Day Six

This is becoming something I feel like I not only need to do but want to do. Six days in and it feels like an important part of my day. I like it.

Today, my youngest son turned 17. How the Hell that happened I am not sure? It was just about this time 17 years ago that I turned down the epidural and said I was feeling good and would be fine. Then, just as the door closed behind the anesthesiologist....I realized my mistake. "Too late," was the nurse's sing-song reply. "You can do this. You are almost there. I'll call the doctor." She was a either high or a liar...or both.
He was a 10 pound 11 ounce moose that made his way into the world with my screaming a stream of obscenities that would make a long shore man blush. I know there are certain religions that believe that birth should be silent...something about the baby entering the world peacefully? Well, this baby had a steady diet of chocolate chip ice cream, nachos and anything else that struck his big Momma as appealing while in utero, and a healthy introduction to words that he wouldn't be allowed to say on his way out. I was a ginormous (yes, I know that it not a real word..but I love it) waddling woman who was 8 days past her due date. I think the labor and delivery nurses had placed bets to see if it were really just one kid? Or if I were the first woman to have a baby in her uterus and one in her ass? I was huge. And miserable. And I broke the blood vessels in my eyes and cheeks and neck squeezing that sweet punkin' out of me. My husband (at the time) was smart enough not to say a word about any of it. My parents came down to meet the newest grandchild. My always-tell-the-truth Dad said, "What the Hell happened to your face?" I was basking in love for this big sweet honey baked ham that I was holding and completely unaware that I looked like I did.
"What?" I asked defensively.
"Have you seen your face?" he asked, laughing.
"No. Why?" I asked. I think there are plenty of women who do a full face of makeup and allow cameras...as if a birth is some kind of casting call...I did not have either. No makeup, no cameras.
My Dad pulled the mirror that is used to see your own kid squeeze out of a place that doesn't seem big enough for a kid to squeeze of to show me my face. The whites of my eyes were blood red. My cheeks and neck were peppered with broken blood vessels.
"Oh, my God." I said. Silently thanking the fact that no cameras were allowed. (Not in a "Blue Ivy" kind of way but in a let us just get this over with and who wants the video kind of way.)
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I gasped.
My husband and the nurse both looked away. Their gesture indicated to me that as frightening as I was pushing that big boy out...no one was going to show me the results of not breathing correctly as I cursed and screamed. Seriously, if my head could have spun around it would have.
But now, in the calm after the storm...I didn't care. No one was paying $250K for shots of us. (Although he was worth every penny. And...I was really the one who gave birth to him...hence the Halloween face.) We were going to spend the night, get checked out and go home tomorrow. With a sweet big baby and an almost two year old waiting at home.
The good thing about big babies...they eat really well. And sleep really well. The bad thing about big babies who eat really well...boobs so big that they kept me from seeing my own feet. Jesus. We are talking BIG, BIG boobs...like feed the neighborhood big.


This many years later...17...that passed like minutes instead of years...I am so grateful. It in many ways a very painful path. I made lots of mistakes. But every one of them led me to today. In a home that I love, with a Prince that I love and two teenagers that I love. Life is not without heartache and regret and wishes for something different...but I am working very hard to drop the "if only...." from my life. I am healthy. My kids are healthy. My husband is healthy. And hard working. And, for whatever reason, completely in love with me. Yup. There are lots of sucky things in the world. But today, 17 years to the day from the introduction to my second son...I am lucky. I am blessed. I am humble. And I am continuing my work to be better tomorrow than I am today.

And, with the support of my new writing friends.... I will continue to explore.

Day Six. Out.