The Story of You
I am sitting in the delivery room with your mother and it’s 12:35 a.m. on February 4, 2018. She is in so much pain and I’m watching her thinking, “I would do anything to make her pain go away.” We still have a long way to go, but all the nervous feelings I had about you coming are gone, and all that’s left is excitement for you, and guilt/pity for your mom.
It’s 12:54 a.m. She’s sleeping now. She got an IV of something that should control her pain a little and let her sleep. I wish I could bottle this night up and show it to you when you’re older and acting out. If I tell you to do something and you don’t do it, we’ll handle that. But if your mom tells you do something, after tonight…. well, I’m on her side.
The nurses are telling us that you are one of the most active babies they’ve seen come through. I really hope that doesn’t mean you are going to be a wild child when we bring you home and keep us up all night. I guess as long as you’re healthy, I will take some abuse when it comes to letting us sleep.
It’s funny, but all I want right now are 1.) for your mom to make it through this and 2.) for you to be healthy and have functioning lungs and a beating heart, ten fingers and toes, and all that jazz. When we first got pregnant, we worried about whether you’d be a cute baby and whether we’d be able to tell if you were or you weren’t. We were afraid we’d be the parents who were blinded by the fact that you were ours, and couldn’t tell that you were an ugly baby (they do exist!). Now, all I care about is that you come out breathing, and that we figure out enough to keep you breathing when we take you home.
Your grandparents and family all want to meet you. The Whitts are all out to dinner right now and sending your mother and I video of them celebrating. The Rauchs are at home and sending their love — your grandma (step-monster as she likes to say to me) sends her love, hugs, kisses, prayers, and just about everything else she has in her to you, and your grandpa is so excited to have a grandson. The Butlers are all spread out — you’ll get to know that about them — but want to meet you more than anyone I know. Your mom and your grandma were talking to each other when she was hooked up to IV’s and I could see the emotion welling up in your mother. They are flying in to town tomorrow to meet you, and don’t be surprised if your grandma never wants to let you go. Your grandpa Jim will have a lot to teach you — he is one of the most honest people I’ve ever met (sometimes to a fault), but he is among the most important people I’ve ever known.
What I love is that everyone has been writing to us all night asking about you, your mom, and how everything is going. You will be loved by more people in your life than you will ever realize, and I hope that you will give it back to them however you can.
Now it’s 9:15 p.m. You are lying on your mother watching the Super Bowl with us. There was so much that happened today that we can get into some day, but you came at 10:48 a.m., very suddenly. You got to meet your Grandma and Grandpa Whitt, Uncle Jordan and Tyler, and Aunt Georgia and Paige. You got to talk to Grandma and Grandpa Butler. You’ll probably call them something different when you grow up, and I will be excited to learn what that is.
You were nice enough to sleep through most of the day, and have absolutely stolen our heart. When we first saw you, your mother and I both cried. Since then, you’ve been nothing short of amazing and are setting the bar pretty high for what is yet to come.
The story of you starts with the story of us — me and your mother, and all the wonderful people in your life who will love you like there are no limits. The story of you changed the story of us, and I’m excited to share the new story of us with you as you grow.
2-4-18
From Ryan to Reagan and Koen 