Happy Birthday David!

The big 6 years old! When the swaddling photo to the right was taken a day after he was born, I couldn't have imagined the vibrant personality that would emerge with time. David is like no other. I showed him the Burrito Boy photo this morning before school and he started laughing.

The memory of getting the 8:30pm call on November 13, 2001 is still clear; his birth was expected in a matter of hours. There was one false alarm a couple weeks prior, and it wasn't until Sherry and I arrived at the hospital that we discovered he was not coming yet. But this time appeared to be legit; we packed our bags and hopped in the TOM8TO minivan for our drive to Portland OR. The conditions were icky and especially sketchy on OEM tires. We shared the driving duties, and stopped maybe a couple times. We got to Providence St. Vincent Hospital in Washington County between midnight and 1am to begin the wait.

That wait wasn't too long. Sherry and I were in the room when David was born at 4:30am. Initially the doctor was going to use a suction cup on his head to pull him out, but then he decided to come out on his own. He didn't cry. Sherry was the first to hold him, even before the birth parents; she also cut his cord (ask her about that sometime). I was amazed at the spectacle of birth. And to have the birth mom allow us in the room was truly a gift.

After he was born, we went to our hotel to sleep and get cleaned up. We went back to the hospital mid morning to visit with David and the birth family, and started taking pictures. A Lutheran minister - who had befriended the birth family during tough times - baptized David at the hospital and prayed for us and for the birth family. I guess that technically makes David a Lutheran!

The next day he was handed over to us in the hallway outside the birth mom's room. She was crying, and the birth father was trying his hardest to keep the "tough" demeanor he was known for. The adoption counselor led them down the hall and away for a ride to their home. From that point until adoption, we were considered David's foster parents. Plus we were required to stay in Oregon until an interstate compact could be signed, which would allow us to cross the Columbia River and head home to Bellevue. That ultimately wouldn't arrive for a few days. Sherry and I walked out into the world with a day-old infant and did what any newbie parents would do; we went to Red Robin.

The server asked how old David was. "Two weeks?" One day old, Sherry told her. "Wow, you look so good," she said while looking at Sherry's stomach. We still laugh about it, because it wasn't the only time someone said that to us in the early days. Once back at the hotel, we put David on the bed and looked at each other. Now what do we do? As one of my coworkers put it, "...ain't none of us get that hand book with step by step instructions." We just tried to figure out what he needed and when he should eat. The next day my parents picked up Sherry's Mom and drove down to Portland for a visit...on their own birthday (November 16th).

On Saturday November 17th, while getting new tires for the TOM8TO in Hillsboro (yay, no sales tax), we got the call that said we could head home. Since we had already planned a trip out to Tillamook OR to visit the cheese factory, we decided to leave the next morning. Sherry and I found out quickly on the way back to the hotel that David didn't like music from the band "Boston." He would gripe when the tape was in, and quiet down when we took it out. "I don't blame him," Sherry confided.

As I think back, it's hard to think this occurred six years ago. The story would repeat itself to a degree three years later when Jack was born, but that tale is for another posting.

Happy Birthday Super Dave!