Happy Birthday to my Jakers!

Wow. This was most definitely the longest and the shortest year of our lives. On June 5, 2006, we were blessed with Jake's arrival. Actually, on June 5, 2006, Dr. Cleveland helped bless us with Jake's arrival, because I didn't want him born on June 6, 2006. (Otherwise his birthday would have been 6/6/6, which was just...too much for my fragile psyche.) His due date was June 4, and I just couldn't take a chance. Jim thought I was silly, and I knew it was silly, too, but I just couldn't get past the date. I needed to have him before the 6th. Looking back, I thank heavens every day for that silly choice. We've already established that I'm more than a little superstitious. After all, I'm basing hearing the words "NED" on hearing the song "Lola".

When I look at the pictures of Jake's birth, I realize what a pure, wonderful moment that was. We were on the second floor of Aurora Memorial Hospital. The same floor where they later gave us the bad news that Jim had cancer. You know - when you have a baby, and it's a good experience, you think you're the only ones. The only ones to experience that joy. The only ones having a baby at that moment. The only ones on that floor of the hospital. But even in Sheboygan, the hospital is a busy place. When I look at it now, I realize that on that same day, there were people on that same floor getting bad news. Cancer. On the day that we got our bad news, there were babies being born to other happy parents. Right down the hall.

In fact, before we knew what was wrong with Jim, I brought Jake down to the maternity ward so the nurse who helped deliver him could meet him again - at 3 months old. She probably thought I was nuts. But we had such a great birth experience - I just wanted her to know how much it meant to me. To all of us. It was such a perfect day, in fact, that both of my parents were also there. Even my Dad. Dad has a nervous habit of joking at the absolute most inappropriate times, but given that I had Jake without drugs, I think he was just stunned silent - he did manage to get some amazing pictures, though! My Mom was there, as the ultimate comfort, to hold my hand and put cold washcloths on my head. And Jim held my other hand. He rubbed my back. He walked with me. And he coached me through every step of the way. He was my rock. He cut the cord. He was the first to hold Jake. He's quite possibly the Best Daddy Ever.

Jim was diagnosed when Jake was only 3 months old. At the time, we honestly wondered whether or not Jim would even make it to see Jake's first birthday. A silly notion, looking back, but we had no idea what cancer meant. We thought cancer meant it was the beginning of the end. And we didn't know when the end was coming. Of course, we still don't know, but now we have enough nerve to look to the future and plan for things.

And we were just waiting for Jake to arrive. Jake is the perfect addition to our family. At only 3 months, it seemed like he'd been with us forever. He's had finesse and personality since he was an infant. He looks like his Daddy and laughs like his sister. (They both have a laugh that is strikingly similar to that of a nervous Mr. Bean.) He's a complete Ladies Man. And he loves to be funny.

I can't believe a year has come and gone. Although it was one of the worst years of our lives, it was also one of the best years of our lives. We are blessed with two beautiful, healthy children. We are blessed that Jim is able to see Jake develop and grow. We are blessed that Jake has a wonderful big sister to help him navigate the world. We are blessed to have our little family intact, to share important dates, events, and milestones.

When I look back on the last year, there are some things that I wish could have been different. Of course. But there are some things that I will cherish and hold on to forever. Jake's birth and first year were a time of true happiness and tremendous gifts. For every treatment or sickness, there has been a new milestone or small accomplishment. Jake started crawling immediately after Jim's cryoablation surgery. For every pill or pain medication, there's been a toothless, drooling smile. We've been blessed by the two greatest gifts ever. Rachel and Jake are what keep Jim going. They are the light at the end of the cancer tunnel. They are the sunshine in our days and the light of our lives. I thank heavens we had this blessed boy, born on June 5, 2006.