Our little firecracker

The Fourth of July always has ranked high on my holiday list. It's right up there with Christmas as one of my favorites. As a kid, we spent the Fourth with my grandma and grandpa on Crystal Lake in beautiful, Beulah, Mich. When we were really little, all the uncles, aunts and cousins would come up, too. And we'd cram into the little cottage, even sleeping in the attic to make room for all.

But nine years ago, Independence Day took on a new meaning for our family.

Now, we also call it Carter's Independence Day.

On June 3, 2001, when our boy pushed his way into this world, he came early. He wasn't due until Aug. 11.

At the time, we lived in Muskegon. I woke up in the middle of the night with contractions and stumbled into the emergency room at Hackley Hospital, but I wouldn't stay long. I wasn't new at this. I was in the hospital the week before with similar symptoms, and I understood the gravity of my situation.

The doctor at Hackley attempted to stop my labor with drugs, but it did not work as hoped. So I traveled by ambulance to Grand Rapids and was admitted to Spectrum Butterworth. The hope was that they would stop my labor and I would stay in the hospital for several weeks until it was safe for our baby to be delivered.

Carter had other ideas. He was born at 11:39 p.m. at 3 pounds, 12 ounces.

He spent the next 31 days in the hospital — eight of those in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit hooked to different beeping machines. At one point, he needed an IV put into his forehead. He had blown out IV lines in both feet and arms with all his motion.

We were lucky. His health was good. But he needed to grow before we could take him home.

While he was in the hospital, Todd and I lived at the Ronald McDonald House in Grand Rapids so we could be close to Carter. I spent all day, every day at the hospital with him. My husband went in the morning to hold him before work and then as soon as he got out. We were at the hospital every night until 10 p.m.

In his first weeks, he lived in the incubator. We held him some, but he was fighting jaundice and needed to stay under the lights. We read to him, talked to him, changed his diapers, fed him. But mostly, we waited to take him home.

Finally, he was big enough. He could hold his body temperature and feed from a bottle. At 5 pounds exactly, he was ready to go home.

It was July 4, 2001.

It seemed fitting he would be released on Independence Day.

Oh yes, Independence Day fits him well. He showed us on the day he was born, he was doing things his way. It's a creed he still lives by today.

Seeing him now, you would not know Carter entered the world so petite. Our kid is one of the tallest in his class and one of the busiest, too. And befitting someone set loose on Independence Day, he's got a heart in which I think our forefathers would be proud. He loves the land and cares about our Earth. He goes on self-organized litter pickups, worries about pollution and cares deeply about all our world's animals.

Since Carter entered the world, not a day goes by we don't have fireworks in our home. Sometimes they are the kind that make you want to cover your ears and duck. But most of the time, they are the kind that make you "ooh" and "ahh." The kind that make you give thanks you are there for the show.