Today we celebrate the seventh birthday of Sheridan Randall Hilliard. And in hindsight, there is a lot to celebrate.
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In late April of 2003, my wife was rushed to Childrens Hospital in Houston because her blood pressure had spiked. After two or three days of close monitoriing, on April 29th, the doctors were forced to perform a C-section, and Sheridan came into the world very, very early.
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He only weighed two pounds, seven ounces...and was the size of a small doll. It's hard to describe just how tiny he was. We were terrified, and for the next ten weeks could do little more than visit him in the hospital, and watch him face one hurdle after another. At first, we were prepared for the worst, but that little stick figure of a baby kept passing test after test as they arrived. And then I noticed the tones of the doctors and nurses changing. They went from supportive and encouraging...to confident.
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Then in mid summer, two and half months after he was born, we brought him home.
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Since then he has grown like a weed. And that little stick figure that was too weak to even make a cry is now a thundering seven year old who we can't get to shut up. If having children is a miracle, then Sheridan is living proof.
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How things have changed. Now it's all about Star Wars, where it used to be all about Wall-E...and before that Cars. He's a brilliant and delightfully goofy kid...who is good natured, and has a generally optimistic view on things. He made it.
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So this is a birthday we truly celebrate.
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