Still pregnant here, with my two year old on my “lap”.
9 years ago, I was frustrated, hot (the house had almost no windows), scared, and really just ready to have a baby. I was sure that I was going to wake up and once again find that I was not in labor.
About 8 months pregnant…
I was also a combo of sad and terrified as I had learned a friend of mine had lost her baby that day. This pregnancy had been one of the hardest of the four and I just had all these feelings rush to the surface.
However, I had the sense to let my midwife know that something was off that night, even though I knew I could be wrong.
Is it weird that it was my most peaceful labor? There was no reason it should have been. My husband was not beside me, so I clutched his shirt to pretend he was there and later wore it. My sister, whom I desperately wanted to be there, was 4 hours away (although she made it back in 3 something hours, I never want to know how, thank you, God for protecting her).
My midwife made it in plenty of time and was sleeping in the next room.
She was in training, but was also my mom, and completing her last births to be certified. I sacrificed privacy to help her with that as I had no money with to pay her.
One of my best friends was there to care for my children and when my sister made it, I was relaxing in the bathtub.
It was the first birth that I felt like I was in control of, even with all the out of control things going on around me, My youngest son came into the world at 8:08 am. I had my support team there, I knew that I could do this, even if I didn’t want to. I remember those last moments of pregnancy and thinking “I am going to see my baby, but I need to wait until I can’t anymore.”
He was 8 lbs. 3 oz. 21 in. long.
My wonderful coach helping weigh the baby. She was in nursing school at the time!
Another sister, helped wrap him up for the first time.
He was very red! So red, it worried me for a bit!
All four of my boys, together!
1 month old!
In his Papa’s arms…his favorite place to be! (Well, when he was not hungry!)
“You ready to duke it out? I am!”
Now, he is 9 year old! He loves babies himself….always ready and willing to lend a hand, play with them and usually still bright and cheerful.
The other day though, his brother was displaying a scratch he had inflicted upon him. My sister said “T, I thought you were done with that.”
He sighed and said “You know, I thought I was too.” He shook his head sadly.
Playing with his cousin
Even when school is not his favorite, he has a smile for us!
I like to celebrate my little guy, whom is not so little anymore. I would also love to remember the playmate he didn’t get to meet here on earth, Tucker Dole, whom I can never pass this day by without remembering.
Happy birthday to you both!