My firstborn child came to us with half of a heart, suffering from a condition known as hypoplastic right heart syndrome. Through the course of the first six months of his life, we spent countless hours in the hospital, running tests, and carrying about a wired baby--plugged into his oxygen, his pulseoxymeter, or both. He nearly slid away from us on a couple of different occasions during those early months. He was born on an auspicious week, as it were. I had finished my student teaching a month or so before and had lost my potential career by this point. Despite that, I had finished college, and commencement ceremonies were to be held the last full week of April 2007. Also, my birthday was coming, and I love my birthday. I just like having the attention, I think. So, on 25 April, two days after Shakespeare's (alleged) birthday, my little boy Peter was born. I didn't get to hold him until the next day, my own birthday. The day after that, I was sitting in the McKay Events ...
Personal musings of Steven Dowdle