Today is our youngest son’s 32nd birthday. A birthday is always a special day and this one is no exception. Today my son is the same age as I was when I gave birth to him. And when I think back to that particular time in my life, I can’t help but think about how grateful I am that he came along.
A Happier Ending
Jordan was our fourth son, born on the fourth day of the fourth month, at 2:44 p.m. in room 244. Those statistics alone make me smile. But most important, he was born breathing, unlike our third born son.
Becoming a mother was not an easy decision for me to make, but I do not regret having made the decision to be a mom. Each birth was in and of itself a miracle, impacting my life and altering me in some way. The first born was the one who made me a mom for the first time and the second born taught me that each child is unique. Our third born brought me sorrow because of his death and then came Jordan along.
After having two uneventful pregnancies and deliveries, it seemed right to have another child. Afterall, I’d committed myself to staying home full-time and making motherhood my career so to speak. My husband, though, was a little surprised by my statement, “Let’s try for one more.” But, he agreed.
Although all seemed to be just fine with the pregnancy, all was not. The day before my due date, our little son suffocated from an undetected knot in his umbilical cord. It was unexpected, heart wrenching, a very sad time for our family. But, I knew I did not want Elliott to be the last page, so to speak, in the chapter of my life entitled “Bearing Children.” So, I cautiously approached my husband with the same statement as before, “Let’s try for one more.”
This time though, he looked at me with eyes full of grief and doubt and shook his head no. I let my request rest for a time before trying again. This time he relented and gave me the ultimatum that this was the last one no matter what.
The nine months I carried Jordan were once again uneventful and instead of waiting for labor to kick in, we set a date to induce his labor. It was a nerve racking day, but successful. Whew!
While Jordan was growing up, I told him the events surrounding his birth more than once. One year he asked me a very poignant question, “Mom, if Elliott hadn’t died, would you still have had me?”
“Without a doubt, Jordan, you were meant to be.”
Why bother to still be grateful? As old as my son is, my gratitude for him has not aged. It is as fresh as the day he was born.