{when three became four}

Friday, August 10th was a cold and rainy day: by August's standards, anyway. Avram had spent the night at Jason's parents house, and we were getting ready to meet them for breakfast at Cosmo's.

As we were puddling around the house I said to J, "This would be a good day to have a baby. I could have a baby today."

An hour later I was eating two eggs sunny-side up, trying not to let on that I was having contractions every ten minutes.

Two hours later, I was sitting in my doctor's office, five centimeters dilated and contractions coming every seven minutes. "I'll meet you at the hospital," she said. My dad had driven me to the appointment. When we got back in the car, the man couldn't have stopped smiling and giggling if you'd offered him a million bucks.

Dad dropped me off at home and took Avram with him. Jason and I changed our clothes, ran through all our lists one last time, packed our bags in the car. We put our seat belts on and looked at each other. Jason prayed.

By one pm, Jason and I were nervously, giddily staring at each other in the hospital room. We would meet our second son today.

The hours creeped by: through contractions and phone calls from excited family members and joking with the nurses and snacking on lemon Italian ice. I made Jason take meal breaks. I distracted myself with HGTV and some custom-made playlists.

The contractions grew stronger and faster: the nurse said it was time to push.

Three pushes later, and there he was.

August Rhodes was born at 9:58pm, six pounds 15 ounces, 21 inches long. Kicking and crying and limbs flailing everywhere, like a butterfly.

All brand new and all familiar at the same time: meeting him for the first time but feeling like I have known him my whole life.

Jason beamed like Christmas morning as he handed August to me: this wide-eyed, peaceful, glowing bundle of life. He nursed right away: this novel task he faced like a seasoned professional.

There was no anxiety or fear, no tension or concerned voices. Just...peace. Augie slipped right into our lives that Friday night, just like he had always been, like it was exactly where he belonged:

With us.

Our family of four.

picture by the ever-wonderful Betsy King