I was in miserable agony at this moment. Actually, that's not true. I had an epidural. I think. At some point after midnight, that was gone and I was in what felt like a battle against a c-section. Little did I know that sections aren't that bad. If I wasn't so stubborn, today could actually have been J's birthday! Lesson learned!
My boy will be 8 tomorrow! Hard to believe. I was sorting through photos tonight, looking for some to post....and the difference in the photos of Justin and I vs. the photos of me with the other two....it's unreal. I have precious photos of me with the younger ones. I'm beaming, they are peaceful...I look so happy and proud. In the photos with J, we are both flushed, swollen (18 hours of IV fluids is good for no one)...confused, exhausted....and altogether unsure of what just happened. Truly, we both look as though we just got hit by a truck.
And in a way, that's completely accurate. Clearly neither of us knew how to deliver a baby (!)....neither of us knew how to nurse...He certainly didn't know how to sleep!! But I have never felt so certain that I would figure it all out, as I did that early, early morning. I vividly remember looking over at my boy (okay, boy
S...the phenergan gave me double vision...) in his bassinet once we were wheeled back to our room from the OR....and saying, "Hey, baby..." And he just looked at me with his eyes wide open.
And that was the last time Justin was ever, completely still! HA!
He's such a spirited, loving boy...and I'm so glad to be his mom. And I'm eternally grateful that the Good Lord gave him to me when I was young...so that I could attempt to keep up with him and stay on top of all his antics. I just love him so much I could pop.
Love you, Jet Plane!
:)
Shoot me now...
My sweet little fella...
The exhausted pair...
And just because I love this photo SO much...