Five years ago tonight, Nathaniel was born.

Sarah had awakened me at five o’clock that morning. I had been up late the night before, assembling the crib, and I thought she was joking when she said it was time. I was not amused. But I quickly figured out that she was serious.

It was a long day. I took a few naps on the chair in her hospital room.

Nate arrived during the night shift change, so we had double the usual number of nurses on hand. The room was a flurry of activity. They bathed him, weighed him, squirted antibiotics into his eyes, and before we knew it, whisked him off to the nursery.

Suddenly we were alone. Sarah looked at me, and laughed. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re tired.”

I looked at the birth certificate. 11:11 PM.

Happy birthday, child. I love you.

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