Well. Sam will be two weeks old tomorrow, and I finally got online to blog about his birth story. When I logged in I found this entry that was unfinished. I started it three days before I went into labor and never got back to it, but I feel like it needed to be published so I have a record of these things.
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Raindrops on roses
And whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles
And warm woolen mittens...
Can you guess what this post is about? I don't keep a baby book - I blog instead. And now that we're getting close to the end of this pregnancy - (Please God, let the end be near?) - I figured I'd like to have a record of some favorite memories.
Like, for example, the day the test turned positive about one hour after I assured my mother I was most definitely NOT pregnant. And then I had a nervous breakdown. And then I made Aaron drive straight to Mesquite so I could tell Mom I "lied" to her and apologize appropriately. Strangely enough, she didn't seem to mind too much.
Then there's the first time I got dressed to go out once my belly had "popped out" and Aaron looked at me and said "Wow honey, you actually look pregnant instead of just looking fat". Nice.
The day we found out that the little peanut inside me was indeed a boy we told my mom by giving her a tiny boy's outfit that said "I Dig Grandma". Then we started calling people including, of course, my sister-in-law who told my nephew, Jake, that he was going to have a boy cousin. Jake's response? "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" He's gotten used to the idea since then.
A few weeks ago Jake saw my belly move (after I ate a cookie) and he sort of wigged out.
"What IS that, Aunt Sarah?!?!"
"It's Baby Sam in my tummy"
"Like your cookie is in your tummy?!"
"Ummmmm...not exactly. But sort of."
"But how will Baby Sam come out of there?"
"God will tell him when it's time."
"Oh. Okay. Want to play with my cars and trucks?"
<WHEW>
There was the 3D sonogram on Mother's Day weekend
Watching Sam's Daddy, Papa, and Pop Brooks spend a Sunday afternoon putting up the chair rail in the nursery
Shopping for maternity clothes and tiny little baby things with Nana
Getting to FINALLY pull out and wash the onesie, bib, and booties that Aunt Velvet gave us back in 2006. It's been waiting in the "hope chest" since then.
Laughing at my husband trying to "sneak up" on my belly so he could see Sam move. He seemed to get suddenly still everytime Aaron came close.
Pepper digging and barking at my belly when it moved or twitched
Facebook conversations with a high school buddy and a college roommate. Nothing is sacred, folks. NOTHING!
Eating almost nothing but mashed potatoes, refried beans, and Jack In The Box tacos for nearly 20 weeks until my stomach decided to accept something else. And even after 20 weeks it was anyone's guess how each day was going to go. (Okay, that's really not a *favorite* memory, but it should still be recorded so I can hold it over this child's head someday.)
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So many memories over 39 weeks of pregnancy, and now that it's over it seems like it flew by! For the first few days we were home I would occasionally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and would do a double-take at the change I saw. No more giant belly. No more swollen feet and face. And usually I would break down and cry. It wasn't that I missed being pregnant - (No more puking! Huzzah!) - it was just so overwhelming how quickly all the anticipation and excitement had changed into responsibility and reality. It's so incredibly surreal to look across the room and see a tiny little human asleep in a bouncer shaped like a frog and know that that same human lived inside of me for nine months. I'll work on writing out the novel that will be Sam's birth story, but let me just say right now that if the last two weeks are any indication...the next 18 years (and more) is going to be one crazy journey!
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