I'm a bit late with this post..been a busy few weeks and time just keeps getting away from me. However, I haven't forgotten that I need to post something that followed that really hectic weekend we had with the wedding.
That following Monday was a bitter sweet day. 13 years before our wee little baby boy entered our lives. It was his birthday obviously and a day that marked the last of our children under those teen years. That day I reflected on my pregnancy with him. How shocked P and I were to learn that we were going to have another child...then the hell we went through with the first ultra sound and the rude techs which resulted in a free ultra sound after I unknowingly vented to the supervisor of the tech department about how horrible my husband and kids were treated. We had not had any ultra sounds with our three girls, had no desire to know if they would be boys or girls but this last one was different. And the first ultra sound experience left me in tears and P very upset. But that second one was amazing...we left there with the words, you are definitely going to have a boy.
Yeah, right, I certainly was not convinced even though she pointed out all the plumbing. Three girls in and that denial that we would have a boy was overpowering. Then I had another ultra sound at eight months and it was certainly a 'foreign object' that showed on the screen. But even then, I was in disbelief as was P. I bought yellow clothes or neutral colors. Walked around unconvinced. I was sick most of that pregnancy with morning, afternoon, and evening sickness, gained a ton of weight, and looked like I had a watermelon under my clothes....
The day came and I had decided early on that I would do something else different...have the spinal...BIG mistake. I was puking my guts out in between and during contractions, felt miserable but hey, that was the first time after three babies that those awful contractions didn't make me want to pass out. Ahhhhh....then it came time for this 'alien' to come see us...I was yelled at by the doc to stop pushing and I yelled back...unheard of btw with the girls...I had to get that baby out because well..I won't get into why. But when this little 'alien' came out he was definitely a he....and he was very dark. P even asked if I was sure that was his kid--jokingly-- but he was very dark. He looked like his grandpa....round face, scrunched up and the worst part of it all is I was so out of it from the drugs that I could barely hold him.....oh man.....
So this little baby boy was real...changing him was a challenge as I had never experienced pee flying in the air before let alone right in the face when changing a baby in the dark in the middle of the night...it was quite an adventure that I will always hold very dear to my heart.
As this little boy grew he managed to bury within me a love that I will never be able to explain. P always had his little girls....but this was my first experience with mama's boy. Him and I found snakes and lizards, caught monarch caterpillars, watched them turn into butterflies only to let them go, I taught him to fish only to be outfished by the time he was 8 years old...latching on to those two bass that held my worm in their mouths after they broke my line.....oh he's got such a big heart too.....and soccer? Oh yeah the boy can play..in fact he is playing on a team that is a year older than him this year. At the age of 12 he tried out and was placed on the 14-year old team.....talk about proud? Yeah, he's my boy.
Now he is nearly as tall as me, voice deeper than his fathers, girlfriends all over the place, and still...even though he is tough as could be finds moments in his life to talk to me heart to heart, laugh with me...and just be my boy....
Yes, he's on his way to being a man; there is no stopping that runaway train. But in the end he is still my boy...my little man....that very big surprise that to this day still amazes me to no end.
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