March 9, 2008.
Eight years ago today I was [kind of] patiently waiting in the hospital. My water had broken a week before, but because Blake was still so small, the doctors said that it was safer to keep him in as long as possible.
...until that day, when they deemed it was safer to get him out.
And then BAM- just an hour later, there I was.
A lot changed in that hour.
All of a sudden we were parents and we had a TINY little baby and oh my goodness my very first anxiety attack.
But that tiny little baby grew, and it all turned out ok, and now that tiny little baby is EIGHT years old.
And he's strong, and he's smart, and he's funny, and he's trying to convince me that he's not my tiny little baby anymore. (Good luck with that...)
And I'm thankful. Because even though not one second of March 9, 2008 went the way it was "supposed" to go, it still turned out pretty perfectly.