Timmy's birthday is in exactly 10 days. He will be 18 then. Today was a sort of interesting day in my mind. You see, Timmy was born 10 days before Tim's 18th birthday. So, today marks the day that our first son is the same age as his dad was when we had him. That was a tongue twister, huh? I asked Timmy how he felt today. At first he said fine. Then he told me he knew what I was going to say. He had told one of his friends earlier today that his birthday was in 10 days. He said when he said it... he instantly remembered hearing over the years that he was born 10 days before his dad's 18th birthday. He said it was sort of odd realizing that was how young his dad was when we had him. I don't think I have completely shared the story of Timmy on my blog. Some people know the real story, but many more just assume they know the story. When most people find out we have an almost 18 year old son, they almost always say I look too young to have a child that age. Sometimes I just smile and say something like we started young. Sometimes I tell them more. It just depends. The real story is we did start young. Obviously. There is really more to it though. I met Tim when I was 14 and he was 15. He lived with his grandma. I didn't really know why for about the first 3 months. I didn't even know he had siblings. One day his brother called. I asked who he was talking to and he said his brother. Ummm... I decided that maybe there was something more I needed to know. He went on to tell me that he had one brother and 3 sisters. He then told me about all the pain and sadness he had with his parents and how he moved out to live with his grandma. It was hard. It was sad. It was his reality. Over the next 2 years, I became his family. My family became his family. I absolutely fell in love with him and he with me. One day he asked me to make a family with him. Now, this is a family blog, so there will be no details! He was serious. I felt his need for his own family. I loved him and wanted nothing more than to help heal some part of him. Of course, I was scared. I am a logical person. I always was logical. I was the 5 year old weighing the pros and cons of playing on the monkey bars, etc. I have always analyzed everything. Something would happen when I looked into his eyes. I could push all the logic aside and get lost. I still do that sometimes when I look in his eyes. I jumped and grabbed his hand to see where it would lead us. Before I knew it, we were expecting. This boy of 17 took me to every single doctor's appointment, went to Lamaze, took expectant parent classes at the clinic, and even took a required C-section class. When my labor came, he was right there with me for 36 hours of it. When it was time to go off to the delivery room (yes, back then you went to a sterile delivery room) the nurses weren't going to let him go because he was too young. My mom - who worked at the hospital - about tore the nurses apart. She informed him that he had done EVERYTHING and more than the average older father would do. They let him go and he held my hand. He was there. He has always been there. I know we are unique. I know most stories of high school pregnancies don't end up our way. I knew lots of girls that had babies and none of them stayed together. We have always told Timmy we were not the norm. We have always told him that he shouldn't look to our past and think that makes sense. It probably doesn't make any sense, but God must have had a plan for us. I just can't seem to get a grasp on how quickly it all has gone by. I guess I will just take it all in and be glad that I looked into his eyes and took that leap of faith.
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