Nine Years

It was 9 years ago tomorrow: March 28, 1999 at 4:20 a.m.

I had been at the hospital with Diego's mother during a difficult and lengthy labor. As he walked out of the hospital room at 3:45 a.m., the doctor warned that it would be a long night and advised me to try to get some sleep. The nurse had to call him back to the hospital almost immediately when Diego decided he was going to arrive with or without medical supervision. At barely 5 pounds and nearly 3 weeks premature, Diego was born with a double knot in his umbilical cord; he was severely deprived of oxygen.

I feel blessed to have witnessed Diego's birth early that Palm Sunday morning. I admit, I was in love with him the moment our eyes met.

Little did I realize Joe and I would be further blessed to call him our son 3 1/2 years later.

Diego continues to be a blessing on my life, every day. He makes me smile, laugh, cry, and I am tremendously proud of him.

I used to ask God the "Why" question in regard to not being able to have "our own" children. I didn't think I'd have an answer this side of heaven.

I now know why... Diego. I wouldn't be his mom if I'd been able to have biological children. I wouldn't be raising this special little boy. I would not have known the sweetness of the touch of his precious little hands. My neck would not know the strength of his hug. I would miss the way he curls up on my lap to snuggle, even if he never had. How I would ache to hear his voice call out, "I love you, Mommy."

Diego is my precious, damaged angel. But I am so very grateful that his birth mother chose to give him life; if she hadn't there would be a Diego-sized hole in the hearts of all who know him.

So, Happy Ninth Birthday, my little love; I thank God for lending you to me!