This is Nolan, out “firstborn son.” Officially, he’s our nephew. But to us, he’s our firstborn son. The one who started it all. We probably wouldn’t be parents if it weren’t for Nolan. We fell in love with each other, then we fell in love with Nolan. We were sort of clueless about babies, especially Jamie. When she was getting ready to bring Nolan home from the hospital after he had been born, she asked the doctor if she should just feed Nolan mashed potatoes, applesauce and other mushy food. For some reason, the hospital allowed her to take him home anyway, a perfect little baby with a stitched up gash across his cheek from an errant scalpel during an emergency C-section. That was over four years ago. Now he has a “girlfriend” in his preschool class and stands in the backyard directing me while I mow the lawn. Our firstborn son.