Beefy biceps, brawny thighs, you were in a hurry to come into the world, Asher. At 2:20 a.m., your Daddy called Grandpa and me. NSTAR Electric was fixing the wires on our street, so our house had no power. Our regular phones didn’t work, but Grandpa heard a ringing in the distance, the phone in our bathroom that works when the power is out. I ran to answer it. “Are you ready? Her contractions are two minutes apart!” Your Dad exclaimed. Grandpa and I stumbled around in the darkness, searching for shoes that matched, underwear, jeans and sweatshirts. Downstairs, I grabbed my purse and cell. Luckily, we had left a car in the driveway and didn’t have to deal with the automatic garage door that surely wouldn’t have opened automatically.
At your house, your Mommy was saying: “Maybe this is false labor and I should sit on the sofa for awhile.” But the way she was doubled over in pain and knowing that a week earlier at her obstetrician’s appointment, her doctor had announced: “This baby is coming any day…” I was certain that we should drive immediately to the hospital. Grandpa stayed at your house with your big brother, Simon, who was sleeping in his crib. On the way into Boston, your Daddy was proceeding cautiously through yellow and red lights, and I was sitting behind your Mommy, rubbing her neck and shoulders. “Maybe they will send me home, and insist we’re too early.” Your Mommy wondered. I pointed out that if Brigham and Women’s wouldn't take us, we’d go down the street to another hospital. Your Daddy calmly explained that with him and your Grandma along, we were definitely staying at the hospital because you were ready to be born.
When we arrived at 2:40 a.m., they brought us to a labor room where the nurse on duty confirmed that you were coming very quickly. Before 4:00 a.m., you emerged to bright lights, beeping monitors, and the voices of three people who were thrilled to meet you. Your Mommy and Daddy’s eyes were misty with tears. Your Daddy told me that he and I make a good support team; I told him that I felt honored to be at your birth. I fumbled for a camera to take your first photos. Later when I held you in my arms, your skin was incredibly soft and you smelled completely fresh and new. The soles of your feet felt like velvet. They hadn't walked anywhere yet! You weighed eight pounds and fifteen ounces, Asher Miles Baron.
The phone and e-mail messages haven’t stopped because you have so many family members and friends who want to welcome you. Uncle Aron just traveled from New York on the train, and Mom Mom and Pop Pop Baron are driving up from Pennsylvania. You are surrounded with lots of love.
