When Lightening Strikes

A loud CRACK ripped through the sky. It woke me instantly, even though I had only gone to sleep an hour before-- after a grueling 24 hours of hard work.

That's a little misleading. Not all 24 hours were grueling, there were moments when I sucked on hard candy while watching Prince (formerly known as a symbol) gyrate himself through a music video. There were other times when I concentrated on not vomiting on my mother. You couldn't really call those moments grueling, but they were emotionally difficult at least.

I looked around and discovered I was alone.
7am on a stormy saturday-- the day that would change my life forever and there's not a soul in sight.
I did what any respectable, self-centered person would do and picked up the phone.

"Why aren't you here?"

"Why are you awake already?"

"Are you coming soon?"

"J, I was up with you all night, I'll be in after I get some sleep".

There really was no rush, I was to stay in that hospital bed for two more days.
Fully awake with a thousand thoughts running through my head (and nearly as many stitches in the opposite end to allow me to wander off), I stared out at that thunderstorm and thought about all of the times in my past that I would rush to a window to watch one roll by--time of day was no exception.

The unspoken rule (when I was growing up)
between my mother and I:
Whoever wakes up first to a thunderstorm must wake the other.
In Arizona, rain storms are rare except during monsoon season which
we would greet every year with joy.

As the rain pelted the window I imagined there couldn't be a better day for the birth of my first child.
It was like God was saying, "I know your fears, but everything is going to be Ok".

21 years later, I still believe it.

Happy Birthday, J1!
You're officially legal...
too bad that means so little for us, huh? ;-)







P/S I love you
and I can't wait to see you in three weeks!