Sometimes I'm amazed realizing just how quickly time is passing by. I can look back and remember being in high school. I never wanted to be a mom back then. I was determined I was going to be an international political criminal defense attorney. Is there even really such a thing? Probably.
Then I went to college and all I could think about was changing the world. Well, let's be honest. Changing the world and boys. I really liked boys. That's probably why it didn't come as a shock when I chose to get married right before my senior year of college. And I wouldn't change that decision for the world. I'm still so grateful I married my best friend.
But then we found out about our wonderful honeymoon baby. I was scared spitless. Well, I wish it was spitless. Morning sickness is an awful, awful thing. I was terrified to have a child! I was terrified of getting that child out of me. (To be honest, I was still just as terrified by the time I had my fourth child.) I was terrified of being sent home with this little person that I was supposed to magically know how to care for. Are you kidding me?! I never even babysat!
Then, 9 months after we were married, she came. And she was perfect. And I hated every doctor and nurse within a ten mile radius for not respecting my privacy. And then for having the nerve to send me home with her!
I was so grateful my husband knew what he was doing. I had an evil nurse at the hospital that traumatized my baby and I in regards to breastfeeding, so that didn't go too well for the first month or so. My mother in law (wonderful woman, btw), told me that I couldn't take my baby out of the house for anything or else she would DIE, so I didn't go anywhere for a long time. And I'm kind of a crazy social person. No wonder I ended up with such bad postpartum.
But I came out of it just fine. Well, I think I did, at least. Then I found out I was pregnant again just 8 months later. What?!?! But things didn't go well with that pregnancy. I don't know why, but I miscarried.
That was hard. When you find out you're pregnant that quickly after having had your first child, part of you wonders if you can handle having another baby. Then, when you lose that child, you feel guilt and wish with every fiber of your being that you hadn't lost the baby. Such a horrible time!
By then, I wanted another baby, but I couldn't handle the thought of disrespecting that baby by getting pregnant with another one so quickly. (Don't ask, I don't understand my reasoning much, either.) So we waited until I would've given birth to that child, then we started trying again. It was better for my body that way, too.
Then along comes number 2. A boy. A perfect, perfect boy. When he was born (a week late and at 9lbs 7oz, mind you), I couldn't imagine loving anyone more. It was like I had finally gotten rid of all the horrible paranoias of being a mother and I could just enjoy this wonderful little one. His great grandmother said that his eyes were so intense that she thought he was staring straight into her soul the first time she held him. He did the same thing to me the first time I held him.
But then I had to go home.
I don't think I would've been as okay if my sister-in-law hadn't just had her first baby and been struggling as much as I did with my oldest. Part of me just decided that I needed to be strong for her. And this time I at least knew what was coming. Sleepless nights. Breastfeeding NIGHTMARES. Colic. Being peed on and pooed on. Being a puke rag. Being so exhausted that you can't hardly function anymore.
But I also knew the precious times we would have. Introducing this little man to his big sister. Showing him the whole world and teaching him so many wonderful things!
So my two wonderful little ones started growing. And growing. And growing. We were starting kindergarten. Oh my!
We knew we wanted more kids. So we started trying. And trying. And trying. And nothing. We couldn't get pregnant.
For a whole year we went through this. Doing ovulation tests monthly. Praying to get pregnant. Getting terrified that we might not have any more kids.
Meanwhile, 5 other babies were born in my husband's family. I was so happy for each of them, but heartbroken that it wasn't us.
Shortly after the last of the 5 (twins, btw) were born, we found out it was our turn. We were finally having baby number 3!!!
You know how some people have dreams or strong inclinations as to what gender baby they're going to have? Well, I crave colors. That's how I know what we're having. With my oldest, I didn't crave anything, so I never knew what she was going to be. With my second, I craved blue EVERYTHING. With this third one, it was pink. If it was pink, I had to have it.
And so along came our second little girl. The first to come a week early, btw. I was jumping (figuratively) for joy when my water broke. They couldn't send me home!!!
When she was about two weeks old, though, I got sick. Really sick. At the time, they tried to tell me it was possibly from a blood clot (no breastfeeding for 2 days -- talk about traumatic!). The tests came back clean, though. So they told me it was because I had eaten something too fatty for dinner. Bye bye DiGiorno pizza and salad! (Not really, I just thought they were crazy.)
So they sent me home and that was that.
She was such a wonderful baby. Colicky, crazy, and just wonderful. From the moment she was born, I knew she'd be full of life (read: wild child). And she's definitely met my expectations. Granted, she's only three right now, but she is definitely our most active child (and the one I'm mostly hiding from right now).
We knew we wanted to have one more baby. Since it took us so long to get pregnant with #3, we decided to start trying just before she turned one. We kind of wanted all of our kids to be right around 2 years apart. Well, apparently this little man needed to be here sooner. Hello close siblings! He was born 22 months after our last child. And he weighed in at a whopping 9lbs 11 oz. Apparently I have huge boys.
He's now almost 2 years old. I honestly can't believe time has gone by that quickly. And I can't believe I gave birth to such a LOUD child. He's just as crazy as his big sister but twice as loud. And I'm so grateful that he still snuggles with me! The others are entirely too busy for that -- unless it's during a movie. Then they all have to be right on top of me.
So those are my monkey's birth stories (well, the spacing stories, more, I guess). I'll probably share more detail later on about how they got here if it becomes relevant.
The point of this blog is to chronicle their stories. What it's like to watch these incredible human beings grow up right before my eyes. They amaze me every single day. They drive me nuts every single day (hello, homework and chores? Ugh!). And I couldn't imagine my life without them.
Who knew being a mother could rock so much?
