Monday night after work I headed off to the Huntsville Hospital to welcome the arrival of a sweet baby girl into this world.

Miss. Kaytie Rose Wyers is the first baby in my circle of extremely close high school friends to be born.

Thanks to Facebook and plenty of text messaging, I was able to keep up her progress, learning how far along her mother was the the hospital with each glance at my phone. By 6 p.m. the word on Facebook was that it was pushing time so as soon as Ken let me leave I was gone to Huntsville.

My mind ran through a million different things, wondering what the arrival of this little girl would mean to everyone, including her mother and father.

The rain poured down in thick sheets and I drove way under the speed limit to avoid any problems. In the back seat was a backpack full of magazine pages to edit and English books and a nearly completed final college paper.

But a baby changes everything and when those moments happen, it doesn’t matter what deadline you have or what other projects you should be working on. All you know is that you have to go.

I must say, it was my first experience traveling to the labor and delivery wing of a hospital.

I arrived around 7 p.m. and the delivery waiting room was packed with friends and family that I knew, all waiting on the arrival of Kaytie. By 7:59 p.m. Kaytie had entered this world a healthy baby girl and the rest of us waited on pins and needles to see her with our own eyss.

No one told me waiting on a baby was such a long, drawn out process. My mom said not to rush cause “babies take their time, you sure did,” but I didn’t listen to her.

Why is this child so important to me? Well, growing up in that small town of mine, I was friends with Kaytie’s father, Matt and her God Father, Tommy, Matt’s cousin. Thanks to Tommy’s mother, I always had a trip to church on Sundays. And as we all grew older, the three of us bonded like brother and sister. Though I’m not blood related to them, I’m still just as much family.

 So despite any deadline, paper or need for sleep that I might have had Monday night, there was no turning back.

I still haven’t experienced that “unconditional” mother’s love yet, but one look at Kaytie Rose and my heart was set. I’d never known I could love something so tiny and precious, so innocent and sweet, as I did that little girl lying in her hospital crib.

In my head I began thinking of all the books I wanted to buy her and how I wished her father would have to go through that boy band stage with her in the future, the stage he always kidded me about when we were kids.

It’s too early to tell, but I think she’s got her mother Amber’s nose and her daddy’s eyes.

And then there’s that new parent look I finally was able to see, the scared  look one of ,“Oh my, what do I do now?” and the proud one of, “That’s my baby.”

It’s a look you can only capture on camera, which I did for the family.

The journalist in my is never far away, as I spend most of my time in large groups of people observing, watching how they act and react to their surroundings.

The best part of the evening was watching Kaytie’s sweet great-grandmother shed a few tears of excitement herself. By 11 p.m., after waiting for hours on end to see that sweet baby, Kaytie’s great-grandmother sat down in a rocking chair, her hands held out ready to rock the child.

Kaytie let out a big grin, a sure sign that she might just be one of those “happy babies” that I overhear mothers talk about.

It’s defiantly a trip I didn’t want to miss for anything. Not only do I wish her proud parents the best of luck, but I also think what a wonder Christmas gift she is to us all.

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