carried my baby boy to my bedside... laid some pillows across my lap... and placed my infant son in my arms.  Quiet tears slid down my cheeks now.  He gripped my finger with his tiny hand and I was amazed at his strength.  He opened his eyes and met my gaze. I don't know how long we sat there, my son and I.  We never noticed that the nurse had left us alone.  He was the most beautiful baby ever born.  As I unwrapped his swaddling blanket I found him to be perfect in every way... right down to his button nose.  I snugly wrapped him back up and held him close and whispered in his tiny ear, "Welcome to our world, Matthew James. You will be forever loved."

There are moments in life that you know you'll never forget.  Moments that are so monumental they are forever etched across the scrapbook of your soul.  This was one of them.