Eight years ago tonight, I held my hopes, dreams and future in my very tired arms. But I didn't sleep. Not for hours. I just held my newborn son, Robert Connor Quinn, and felt a peace and joy that I couldn't even imagine 24 hours earlier.
Kelly and I had tried for 3 years to have a baby. When we finally stopped trying and started trusting God's timing, He blessed us with this boy. This amazing, beautiful boy. The firstborn is unlike any other child. Not your favorite, of course not. But there is no feeling like holding your first baby. Watching his first step. Hearing his first words. Seeing his first wide-eyed wonders. It's like holding your heart in your hands.
I can't believe he is 8 today. He is ornery, feisty, sarcastic, challenging. He is also loving, curious, cuddly, sensitive. Growing and changing everyday, and in way too much of a hurry to do so. But he is also desperate to stay a little boy close to Mama's side. I watch him and see some of my best qualities in him. And also some of my worst. I look at him and see his father, and my father. So many amazing things rolled into one irreplaceable child, who I know the Lord has such a special plan for.
Happy birthday, my love, my boy, my firstborn.
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