This one's a bit long, but I think you'll enjoy the read :)
I could tell the moment I was pregnant. I stood in the shower and said....TJ, I think I'm pregnant, I feel pregnant. Didn't need a test, but you know just for kicks took one and yup I was. We went through a crazy rough pregnancy with Peyton and were a little afraid of jumping on that roller coaster again, but the wheels were in motion and so it began....the little man that would steal my heart.
He came 3.5 weeks
early, felt him stretching in my belly at about 5:30am, must've been a
good one cause he broke my water. I was wide awake with deer eyes
thinking....did he...am I....WHOA, bathroom! Got myself together and
trying NOT to freak my husband out, crept over to his side of the bed
and in a whisper and gentle touch said...."honeyyy, um...I need you to
wake up, my water broke". I'm pretty sure his feet never hit the floor,
because he was dressed before I could say, "but don't rush, I'm sure
it'll be a while". Papa was there in a lickity split from Washington to
watch Peyton and I was sitting in the truck beginning to experience the
contractions and hoping I could get to the hospital in time for an
Too late...As I lay there screaming for an epidural, ready to rip the closest bystander's head off if I could just get close enough, I'm told the anesthesiologist was going to go do a "scheduled C-Section" first and then would come see me. Anyone else see the problem here? I'm in ACTIVE, PAINFUL labor and the Gate-Keeper wants to handle a scheduled C-Section, a woman in absolutely no rush or pain, before me! Lovely.
Every noise began to irritate me to no end. My Step-Dad, John, was in there and talking up a storm with everyone and finally I could hold it in no more. SSHHHHH!!!!!!!!! and the room fell silent. Pretty sure it wasn't from the "shh", but more from the look on my face of: if you don't shut that whole in your face I'm gonna go postal on you.
When the Anesthesiologist FINALLY arrived, I was....well, did you ever see the movie Aliens with Sigourney Weaver from the 80's, she played Ripley? Remember the part where the Mom Alien is standing beside Ripley's face and she very slowly opens her jaws, you see about 45 slimy fangs and as she hisses out comes another smaller set of jaws that creep slowly next to Ripley's face and you know the Alien wants to kill her, but Ripley has something the Alien needs so she doesn't...well I was that Mom Alien and if his slow self didn't stab me with an epidural immediately, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions.
Trying desperately to keep my composure so he didn't feel the need to go even slower, I finally got my shot. Unfortunately it only numbed half my body and Dylan wasn't waiting any longer. It was pushin time.
He was born on August 26, 2007 and came out screaming...and peeing! I
don't mean a little trickle either, we're talking Mach 4 Super Soaker,
get your rain gear peeing!
They laid him on my belly and I swear
there's still pee on the ceiling from that kid. Took him over to the
weigh table...still peeing. Covered him with a blanket for a few
seconds, picked up the blanket for a little peek...nurse is lucky she
still has that eye, still peeing, took him to the nursery and was still
peeing down the hallway. That kid was holding it for 9 months, I can't
hold it for 5 minutes before I start eyeing the bushes. Can't imagine
his relief, poor fella! ....Actually I can, drove from Greenville to
Raleigh for a Brad Paisley concert after a few drinks and an hr & a half, that
port-a-john never looked so good.
And so there he was, my little rag doll. Tiny little thing weighing 6lbs 1oz, not big as a minute.
I'd spend the next few weeks with him glued to my chest. Couldn't put him down and didn't want to. I knew he'd be my last and well, those moments you just can't get back. So what if he got spoiled, so what if I couldn't put him down without him crying for hours on end because he wanted to be held. Didn't care.
Happy Birthday my sweet boy, I am so honored to be your Mom.