Her Story

As I look into your eyes, I begin to cry. Not because I'm sad or mad, but because you survived and made me a dad. And this journey to get here was everything but smooth and perfect, but the rocky, rough roads mom and I had to travel were all worth it.

The doctor told mom it was high risk that you would not make it. I watched mom take pill after pill because it increased your chance to live. Therefore, when handed to her, she would always take it.

I will never forget the day mom went into labor. Her water broke, and the doctors rushed into our room. To comfort mom, I put on her favorite tunes.

She pulled me aside and told me to promise her that if it came down to her life or yours, I would save her baby, no ifs, ands, or maybes.

Mom pushed and pushed, and I watched her lose so much energy and blood. But she was determined to see you in the flesh and give you her love.

Finally, you were here in the flesh, and mom survived. The doctors grabbed mom and immediately began to soothe her.

When she finally got to hold you, she touched your hands and legs - so soft and perfect. Mom sat there in awe and just watched you move.

The doctors came and asked what we would like to name you. Mom turned around and said, "Her name is Smooth."

She held you close to her face and watched you smile as her favorite tunes played in the background.

She promised that your journey to get here would never have to be experienced again. She vowed that your journey is not your story and that your name, Smooth, is your story. Your life will forever be that, my baby, my Smooth.