Happy Fifteenth Birthday To Gabriel, My Son

Today, I am celebrating the fifteenth birthday of my oldest child, Gabriel, who has grown to be quite a computer buff.  Here he is at the beginning:

Gabriel is shown here using the dinosaur computer as a youngster.

I still remember that being called into the OB/GYN's office, where he calmly explained that I needed to get on a special diet.  I was working at the time as a fourth grade teacher.  I ate peanut butter and crackers on my break.  I would come home after teaching and would go to bed exhausted by eight in the evening.  The gestational diabetes would go away once I gave birth to my son.

I still remember having the contractions and waiting until they were about four minutes apart before heading to the hospital.  I spent most of the day from about ten in the morning until about five in the afternoon on the sofa, counting the minutes until my husband arrived.

I still remember the old, fixed up Chevy station wagon that carried us to the hospital.  Every time my husband turned that car on, it sounded like an airplane.  Hubby had re-painted it red and white.  It was a very roomy car.Oh, they don't make cars like them anymore.

I still remember that a young doula, out of nowhere, came into the tiny room to help me breath my son into the world.  She held my hand through it all.  I was so happy to have someone help me.  I never went to Lamaze classes.  I almost went through all the contractions without the help of pain medications.

I still remember finally looking into the face of my son and seeing the uncanny resemblance to my father.  I forced myself to talk to him, even though I was not trained to care for a newborn; I just knew that I had to make the best effort for him.  I remember that there were renovations in the hospital so even the private room for me to visit with my son was tiny.  I held him as much as I could and then started walking back to my room.  I held onto the railing because I was dizzy.

I still remember that I had gotten up, despite my dizziness, because one rude nurse told me that I had to get up.  When another kind nurse saw that I was struggling to walk, she got me a wheelchair to go the rest of the way.  My sister would later recount how they wanted to visit with me but were turned away by one nurse because I was not conscious.

I still remember sitting in my bedroom, holding my son who had been released one week later because of an infection.  I realized that my life would never be the same.  I had a precious life in my hands.  I had to feed him.  I had to clothe him.

Now, my boy is a teenager.  He's cooking, cleaning, and caring for his siblings.  I am very blessed to have such a wonderful, kind, and obedient son.  I am living the song, "Butterfly Kisses," by Bob Carlisle. 

Even though he sings the song for his daughter, I still feel that "...I don't know what I did to deserve this..."  I am just happy that our sacrifice of me staying home with him and his siblings, instead of working outside of the home, has been paying off--Gabriel has turned out to be a young man that I can be proud of.

Here is Gabriel recently, probably tweaking my laptop:

Gabriel is shown here as a teenager.

Happy birthday, to you, my beautiful son, Gabriel.

Yes, I think you do deserve that new computer, son. ;)

Thanks for reading this, everyone.  Peace to you all.