Some thoughts that started this all....

I wanted to add some of the original letter that I wrote to you in order to add context. This was the very beginning, probably around the end of July 2010, right before you were born:

I’ve been trying to start this letter for awhile, but most of it has simply been random banter that is in my head. I just wanted to tell you some things before you were born, let you know impressions and thoughts that I have been having and maybe to reassure myself as well. Currently I am in Asheville, North Carolina. It would be funny if we ever moved back here and that sentence was nothing but mashed potatoes at dinner, but as of now it feels foreign. I’m sure you have heard this story so many times its mundane, but let me deposit some recent memories while they are still viable.

            This was supposed to be a six day trip, but after the festivities of the family reunion subsided I woke up at four thirty in the morning on Sunday July 11^th bleeding. That is a surreal feeling, because there is only a second difference between the ordinary and the extraordinary, and most of the time your mind and body are left behind as the situation unfolds. I sat there for a moment and said from the toilet, “Bryan I am bleeding we need to get to the hospital.”  Ha, isn’t that great the sentence that heralded your birth was hastily shouted from a toilet.

            Do you know this about your father, that he nearly faints at the sight of blood? Before I knew that I was pregnant I volunteered myself to give blood at a Red Cross Blood Drive, however as soon as it was confirmed that you were a growing lima bean wedged in my uterus I volunteered your dad to take my place. He wearily accepted the assignment. The poor man. All I could do was watch from side-lines as he lay on the gurney. They fed him snack after snack, made him try mild calisthenics. I know he didn’t like it but he did it anyway, because that’s the way he is. (Something I love about your father.)

 I should have known that your father would not take well to the sight of my blood. Have I told you that he promptly awoke with incoherent muttering and then fell back on the bed as if asleep? And that he was so shaky that he had to sit on a stool in order to pronounce a blessing of health with his hands weakly placed on my head. And this is my favorite, that all the while as your great uncle drove through red lights and miles above the speed limit, your father (bless his heart) made joke after inappropriate joke. I learned that evening that Bryan will often times use misplaced humor to remedy a stressful situation; however, you should note this does not work very effectively.