I was 37 weeks pregnant, rushing around work in my European houseshoes (the only pair of shoes I had that fit my swollen feet), trying to finish up some projects before I had to leave for my weekly ultrasound. I met my husband at the doctor's office; we drove in separately. After the ultrasound, the doctor walked in and said, "You timed it just right."
They'd been monitoring me for pre-eclampsia, and I'd had to do a protein test over the weekend (which is probably the only time I've missed WisCon since 1998). Even though my C-section had already been scheduled for mid-June, it was time to move it up.
Without rehashing the details, we wound up with this:
He not only turns five, but graduates from pre-K.
Happy birthday, son.
With much love,