To celebrate a life . . .

Eight years ago (except it was a Tuesday) on a warm, bright day, much like today, Joe and I went to the doctor's office for one of our final pre-natal visits before Josiah was to be born.
Upon checking me, the nurse announced that I was dilated to a five, and should not return home (45 minutes away) but should go directly to check in at the hospital. I didn't even have my hospital bag. I had to call my cousin to bring it.
We walked over to the hospital, and checked in.
Everything was fine, and the doctor decided to break my water to get things moving. I had been in labor for days, but it was slow going.
I took the drugs (I know, I know . . . but I don't regret it one bit. I'm a wimp like that.) and we waited for Josiah to enter this big, bold world.
Joe and I talked and laughed and held hands and watched the monitors.
Finally, at about 4:15, the nurse said, "I'm just gonna step out and get the doctor."
He came into the room. I pushed a few times. And at 4:20 p.m., out popped one of the greatest gifts of my life.
My sweet Josiah!
I got to hold him right away.
He was not a happy camper!
Oh, but I sure was.
And he has been bringing me joy and laughter, and has been growing my heart bigger than I ever thought it could grow, for all these eight years.
I am getting ready to celebrate this day with him in his classroom with his school friends.
Then, tonight, my family will gather at my house and have his favorite meal . . . pasta e fagoli with all the fixins, and a special cake baked by Grandpa.
Sunday he will have a Super Mario party with his friends. Mom is busy putting it all together. She really should go into business. She can throw a kids party like nobody's business!
I'm excited about our celebrations of life. Of Josiah's life.
He is kind and smart and funny and thoughtful, and it has been my pleasure to be his mom!
Happy Birthday, Jo! I love you so much!!