One of my nieces and her husband just had a beautiful baby boy. I am so proud of the life they are living and the new family they are creating. I can’t wait to get my hands on him! This sweet new addition to our family sent me on a stroll down memory lane, thinking about the births of my three children.
I always wanted to have children. Women glowingly remarking how much they just loved being pregnant, it was such a magical time, and those 9 months were the best ever. Hogwash! I very much disliked being pregnant. I was put on bedrest twice with my first one, once with my second, and had an emergency surgery at the end of my second trimester with the third so that was practically another bedrest. Swollen feet. Swollen ankles. Relentless back pain. Insulin shots. Morning sickness. It was less “glowing” and more “surviving”. But after hours of labor and pain, the beauty of it all finally arrives!
My #1 – the daughter – Allison. She was a handful. She especially liked watermelon and McDonald’s hot fudge sundaes. She was exactly a week early and arrived on THE hottest day of the year with the mercury tipping at 100 degrees. Roughly 14 hours of labor and with no epidural or any drugs (yeah, I was crazy like that) I gave birth to a…wait a minute…that’s not a baby – that’s a Cabbage Patch doll! She was 10# and 22 inches long and had a head of thick black hair that would make a bald man jealous. Where’s my little baby? Don’t get me wrong. I LOVED her and while the happy tears were flowing down my face all I could think of was I got robbed on the tiny infant experience.
My #2 – the son – Bryce. Oh this one…he was a handful. He was the King of Back Pain and his love of whole wheat bagels and Snickers candy bars led to a pregnancy of insulin shots. His debut came after 22 hours of labor. Funny story – that morning my doctor was at a conference an hour away. I was assured he would be back in time for the delivery. Mother Nature thought it would be an awesome day to have a huge snowstorm and leave people stranded. I had decided that I did not need an epidural so the anesthesiologist signed off and was going to go home. But, wait – as any female is allowed, especially a pregnant one – I changed my mind. Needless to say, getting the epidural in became a bit of a team sport…and I was pushing before my doctor even made it into the room. That wonderful cry – 10 fingers and 10 toes and…I got my tiny infant experience! He was 8# and 20.5 inches long….and a screamer. I guess he wasn’t too happy that he lost that secluded space in my back to punch every day.
My #3 – the son – Brady. He was a bit of a surprise – yes, I am fully aware of how these things happen, but it was a surprise. Two weeks prior to finding out, I had a garage sale and sold all of my baby items. ALL! The morning I found out I called my sister and sat on the kitchen floor crying – what was I going to do? Well, Molly, you are going to have a third child – that’s what you are going to do. This one had a passion for meatball subs, any time day or night. Since I had sold everything, it was decided to learn the gender. Good thing I did because there was going to be a very unhappy big sister. She wanted a baby sister in the worst way. I mean…get out of her way, “Give me that baby sister!” kind of vibe. One afternoon I took her into the bedroom and told her we needed to talk. First of all, I am delusional because I honestly believe I will be able to have a reasonable conversation with a 4 year old. I tell her that God has decided that our family needed another son and that she will be having another baby brother. Cue the defiant stare, crossing of the arms, and the wailing of NO! I tried to explain to her that I can’t change what is inside of me and it is going to be a boy. With tears streaming down her face, she tells me that I do NOT love her the way Aunt M loves E because she gave E a baby sister. Yes, ladies and gentlemen…my sister had 2 daughters; therefore, Allison was claiming that my sister loved her first daughter more than I loved Allison because she gave her a baby sister. Honestly, I can’t make this up. I was being labeled an unloving mother because I was not going to produce a baby sister. What was I supposed to do? Nothing. Brady made his entrance via a scheduled C-section, but not before a Code Blue had to be called because I went into respiratory arrest (see – pregnancy bad!). So what was #3 going to be: Cabbage Patch doll or tiny infant experience…Cabbage Patch Doll at 9# 15 ounces and 21.5 inches long.
Now my niece gets to begin this same incredible, exhausting, hilarious journey. She will collect her own stories – the sleepless nights, the milestones, the moments she will laugh about twenty years from now. And someday, she will probably be telling her own grandchild that pregnancy was magical…while conveniently forgetting the swollen ankles and back pain. Funny how time has a way of editing our memories. Congratulations to the newest little member of our family. We can’t wait to spoil you.
Until next time,
-Molly