Four

Jake was born four years ago today. We went to the hospital at 9 p.m. September 30, but he held on long enough to be born in the early morning hours of October 1, the same day his great-grandmother was born 87 years earlier.

Late in the evening October 1, I was alone in the hospital room with Jake. He was inconsolable. I was stumped and worried, pacing, alone.

But looking back it seems that night set the tone for my relationship with Jake. He puzzles me. I want so much to hug him and cuddle him and he is the most likely of my kids to push me away. He will be the kid who buys the motorcycle. He will backpack through Europe. He won't call for weeks.

I think he will break my heart.

Despite all that - or maybe because of it - I have a special love for him. He's like the stray dog you so want to love and nurture and he may get really close and seem to trust you, but when you reach out, he flinches. For whatever reason I crave a closeness with that creature.

So Jakey. My sweet, wild, precocious, sensitive, irascible Jakey. You are loved. And no matter how many tantrums you throw, how many meltdowns you have, how much you push me away, my heart and arms will always be open.