This is the latest picture I have of him(standing on the right).
To me, he's just not your "gee I want to have a baby, slam-bam and 9 months later, here's my son."
No, he was an 8 year process of prayers, pills, miscarriages, heartache and desire to give Kelli Lynne a sibling.
He was the culmination of me finally saying, "Let go and let God," if it's meant to be.
And letting God have the last laugh.
(And I do believe God laughs, especially at me. I have so much material for Him to work with.)
With Kelli almost 8 years old and in school, I decided to go to nursing school. If I couldn't have another baby, I would go take care of other babies.
Everything fell into place for my admission.
I made some great friends.
Friends who would be my lifesavers when six weeks into school I found out I was pregnant!
Nursing school doesn't usually give you a time out for pregnancy, much less a high risk one so my nursing student posse took over.
If I needed to move a patient, someone was there for me.
I'm sure my instructors looked the other way a lot of times when I had help lifting patients into wheelchairs only to be assisted by other students who did this on their own volition. The instructors knew I knew the material, studied hard, aced all my tests and that I would make it through school as a phenomenal nurse.
In April the Posse had a surprise shower for me. I needed everything as I had given stuff away after 8 years of no need for baby stuff.
On May 8, 1985 at 8:27 a.m. my 8 pound 4 ounce son was born by repeat C section.
I named him Michael Timothy...Michael for a childhood best friend who died of leukemia and Timothy for St. Louis Cardinal Catcher Tim McCarver.
Five days later the nursing instruction staff had Michael in the lounge passing him around while I took semester finals at school which I aced!
I call him my miracle baby.
18 months and 18 days later, God got the ultimate laugh when Kiereney Jo was born.
Watch what you ask for.
But that's another blog post.
I so miss my miracle baby, now young man.
He is a gentle giant.
Everything you would want in a son if you could go to the store and pick out the characteristics.
So hope you brought your barf bag today while reading this post because this mom is laying it on thick.
I love my son and am so proud of him.
And with tears in my eyes, I miss him like crazy.
God bless you my miracle baby.