I will start at the beginning. Seems appropriate.
Seven years into a happy marriage, I found myself changing my mind about children. My Mom says it was the ticking clock, but I will always say it was me changing my mind. It startled me so much, that I didn’t tell a single soul for months. I wanted to make sure it was real, and be completely happy with all potential outcomes before sharing this breaking news with my husband. It was very real, so I told my husband. He was thrilled, shocked, and happy.
Then came the first of many hard decisions, discussions, and deadlines.
I was not even pregnant, but I knew I wanted to stay home full time. We jointly decided that we would try to have a baby for 12 months, and if we were not successful, pursue adoption. We were going to be parents! We discussed where we would move to, as our current home was great for two, ok for two and a peanut, but downright cramped with three.
11 months later, I was pregnant, and 8 months after that, I was unable to work due to being the size of a planet, and having tree trunks for legs. I felt ok, I just looked REALLY bad. I had one pair of shoes that “fit” and they are still on the bottom tier of my shoe rack, stretched into an inhuman shape.
The day came to meet our daughter, turn our parents into grandparents, siblings into aunts and uncles, and become parents ourselves.
I was terrified of labor and delivery. I checked in, went to my room, and had a good hard cry in the bathroom. That would be the only time I cried in L&D. After a good hard try at a surgery-free delivery, I had a very pleasant cesarean section, and there, in that bright, white, shiny operating room – I heard her cry, and sang Happy Birthday to my brand new daughter. I have enjoyed some strange things in my life, but very little compares to the weirdness of singing to a baby while your having surgery.
Everyone was so so so happy that day! It was a truly joyful time.