You F**king Thought!

At precisely 5:03 AM, on October 27th, 1993, my baby brother, Brenden Jörgensen, entered the world, weighing in at 8lbs 3 ounces.

Funny enough, instead of encouraging words that usually accompany the birth of a child, I heard a line from my father's lips that would never be let down in the years to come. 

"Why does he look blue?" My dad said with concern, painting his face and voice while holding the camcorder and getting everything on video.

"Idiot, he's a healthy pink!" the doctor, a stern woman in her late 50s, reprimanded, causing me to chuckle to myself. 

The no-nonsense doctor carefully went to work holding Baby Brenden and allowing my father to cut his umbilical cord before handing him off to the nurses to be cleaned, weighed, and measured. 

There was also a small amount of tests done on him, but I was aware these were standard things done after a baby was born.