Happy Birthday Milo Thomas (and Justin Bieber...)

I remember a year ago today pretty vividly.  March 29th, 2012 started like any other day in a 37 week along pregnant lady.  I was crabby, busy, and willing that baby to come OUT.  I had been to a routine doctor's appointment, and he hadn't offered to check me, so I had every reason to believe that the (at the time) unnamed baby was it in for the long haul.  I went to youth group that night, and I will forever credit Tricia and Gail Ingram for the magical combo of their mom's macaroni & corn (yummo!) and Gail's belly flick encouraging the lil' guy to come out.  I came home, finally coming to terms that I was not going to have that Leap Day baby that I'd set my heart on having, and I tucked Ivy into bed.  And thus began a series of what I thought was bladder control (or lack thereof) issues for the next half an hour.  I noticed a small puddle on the floor at one point, and that's when Brian suggested that I call the doctor.  (Seriously, after two other labors, you would think I would have a little more common sense...)

We headed to the hospital, and one sleepless night, epidural, and migraine later, the unnamed baby entered the world in the easiest labor process ever.  (Says the lady who had gladly accepted the epidural.)  I had one of the worst migraines of my life and finally succumbed to it when the hospital staff took Mr. Unnamed Handsome Baby away to warm him up (his body temp was dropping, and he wasn't in any danger...but I do appreciate the precautions the hospital takes), and promptly threw up three times.  Once I was administered something stronger than Advil, I was allowed to go up to my room, and I was feeling beyond miserable (thanks, migraine).  I remember crying, out of pain and exhaustion and all other post-partum related hormones, and Brian and my mom left with determination and came back in what seemed like seconds with a nurse wheeling in the most handsome bundle of handsomeness (matched only with Mr. Max & that Brian guy, of course) ever.  And he was handed to me, and it's a moment I will never forget.  Everything faded away, the pain and hormonal stuff momentarily melted, and I remember feeling SO happy.  So calm.  So....something wonderful, but indescribable.

To this day, the boy (who, by the way, Max helped name at about 8 pm that night) still has that affect on me.  Holding a sleeping Milo is a sure fire way to relax me.  He just has this sweet, calming nature about him, and his very nature reminds me so much of Brian.  Not too mention that I continue to assert that he's what Brian would look like with blonde hair and six teeth.  :)  And there is a temper, that we all try not to provoke (holy SCREECHING!), but for the most part he's happy to just be along for the ride, and preferably a part of any action.  He's a quietly persistent little man, who knows what he wants and isn't afraid (at all) to get it.  He's not openly fearless yet.  Just methodically concentrated on every task he wants to complete.  And his smile is the handsomest thing ever.  And his giggling and cooing makes me melt.

A year and a day ago....I don't remember what that was like.  But I can't imagine life without Milo Thomas.  Happy birthday to my little man!