Loving a Grain of Rice

The first time I saw my son he was the size of a grain of rice.....a grain of rice with a heartbeat. I had been having complications early on in my pregnancy and was in the hospital ER in a dark cold room with my husband looking at our son for the first time. I was told later on that night that he had a 50/50 chance of making it and the only thing I could do was wait. That was the night I knew I was really going to be a mom and maybe an OK one at that, because it was then that I would have done anything humanly possible to make sure my grain of rice was safe......something only a mom would do. I had been hooked up to IV's for severe dehydration (I hadn't been able to keep even a glass of water down for more than a week) and then sent home early in the morning for bed rest for a few days. I called my parents the next day telling them I had been in the hospital . That was also the way I had to tell them I was having a baby. Not the exactly the way I had envisioned telling grandparents to be that they were going to be just that. I took a phenegran to stop the sickness and woke up 14 hours later to the sound of my mother cleaning something, a lamp shade or something, in my room. I never took another phenegran after that.....but was so happy my mom was there. She laid in bed with me for a while, asking me over and over if I was SURE if I thought I could keep this or that down. I now understood why she worried so much...it's hard not to. I was just glad she was there.

Well..... this is my grain of rice. He's two years old today.