Memories

I am at the hospital, waiting to deliver your baby brother tomorrow.  Everything is going very well, but being here brings back so many memories.  For the most part it's actually a positive experience for me - after all, this was the only place where I got to see and hold my beautiful, first born baby girl.  I have been looking forward to coming back to the same place where I got to meet you.  I feel a connection to you here, and I appreciate that the nurses remember me (and of course I remember them) from your birth.  At the same time, it is so sad to be here and to remember all that your dad and I went through.  

As we rode up to the L&D floor in the elevator today, I remembered my first ride in that elevator.  That day I stared at my feet the entire time, and the entire time we walked down the hallway.  I didn't want to see any balloons or flower arrangements or any signs of happy healthy babies.  (Of course I want people to have healthy babies; I just didn't want the reminders that they were being born around me.)  I walked into the delivery room and saw the warmer that you would never need and I just completely lost it.  I'll never forget that.

Tonight I am laying in a bed in the room next door to where you were born; in fact, it's the same room where your sister was born.  I remember when I was lying in your room I could hear a baby's heartbeat from a monitor in the room next door...and now, I'm listening to Arthur's heartbeat on a monitor in the room next door to your room.  

I'm so thankful for the healthy baby boy that I'm about to meet, and I'm very excited.  At the same time, I want you to know that I still cry for you and you are still so special to me.  I still love you so much, sweet Ada.