Lynn Howard

We are getting ready to celebrate Ethan's 3rd birthday tomorrow. He is getting a Tonka dump truck and a foam puzzle to put together on the floor. Three years ago about this time (7:40 pm eastern time) on this date 10/23/08, I was watching TV. It was a Thursday night. My husband had made a big pot of spaghetti for supper and it smelled so good. I had fallen asleep during Wheel of Fortune and when I awoke Jeopardy was on. I was waiting for Survivor to come on at 8 pm. My daughter, Christa, then 3 years old, was sitting on the couch behind my knees. When I got up to get some spaghetti, my water broke. What a surprise. I told my husband to turn the stove off and let's get to the hospital. He thought I was kidding. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. At 2:25 am the next morning on 10/24/08 early Friday morning, Ethan made his entrance into to world via emergency c-section. I didn't see him but was praying for him. The doctor came back after a while and told me that he had a tube in him and that he was struggling like we thought he would be. My husband watched through a door as they struggled to intubate him. My siser and Daddy sat outside waiting to hear any news. They told me that Ethan was wheeled past in an incubator and the nurses stopped for a moment so they could look at him. She called my twin sister, who had picked my daughter up at the hospital and took her home, and told her that he was alive. I finally saw him the next day at about 12 pm before they transported him to Atlanta. We were in Macon. He was so small and fragile looking. I touched his hand and it was as soft as butter. His premature skin was so frangile. I asked my husband to please go with him. He said he would but he went home and brought me some clothes first. Then he left. I stayed at the hospital in Macon for two more days. Five of my friends from work came over the next two days to visit. I called my Daddy to pick me up on Sunday; the doctor said I could go. I couldn't wait to go see our beautiful little son. It would be a few more days as I ended up with an epidural headache Sunday night. I thought my head would explode. The doctor's office said it should subside in about a week. I told them I didn't have a week and to please do something; I wanted to see my son. After another agonizing day of the headache, I had a bloodpatch done to seal up the hole left by the epidural. It's an easy procedure. They draw blood from your arm and inject it in the epidural site to form a clot. Only they wanted me to lie on my stomach to do it. The pain was excrutiating. My head was exploding and the c-section site was throbbing. The doctor said I could stay on my side. When we were through I told the doctor I was leaving for Atlanta. He said no. Better wait one more day. You don't want the clot to come loose. My Daddy took me back to his house to spend the night and the next day we went to Atlanta. It was a bumpy, exhausting ride but well worth it when I saw my little baby boy again. I cried and told him, "I love you." And the rest is history.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Ethan! I love you always. God bless you today and always.