4 Years, 8 Days, and 4 Hours Ago...

It's hard to believe, but 4 years, 8 days, and 4 hours ago (along with some odd number of minutes and seconds I'm not going to bother calculating, because I'm a right-brainer and we don't do math) we welcomed a new person into our family.  He actually came out looking like a small toddler and already had rolls you could hide your cell phone in, but he was perfect.  There is nothing in the world like a brand new baby, and no joy you can compare it to.  And here we are, 4 years, 8 days, and 4 hours later with a handsome and charismatic little preschooler.  His rolls are gone, but he still can find places to hide our cell phones.  And he is still, and always will be, perfect.

I know that maybe this isn't the word most doctors would use to describe Owen.  My first unofficial medical publication entitled "The Idiot's Guide to Owen" outlines some of the reasons why, though the list seems to grow almost daily.  In fact, here is a recent diagram of Owen's anatomy: 


Ok ok, I lied - it's just a fingerpainting my daughter did. But if I could see inside Owen's system, I'll bet it looks a lot like that painting does.  But you know what?  He is still perfect.  He is every bit as perfect as any child could possibly be, and no amount of flattened tracheas, food aversions, or vascular anomolies will change that.  He is exactly who he was born to be and he shows me each and every day why we are the luckiest people on earth to have been given such a beautiful and yes, perfect, child.  It's been a challenging, yet wonderful 4 years.  This post may be 8 days and 4 hours late, but I hope when he turns 18 and reads this he won't hold that against me.  After all, I also posted pictures of him in diapers so he'll have better things to complain about anyway.

I love you, Big O, Happy Birthday!