Tomorrow, my baby will be four years old. These are the days I usually reflect upon the desires I had before we conceived a child, the dreams I held during my pregnancy, the pregnancy itself, and then the quickness of the births of my sweet boys. Liam is no exception. That desire for a third child when socially, two children is the norm. How my whole life I said I would NEVER have three children. I was the middle child of three. So is Dave. Why would I do that to a child? But yet, at the ripe old age of 36, I ached for another baby. Ten days after I turned 36, we conceived our third son. Week after week I bled horribly, always thinking this was the last that my body would cradle. My friends that read this that walked that walk with me, time after time, as my older boys learned by the look I gave, or the tone of voice I used that they needed to get their shoes on quickly as we drove to the doctors office to see if I had lost the baby. I spent months in fear. Fear of losing a child I loved dearly before he was brought into my womb. A child that at 14 weeks we knew was a boy. A child that completes our family.
Tonight, as I stare at my baby on his last day of being three, I remember those days. Not the sadness of never having a daughter, but the fear of losing a child I adored, even though I didn't realize it. The gift I was given just for asking. How unworthy I felt. Tonight, as I kiss the last three year old from my womb, I will thank God. I will thank Him for giving me the opportunity to parent such amazing children. I will thank him for people who have come into my life before Liam was born; mothers of all sons, mothers wishing for a daughter, and for a woman who unselfishly gave pumpkin pillows from a far away Cracker Barrel just because a friend asked. To a sister who was present for the birth of a nephew. Who loved this child when I wasn't sure I could. For a family who supported me. For children who already existed who showed me that love is all I needed. For friends who offered their ears, their arms, and their daughters. And finally, to a little boy who is the answer to prayers I didn't know I prayed, but am so thankful I did.
Liam is not what I expected in my life, but he is the child my heart called for. Liam is not what I prayed for in the physical sense, but he is the child that fits all of the requests I asked for in personality, health and temperment. Liam is not what I thought I needed, but he proves every day how wrong I was to think I knew best.
So tomorrow, October 15, I wish a Happy Fourth Birthday to one of the best gifts ever unfolded before my eyes. From a hard pregnancy, to a scary delivery, to a reflux filled little boy that has shown me every step of the way what love means. Proving once again that unanswered prayers are the best gifts. I thank God for my Liam Fisher. For the joy he brings, for the laughter he supplies, for the smiles he gives out as freely as his hugs and kisses, but most of all, for a little boy that taught me that dreams come in all shapes, sizes, and genders.
Happy Birthday, Liam. My dream come true.
Love, Mommy
