I’ll never forget the feelings of nervousness and disbelief I felt on May 1st 2003. I had given birth to our first son just two days before on April 29th. And now, our nurse was giving us discharge instructions and preparing to send us home. Her instrucions included care for me, follow up appointments, umbilical care, and several other things that would be helpful over the next couple of weeks, but then what? What about the next five, ten, fifteen years? When she cut our hospital bracelets off and sent us on our way, I remember thinking, and even saying to Jeremy, “They’re just going to let us go? Shouldn’t we get a how-to manual or something?” After all, I’d received more information and pamphlets with our new camera, than I did with this precious human life entrusted to us forever.
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| Owen Griffin at 4 days old. |
That day must have been when my worry wart ways and over protectiveness kicked in as I sat in the backseat of our car with Owen, watching his every breath as he slept, and repeating over and over to Jeremy, “Can you believe he’s ours?”
After five days of being settled at home, I can remember so clearly looking at Owen, and feeling an overwhelming amount of sadness in realizing he was already a week old. Then it dawned on me that as quickly as a week had passed, so would a month and a year, and then five years and ten.
And it did…. last month Owen turned ten. Over the past decade, there have been many times I wish I had that how-to manual. I’m sure it would be tattered and torn by now. With highlighter in many sections including how to calm an infant who hates being strapped in a carseat. He would scream the entire car ride. The corners would be turned down on the pages explaining how to get your six month old nursing baby to take a bottle. I never did figure that one out.
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| Owen's 10th Birthday |
This morning Owen woke up and headed outside to let the chickens out of their coop like he does so willingly every morning. Then he came inside and asked if he could make his brother and sister chocolate chip muffins all by himself. I watched him pour the batter and the milk. Then I watched him help his little sister put foil liners in the muffin tin. When the muffins were ready, the kids sat down to eat, Owen reminded Ava that it was her turn to ask the blessing over the food, and I lost it. Yes, it hit me just like that. Even without a manual, that little newborn has grown into such an independent, caring, and helpful little guy. I stood there in tears thanking God for blessing us with Owen, and praying blessings over his next ten years…
Lo, children are a heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. Psalm 127:3
