Raising A Hero

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes." 

~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.~

Friday, April 8th, 2011 will undoubtedly be one day out of many that I will never, ever forget. 


This wonderful day ranks up there with the afternoon when The Hubster asked me to be his wife with only the polar bears as witnesses, the day we stood up in front of our family and closest friends to pledge our lives to each other, the day we signed the documents that would make us "real, responsible adults" and homeowners, and the day we discovered we would be adding the title "parent" to the many titles we already possessed.


The sun was shining, a rarity of late for those of us here in the Pacific Northwest. Although the glow of the sun added little warmth to the crisp day it's energy charged us, boosting our spirits, quickening our steps and hearts, and making the day feel even more magical. As we walked hand in hand across the parking lot I knew we would be changed when we later emerged from the building to retrace our steps.


Something wonderful was about to happen.


With thumping hearts we sat waiting in the radiology department, excited and nervous for what was to come. They called my name and we bolted out of our seats. We followed the woman in the long white coat back into a warm and dimly lit room, knowing she would be the one to deliver to us the news we were so eager to discover.


I hopped up onto the table (as much as a pregnant woman can hop). She smeared warm gel over my belly, and with the touch of a wand our child's image flooded the screen.


Hands, head, eyes, feet, legs, there was so much to see! We saw a healthy heart beating strongly, all four chambers pumping away. Two distinct hemispheres of a brain. The spine and all the tiny vertebrae.


We witnessed our baby kicking and flailing teeny tiny arms, the opening and closing of a perfect little mouth, and doing everything possible to get away from that annoying ultrasound wand that surely disrupted a nap that was in progress.


But most of all...


We saw that we will have a son.


A son. I will have a little boy that will call me mom. I will be his mama. I am his mama. The Hubster is his daddy, and I can't even begin to tell you how that makes my heart grow knowing that our little baby will look up to his father and see all the wonderful things that I see.


He'll see the things that made me fall in love with him and want to have his child.
He'll know he can depend on his daddy to be there for him no matter what.
He'll know his daddy's soft spots and when to play to them.
He'll know his daddy's pride in having a son as his first child.


But, most of all, he will be loved so, so much.


Actually, he already is.