Sam's birth was a roller coaster.
Musical chair due dates late in the pregnancy, no progression, breech baby, family in for scheduled section, sent home still pregnant because he turned, hoping for no intervention, waiting, no progression, giant baby, section and 12 days after his real due date, a healthy baby. I was fine. I was not, and then I was.
Through it all, Sam was just perfect, thankfully. The week in the hospital that followed is surreal.
There are moments that are crystal clear, of course, like when Joy and Pat brought 15 month old Jack in to meet Sam.
Jack seemed like he had grown two years in the few hours I was away from him.
Jason holding Sam. He is really good with babies.
And I'll never forget feeding Sam, holding him close, as I watched someone else's blood flow slowly into my body.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know how dramatic that sounds.
Speaking of dramatic, there are moments that I have to ask someone "did that really happen?" because they seem so unrealistic, as if I've internalized scenes from a movie.
Did you really leave the room?
Yes, I was about to tackle the doctor working on you but I knew she was helping.
Did she really say I could die if I cut myself cutting a lemon?
Yes, she was trying to tell you to not to take your numbers lightly.
Did you guys really offer to drive seven hours to donate blood for me?
Duh. Of course.
And then there was Sam....who was the best snuggler...who just went with the flow...who was a constant force for good. We went from being relatively new parents with a babe fresh from his first birthday to parents with two babies. And a huge wake up call. Sleep dep is a piece of cake when you remember that you could have died. Two under two in diapers? No problem. We got this. I will say that, like most parents with a newborn, Sam's first year went by in blur. I love our family the way it is, but sometimes I get a baby jones. Only, I don't want more babies; I want MY babies. I want that time back because it just flew. Like the wisp of smoke from a newly lit match. Gone in an instant.
I think I've watched this about a hundred times already. Where, where, where did the years go?
Today, TODAY, my Sam is thirteen! A teenager! I love that kid, ahem, that young man, so very much. He is smart, quick witted and a little too sarcastic for his age. He is also kind and patient - a good teacher when young family or friends (or his mom) need help with something. He makes me little origami birds. I'm so lucky to call him mine.
And because he's mine and because I can, here are a few more birthday posts:
