My heartbeats.

No matter what age, the boys and the girl love to hear the stories of the moment they were born. They are all completely at ease with that part of our life cycle. I'm assuming it's because there are so many of them, that they each have a memory of a sibling being born. Except Brooklyn of course, but she has experienced close friends having babies.

This is the first time Alex has really been intrigued by the details of his "marching day", as he calls his March birthday.

He asked, "What was the first thing I did when I came out? Did I relax? Did you put a diaper on me? Did I get a bath?"

I said, "No, you laid on my chest and looked at me while I looked at you." I proceeded to explain the process of breastfeeding a newborn baby and the special ingredients that are passed from mommy to baby to prevent them from getting sick. I told him how he loved to be swaddled by his father and then held tightly next to my heart.

He said, "Mom, does your heart sound like this?" He kicked his feet in a rhythm against the couch.

And then Alex started to cry very soft, quiet tears. I asked him why he was crying, and he said, "I don't know. I guess I remember being a baby and being happy to hear your heart."

What a sweet kid. He can by my favorite today.