For the most part, my memory is pretty shoddy. On most days if you ask me what I had for lunch the day prior, I’d probably struggle to remember any details.

But some days are just so special, so life marking that even old, worn brains like mine are emblazoned with vivid detail.

One of those days in my life was Feb. 14, 2013, when my wife Julie gave birth to our daughter.

Another such day was Thursday. Despite a night of virtually no sleep, the details of Thursday morning are now part of my permanent memory bank.

In some ways Thursday was a day of déjà vu of our daughter’s birth.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were greeted by some of very same faces that marked the events nearly four years ago.

Even the day of the week was the same —Thursday.

As they ushered Julie and me to a room, nurse Noelle Speed greeted us, just like she did back in 2013.

Other familiar faces appeared at times, before Dr. Frank Guedon made an appearance into the room, just like in 2013, his booming voice and laugh preceded only by his penchant for whistling, which always gives people a warning that the miraculous moment is about to happen.

Then, at 10:13 a.m. on Dec. 1, James Willis Cooper became one of the newest Natchezians at Merit Health Natchez.

While the process seemed slightly less unfamiliar than when our daughter Anna was born, the weight of the situation was equally as humbling and awe-inspiring at the same time.

As a Christian, the birth of a child is an amazing gift from God. All we had prayed for prior to the birth was simply that the baby — we didn’t care what the gender was — would be healthy, if that was in God’s plan.

Before becoming a parent, I never truly understood when others tried to describe the love you have for a child. I learned quickly just how fast you become attached to children, moments after Anna was born in 2013.

I didn’t know exactly how that parental love could be shared between more than one child, but moments after James’ birth Thursday, I began to understand a bit more.

You see I had it all wrong. Parental love isn’t divided between children; it expands with the addition of a child.

Aside from the sheer wonder that the process of a human birth evokes in my mind, the most amazingly gratifying part of Thursday was what happened afterward, when James’ big sister first saw him.

She’s been a bit of a bundle of nerves for weeks and weeks. At nearly 4 years old, she was already crazy about babies before we told her a brother was on the way. Like many girls her age, she’s into baby dolls. Her new brother was in her small eyes the coolest baby doll ever.

I’ll never forget the look in her big eyes when she first laid eyes on her brother — utter awe.

We were unsure what Anna’s initial reaction would be, but we quickly realized big sister was a huge fan of little brother. That initial infatuation lasted exactly two days. As we prepared to leave the hospital Saturday and head home, little James began loudly squalling.

Anna, who had been bouncing off the walls with excitement over the thought of taking her brother home turned to my mother, her grandmother, and said, “Turn him off!”

We all laughed, mostly at the notion of just how much Anna is going to learn about real babies soon.

As with Anna’s birth, in the darkened hospital room late Thursday night my mind reflected on the day’s events and just how incredibly blessed our family is.

Then my thoughts turned to the greatest blessing God gave each of us — the sacrifice of His own precious Son.

That sacrifice only makes sense when you realize, He loves us all as His children. His love for me and for you is equal to the love He has for Jesus Christ.

That God’s love is so incredibly big that He loves us as His children is incredibly difficult for me to fathom, but it’s made slightly easier in feeling the multiplied love in my own heart for Him and for my growing family.

Kevin Cooper is publisher of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3539 or kevin.cooper@natchezdemocrat.com.