Two years ago today, my first son was born. He was a healthy (that’s putting it nicely) nine pounds two ounces and 19 inches long. No amount of drugs could stop that from being painful. My husband cut the cord and I could hear the nurses using that sucker thingy to get all the gunk out of his nasal passage and throat, but I didn’t hear him crying. I heard some noises, but not a hearty cry like I had heard with my daughter. I was getting a little anxious. Exhausted, I lazily, but nervously asked how he was doing and they handed him to me lightly wrapped in a sheet for a brief moment. He was beautiful and totally content.
They took him and washed him up and that’s when he decided to squeal. They were relatively quick, yet thorough and he was back in my arms, squeaky clean, and silent once again. I tried to get him to feed, but he had no interest at that point. I lifted him from my chest very briefly just so I could get myself adjusted a bit more comfortably and he started crying, but as soon as he was laying on my chest he quieted and fell back asleep. Needless to say, I was completely in love.
It has been a crazy two years, I got pregnant with my third child (second son) when he was just six months old, so sadly I feel like I missed nearly an entire year of his life because I was extremely depressed during the entire pregnancy (that’s another blog for another time), but I do remember long cuddles with my boy, story times, and nap times with him.
He is still learning to speak, but he says please and thank you (yeah, proud mamma right here) and he shares nearly everything with his older sister and baby brother. He still cuddles with me when he’s not busy making messes and getting dirty and he tells me “Lub you Mommy” all the time.
I love my son so very much and I can’t wait to have a fun filled day of Ninja Turtle celebration!