Nine years ago today I accepted the hardest, yet most rewarding job I have ever done.
I frequently remind The Hunter that he is the boy who made me a mom. In our
rare quiet moments alone together, he likes to hear the story about how I wanted to be a mother my entire life and he was the baby who made my dreams come true.
Last night I took some time to remember the details of his birth and was grateful that my man was home to fill in the gaps in my memory.
My labor started 12 days earlier than expected while we were at a game night with some friends. I remember telling everyone around me to stop making me laugh because I was having a contraction.
They were consistently about 15 minutes apart throughout the evening, and the novice I was, I didn't even think about the consequences of eating pizza and Doritos all evening and the unpleasant experience of them coming back up.
As soon as we got in the car around 11 p.m., the contractions immediately kicked in strong and hard and were consistently five minutes apart. We went home, I laid down for a bit and we called my doula to tell her about my labor.
I remember, despite my comprehensive book knowledge about labor, I was shocked and scared when my water broke at around 3 a.m. I started to cry and shake, but my brave and supportive husband assured me that the fluid was clear, so we had nothing to worry about.
Our doula encouraged us to start for the hospital and she followed us in her own car. She told us later that she feared a "side of the road" birth because things were progressing so quickly.
Nevertheless, I made it to the hospital, where I was clearly in transition and my pizza and Dorito binge came back to bite me. My friend Tracy came to video the birth for us, because my philosophy is that if I have to go through it, I want to be able to see what I went through.
That darn doctor was delayed by about 30-45 minutes and I had to hold off pushing for that entire time. Have you ever tried NOT to push? It's like trying not to blink or breathe. Your body just does it!
After 20 minutes of pushing, at 6:02 a.m. our son was laying in my arms. We didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, so it was the best present ever opened.
The Hunter was such a good baby. He slept when he was supposed to sleep, ate when he was supposed to eat, and was an all around, happy boy.
In line with being first born, he is fiercely independent. He also gives his dad a run for his money because he is a first rate salesman when he wants
someone everyone to follow his plans and ideas.
He is also quite forgiving. I had a horrible mothering day yesterday and when I put him to bed, we were talking about his birthday and he reminded me that he made me a mom. I replied that I wasn't a very good mom that day and I felt badly about it.
"Yes you were Mom. You're always a good mom. You just did some of this (insert grumpy face)."
How could I argue with that?
Happy Birthday buddy. You make us proud and we love you dearly.
Thanks for making me a mom.