Well, as you know, God has other, funnier plans (always) and I went into natural labor at around 2am on the 30th of November. Yup, my ginormous baby, whom I thought could stay in there for another week (I wasn't in a hurry, I was going to give birth at a hospital that is 7 minutes away and I wasn't quite ready. I also had just gone to the doctor the day before and wasn't even really dilated at all!). His birth story is my favorite if you want to read about it here.
Fast forward to today. It is the eve of the feast of St. Nicholas and I can't help but remember about wanting an extra week of being pregnant (which would have made him over 11 pounds, I'm sure!) with the first baby born after two losses. I guess, looking back, I treasured that pregnancy a little more than any before because of the hope that a baby, brought to term, represented to me. His delivery was the worst of the the first four, but he is the BEST kid. He's easy going, friendly, funnier than all-get-out, and snuggly (he will probably always be snuggly, even when he's a grown man). He just turned 6 last week and is just as funny as he was when he was a week old, six years ago tonight. He made me laugh (as soon as the pain from giving birth to that chunk of baby!) from the moment I laid eyes on him. He never gets self conscious or embarrassed when people laugh at the funny things he says and does. He just always assumes everyone is laughing WITH him (which is usually true!) and I hope he never loses that ability.
Happy Birthday/saint's day, Niklaus John, my sweet, big, squishy boy (who is still obsessed with Texas and wants to go there someday)!
(Bocker, holding up our town's water tower on a walk we took last month. He is still really big and tough for a kid his age. It's a good thing he has a smooshy heart. He is a gentle giant.)
