Birthday for Number Two

Hey Kid,

When J hears about her first days in the world, she's going to hear about a missed Winston Marsalis concert, two missed weddings and her mother's obsession with laundry. And yet, you're the one who's going to be remembered for poor timing and probably your parents slow negotiation on choosing a name. Hopefully, you'll have one that you love by the time you're able to read this.

So your sister had already gone to sleep and you're dad was busy (non-obsessively) folding laundry. Mommy called from the hospital and told Daddy to get his butt down there. Grandma and Grandpa came over to watch sister J. For the most part, sister J was able to sleep through it all, but at least once or twice, she got up to test out her lungs and scream. Maybe she knew that you were coming and she wanted to show you how it's done.

Mommy had been at the hosptial for over a week. The day after Thanksgiving, she sprung a leak and got admitted to the hospital. There was a risk of infection or a risk that you just wanted to pop out a couple weeks early. Mommy concentrated on being a baby oven while Daddy took care of J all week.

But on this night, you were ready. Almost two months early, but at 2:56am December 9th, you popped out and screamed so that we all knew you were okay.

You rule the pre-natal intenstive unit. All the nurses know you're the one with the big scream and no name. You're a tiny little thing at 3 pounds and 14 ounces, but healthy. You'll be out of the hospital in the next few weeks. You'll grow soon. You'll be loved. You're already wonderful.