Bittersweet Memories

My kids birthdays are such a bittersweet day for me. I rejoice and celebrate with them that they are one year older, one year closer to kindergarten, one year closer to driving their first car, one year closer to graduation. But in the back of my mind I remember the day I gave birth.

Ben, my middle son, turned 4 yesterday. My labor with him long, 60 hours to be exact. I had to have an epidural (which was an improvement from my previous birth that ended in C-section) He weighed 8lbs 10 oz and was adored by his older brother. When I was pregnant for Ben I desperately hoped for a girl. After Ben was born, he looked at me with those big blue eyes and I just melted. God knew exactly what I needed.
As I sit here I realize something...isn't it funny how, each year, I find I remember less and less of the actual birthing event. The one thing that does not waiver is the memory of the first time I held them in my arms.