Weird Kid
When I was little, I used to cut holes in my stuffed animal dogs under their tails, and then I'd stuff miniature beanie babies inside of them so they could "birth" puppies.
When I was little, I used to cut holes in my stuffed animal dogs under their tails, and then I'd stuff miniature beanie babies inside of them so they could "birth" puppies.
My first child was born on Christmas day, just in time for her great great grandfather to see her on his death bed.
I'll never forget the day when I realized I was born 8 months to the day of my parents wedding date.
I watched her tiny tummy sucking in, her skin pulling tight against her ribs, her hand involuntarily closing on my index finger as she struggled for every breath, and I thought, "One day, is one day too much to ask?"
I hadn't known joy until my daughter was born, and I didn't know sorrow until she died.
The day my grandfather was diagnosed as HIV positive was the day my mother found out she was pregnant with me.
No sound compares in fury or power to the sound of a woman pushing a baby through the birth canal without the aid of drugs.
He was only one pound and six ounces, but somehow I knew my son would live.
The only time my father ever considered breaking the speed limit was on the highway to the hospital, where I was delivered ten minutes after arrival.
When she cried the first time, I was surprised that I was ready to handle it like a father should.