He spent 3 hours assembling a brand-new Lego set. We're talking laser-beam focus for three hours!
And 6 years ago, I was praying with that same fervent, undistracted focus:
"The amniotic fluid is too low. Your baby is in distress. We're going to have to induce you right now. Call your husband."
The nurse left the room. I lay on the hospital bed, strapped to two machines, listening to my baby's heartbeat. I felt so alone. And scared.
I focused on the air-conditioning vent and began praying. "Oh Heavenly Father, God of all mercies, be with me now. Comfort me, O Lord. Oh Father, please. Please. Help my baby. Help my baby."
By the time The Mateo had arrived, they had started the pitocin drip. The contractions were starting. I was completely unprepared. My hospital bag was still at home, it was a week early, this wasn't supposed to be happening.
But it was happening.
And it went quickly. Five hours. And a few pushes and out came James. He came shooting out so fast the doctor laughed.
James was limp and gray.
But he was in my arms.
My first son took his first breath in my arms. He sucked in air and his pale skin went pink. He cried. I cried and thanked my Heavenly Father for this precious miracle of life!
James' face was bruised, a blue vein across his nose. Birth trauma. I guess that's what happens when you come shooting out like a bullet!
"James," I said this morning, "you still have that blue vein across your nose."
"I know!" he chirped. "I've had it since the day I was born!"
Happy birthday, James!