9 years ago at this time I was going into labor– 2 weeks early. As I like to remind my son, it was a long labor, in which he resisted making his entrance into the world, so it culminated in having him surgically removed from my belly.
He was coming out whether he wanted to or not.
And never in my life have I been so glad to see a woman coming at my spine with a huge needle.
At about 1:30 that next afternoon the nurse stuck her head back through the OR door to inform us all that “Bubba weighed 11 lbs 3 oz.”
He’s been affectionately called Bubba ever since. And he’s remained as stubborn as he was that first day when he decided he liked the comforts of the womb, and he didn’t want to leave after all.
Since my children are close in age, I’m not sure I had the perspective on parenting that I thought I did after having had my first one around for only 21 months, but the last 9 years have taught me much.
9 years have shown me that I can do (and have done) things that would take down some very rock solid men. Witness me *not* turning my head away when they started stitching my one year old’s forehead shut, although I was tempted. The little dude who was crying and strapped to a papoose board needed me more than I needed to not have that image in my mind forever.
9 years have taught me that I can function on 3 hours of sleep, and I may nod off at inopportune moments, but usually not while driving.
9 years have allowed my ears and brain to know the difference between blood-curdling, “mommy, I’m hurt” screams, and blood-curdling, “I hate my sibling and am going to kill him/her” screams. One requires my immediate attention, while the other requires me to pray that some time in the future they will like each other.
9 years let me know that some of the most basic character traits must be genetic, but I still have no idea where that hard-headed gene comes from. *looks around the room innocently*
The last 9 year have been a learning experience, and yes, there are days when I know why some mothers eat their young, but there are other days that make it a completely worthwhile experience.
I’m sure the next 9 years will be equally filled with learning opportunities, and by the time I deal with all of the teen angst and social ills, I will be longing for the days of diaper rash, baby-proofing, and midnight feedings.
Happy Birthday ZJG! You’ll always be my Baby Bubba 🙂