My Firstborn is 35! I am older....

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I am trying to stay calm...Paul David is 35 tomorrow at 3:24 pm. I cannot avoid the fact that he has reached an age at which I thought people were adults, old, grown-up, mature, done being children! But he is my son, my baby, my firstborn...how can this be?

I clearly remember the day we found out he was actually growing within my body. It was so mysterious, one day I am a teller at a bank and the next minute I am expecting a little human being. Nothing was the same and yet everything was the same!
His father and I read all of the right books, tried to stay calm and yet kept wondering why nobody realized we were NOT ready for parenthood! We were young, foolish, uneducated in parenting, only married 2 years and certainly could not handle the possibilities that a having a child might bring. For crying out loud, who even knew how to change a diaper? Keep in mind this is before the Internet that could have shown me a YouTube video on how to do it, before car seats were for anyone but the very wealthy, before childbirth was taken over by qualified hospitals and doctors and snatched from the hands of Midwives(tongue solidly in cheek ). There were already rumors that this bearing of a child and raising him to adulthood would most likely wipe out our savings...if we had one. One child per family, please, two at the most, and this was my first! Oh My Goodness.

I had him! His father watched the World Series, I recall, as I labored and birthed this 8 lb. 2 oz. package, then glibly waved to me as I was wheeled by thinking death had arrived disguised as childbirth. He could not be 'with me' since in 'those days' we had to have attended a birthing class together and since I worked(remember I am a Bank Teller?) and his dad worked the night shift, there were no classes available. So he smugly watching TV(Yes they had TV back then!) while I did the job set before me.

His grandmother, my mom, living a few states away, arrived before we left the hospital[one had to stay 3 days back then] and promptly sobbed at first sighting. I could NOT understand this, since she had just met the child and she had known me 23 years and I didn't see her crying at seeing ME! How curious, I thought, until May 1, 2001. Fast forward to Eliot Raymond's arrival and my need for Kleenex as an accessory.

This firstborn son was indeed the wonder of the world I lived in, bringing me joy and pain, laughter and tears, singing and groaning, frolicking and fretting, but always thankfulness and hope and wonder that God would entrust me to raise one of His little blessed children to adulthood, should I be so blessed. And I was.

Paul is one of the most intelligent men I know, next to his father, and his faithfulness to his family is cause for me to be proud to know him. He is a strong leader, secure in the knowledge that his talents and gifts are being well used and were given him for a reason of importance by His God. He calls himself a follower of Jesus, and follows Him well. The path he has been given has not been easy and yet he stays the course, oftentimes walking on the path without a map. But he always has a compass, the Son is always his true north, and he causes me great joy and peace. Peace because on my own path, when I wanted to give up, I have glanced his way and seen a Man walking along,steady and strong, the very same man whom I didn't know how to diaper...

I am so glad God trusted me with this son. I love him. Happy Birthday PD.
I was and always will be Big B.