31 Day Blogging Challenge Day 17: What is Your Most Proud Moment

I have a few moments in my life that I’m proud of, but there are only a couple that can compete for the title of proudest.  I was pretty proud when Sarah said she would marry me, and then pretty proud when she DID marry me, but the moment I’m most proud of, the moment that stands above all others is the when Logan was born.

I know that it may sound cliche to say that the moment when your first kid is born is the proudest, most special moment of your life, but it’s one of those cliche’s that needs to be cliche because of how important of a moment it is.

By the time Logan was born, Sarah and I had been at the hospital more than three full days, and we were sure that he was going to be a girl, because we thought that the original OB had accidentally let it slip to us two or three months earlier.  So when the doctor doing the C-Section said “it’s a boy,” we were both stunned.  We had chosen not to find out because we wanted it to be a surprise, and by using the female pronoun, the original doctor had set us up for a massive surprise, and we couldn’t have been happier.

I was near Sarah’s head, and Logan was brought over to a table to clean him off (where he pooped on the table—giving a mini proud moment) I could see him, and they asked me if I wanted to come see him while they weighed him.  I took a picture with my phone, in which he looks like a little gorilla, but within a few minutes he started to look like the Logan I have now.

Then after a couple of minutes, they took Logan and me to the nursery, where he lay under an incubation light, and they did the different measurements and shots and things, while Sarah was sewn back up and rested.  Logan and I sat for nearly two hours in that incubation room, and other than my wanting the three of us to be together, the thing that I remember most about sitting there was how tight Logan squeezed my finger, and thinking that all of the people walking by seeing me smiling must have thought I looked like an idiot, but I didn’t care.

Also, I should mention, that having had that experience, and the rush that comes with it, I somewhat understand when someone has a bunch of kids.  It is a high that I think could easily become addicting (plus the act of getting there should be a lot of fun too).

Anyway, I know it probably sounds cheesy, but there isn’t really anything that can compete with that feeling.  For any parents reading this, you know what I mean.

What is your proudest moment?  Let me know in the comments below.

(I am not including the first picture, because that is really only for Sarah and me!)

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