“It’s a boy. He’s waving hi on the screen…see that, Mom and Dad?”
A boy? The ultrasound tech at 20 weeks had delivered news that made me smile so big and made my heart skip a little bit inside my chest. I was a little scared to think about raising a boy. Girls were familiar. Girl clothes, girl likes and dislikes, girl conversation. I grew up with two sisters and no brothers which has given me such a beautiful set of friends now. Sisterhood is richness of friendship when you can appreciate the differences and glory in the bond that has been gifted to you. I am thankful more and more each day for my sisters.
The worries or uncertainty I suppose of being a ‘boy mom’ melted away very quickly as I thought about it. I was going to have a girl and a boy, Lord willing, just 18 months apart! What a tremendous joy.
Knowing the gender of baby #2, we began talking about names soon after and had settled on one particular one. Or so I thought. Just a week before our son was born, Dan decided to drop a ‘name bomb’ on me. “What do you think about this one?” Oh shoot. I actually really like that one. Well now what am I supposed to do with that, Dan? A few minutes after he was born, Dan looks at me and says: “So what’s it going to be?” I found my newborn’s eyes and chose very easily the brand new, week before our due date name. This boy of ours, now 4 years old, is 100% named well. Love him, his big heart, and his strong will more than words can say.
The really crazy part of my pregnancy with our second was this little organ called the gallbladder. I found out in February 2016, about two weeks into my pregnancy and precisely two weeks too late, that my gallbladder was full of gallstones and needed to come out surgically. The plan? Eat as little fat as possible to avoid aggravating it. Haha! Okay then. Tell a pregnant mom to not eat anything fatty. Hilarious.
I actually did okay at this endeavor until September of 2016. That’s when the first ‘attack’ hit, and it was followed by two more in the span of a week or so. I remember telling Dan that a gallbladder attack was hands down more painful than labor. More to come on that juicy tidbit later….
Long story short, I ended up going without fats to speak of for the last six weeks of my pregnancy. Doctors orders and helped most definitely for fear of having another episode. Laproscopic surgery was scheduled for six weeks after I delivered baby and all went smoothly. The not so fun parts of that have faded alot and I’m grateful the pregnancy went as well as it did under those circumstances. Gratitude.
Our son was due on October 27, 2016. Two weeks before my due date I had membranes stripped. No dice. Annnnd then one week before, stripped again. Arg. No baby. We went out for Mexican with Dan’s family for my brother in law’s birthday, and I remember him laughing about giving me a jalapeno to ‘get things moving’. It was a valiant effort anyway, but no cigar.
October 26th rolls around and picture a very thin (remember…..zero fat!), Very determined pregnant lady and her equally determined mom walking four miles round-trip to, again, ‘get things moving’. Mom made me some spaghetti noodles after said walk and I thought maybe I should sit down, because things were feeling crampy. Dan comes home and checks in. “Ya know, I think maybe I felt one contraction. I’m gonna go shower and see if that does anything”.
One 5 minute shower and those contractions were, I kid you not, three minutes apart. Dan, without saying anything to my mom, puts the car seat in the car and walks right by with our bags. I come out of the bathroom around 7 and give her BIG eyes. “Wait”, she says, “you’re leaving?!”
Dan is throttling down Sunset Drive. I’ll never forget my white knuckles as the contractions move down to two minutes apart. I know they had us in the waiting room for a seriously long amount of time, because there I sat, Dan trying to check us in as fast as he humanly could, breathing and wincing a whole lot more than one should in a waiting room. That poor family sitting across from me who must have been there to welcome a family addition, instead finding me staring them in the eyes through each intense labor pang.
No more messing around after that. I barely remember being changed into a gown or even the IVs that kept ‘hitting a valve’ on my hand. I do remember forever and always looking into my husband’s eyes and quite literally begging for an epidural. Begging you guys. Doc kind of chuckled and said in his deep, gentle voice: ‘Hunny. There is no time for one’.
God made our bodies and they are machines of handiwork, they really are. In that moment, not a soul on this earth could have stopped me from pushing that baby out. It’s intense pain marbled with a familiarity that is there without having ever felt it before. Definitely worse than gallbladder episodes though. No contest. Although you do get an incredible reward at the end of the pain, and that, as they say, makes it all worth it.
Three gigantic pushes and that baby came flying out; full head of hair at 9:05 pm. He was dark haired and handsome for a newborn. 9 lbs on the dot. I remember our son laying on my chest and there was no thought of anything else. He was healthy and I was happy to have him in my arms. A boy. A child of God. Our second.
Many are the plans in our hearts, but it is the Lord’s purposes that prevail. I am reminded in writing this account now that there were many emotions associated with that year of pregnancy and delivery. Many things seemed huge at the time that now we can look back and see God’s plan was indeed as perfect as He promised.
To my dear second born: I love your smile and your excitement about life. You have been a whirlwind since you rocketed into this world over 4 years ago, and your Dad and I are in awe of how well you round out our home. There are times that your firey spirit gets you in trouble. But we want you to always, always remember the Lord. Remember that He is in control of all things. Remember that He gave you physical life and that there is spiritual life in His Son. Remember our love for you is unfading. -Your mama