I told him how the first words I said when he was laid on my chest were "he's perfect." How daddy cut the cord that had attached his belly to me. How everyone was so excited and happy to hear that we had a baby. How we called all his grandparents and aunt and uncles and friends. How people sent flowers. How we chose the perfect name for him, and what other names we thought of. 
And he laid against me and listened with a huge grin on his face. "Tell me more about when I was born."
He loved hearing about his special entrance into the world. But most of all, he loved hearing how special he has always been to me and Ben. How we couldn't wait to meet him, and how we have loved him each day since then. So I told him more. And I think I will tell him this special story every year on the night before his birthday. Because four years ago, tonight, I was in labor, waiting to meet my first child. And it was terrifying, and painful, and exhausting, and emotional. But it was the beginning of my life as a mother. And I love the idea of remembering that night and all the joy and love that it created.
My baby turns four tomorrow. So I'm taking the time to remember the beginning of his life now. Because the years go by so fast. And I don't want to forget any of it.
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