I remember 4 years ago tonight

I was writing this post. 

And I thought I peed my pants.

And then we went to the hospital and on the way we ate at Wendy's because everyone told me if I didn't eat on the way I'd starve to death. But really nothing sounded good, so I ate half a salad in the parking lot at midnight.

And it took Josh a couple hours to clean out his car to make room for a car seat, because it was full (no really, FULL) of redbox movies and I sat on an old towel because for all I knew I just couldn't stop peeing my pants.

And I wouldn't let Josh call his mom on the way because what if I really did pee my pants?

And I realized I'd never leave home without a diaper bag again.

And I left a garbled message for my boss at 2am over the sound of the oxygen machine and through the mask on my face. They told me not to take it off and I'm nothing if not obedient. 

And my sweet little miracle was born and he didn't cry, and the cord blood shot all over the room, and he peed before they could weigh him and they were sure he would've been over 7 pounds if he hasn't peed everywhere first, and he was whisked away before I got to tell him how much I loved him.

And I cried every day for the next 3 weeks.

And every week for the next 4 years.

And my life has never been, nor will it ever be the same again.

Thank heaven for that.