Baby b. turned one on Saturday. We celebrated with a trip to the children’s museum and messy cupcakes.
I cannot believe he’s already one. It seems like just a couple of weeks ago I was as big as a house, waddling around our house trying to imagine myself as the Mother of three boys. The day he was born, I woke up early and knew—today’s the day. (I’ll spare you all the details of how, exactly, I knew!)
As I labored quietly all day, I played game after game of UNO with the noisy boys. I was excited, scared, and a little bit sad. After all, it wouldn’t just be the three of us anymore, and I didn’t know how it would all work. As we played games, I tried to fill them up with enough of me to last the few days I’d be gone, and tried not the think of the millions of things that can go wrong in childbirth.
We invited my husband’s parents over for dinner, since I knew that at some point, we’d need to leave. I made dinner at 5 o’clock, then went upstairs to lie down. I didn’t know if it was time to go to the hospital or not. I didn’t want to go too early, since I was doing a VBAC. I prayed to know the right timing, since I also didn’t want to give birth at home. Shortly after this prayer, my water broke.
Baby b. was born just two hours later. The delivery was so smooth, it kind of freaked us out. When the nurse handed us our boy and said, “Have a good night,” we just stared at eachother in disbelief. That’s it? And now we have a baby? And you’re actually leaving him here with us? We were on cloud nine.
And in some ways, we still are. Baby b. is a gift from God. He is the happiest baby I have ever met, and fits into our family beautifully. I cannot image life without him.
Happy birthday, littlest one! You are a joy.