Three weeks ago today I went into labor. It may be a cliche, but it is amazing to me how much he has changed and how much Rocky and I have changed. Somewhere along the line, our memories seem to have changed along with it. You hear that if it were not for selective memories of labor and delivery, women would only have one child. Everyone's experience is different and I am sure many women can't shake the memory, no matter how hard they try.
Just 20 days into parenthood, I'd have to say we already display the symptoms of selective memory. Rocky came in to check on me and the baby and as he turned to leave, he looked at me and said, "we have to do this again." Bennett was only a couple of days old. I was still tired and shaky from the birth, but I have to admit that I agreed with him wholeheartedly. With our sleepy bundle still groggy from the birth, how could we not want another? I think Rocky was even further convinced when I discovered that I could already button my favorite jeans.
We might already be blocking out the icky and painful parts of Bennett's birth, but I really do not want to forget the good stuff.
I learned that Rocky does a mean Ricky Ricardo impersonation. I had a couple contractions just after getting in bed. Rocky had instantly fallen asleep, so when he got up to go to the bathroom an hour later and I told him I thought I was having contractions, he screamed out "contractions?" Apparently in high stress situations, he does a very good Mrs. Lucy. Of course, he went right back to bed and fell back to sleep.
I discovered that we didn't have a bathtub plug at 4 in the morning. I wanted to cry.
I was pacing in the living room waiting for Rocky to take me to the hospital. I about exploded when I heard him MOVING FURNITURE upstairs.
Rocky forgot about the temporary parking for dad's and disappeared for twenty minutes to park while the security guard watched me pace the hall and frantically dial Rocky's cell phone. Guess who is operating better with the lack of sleep?
When we got there, I was convinced they were going to send me home because I wasn't far enough along. Either I am an idiot or have a stronger threshold for pain that I thought because I was already halfway there. They started tagging me and it became pretty clear I was going nowhere.
In Labor and Delivery, my nurses, both my doctors and my anesthesiologist were all women. It was incredible to be surrounded by all those capable, strong women. Even surrounded by iv's, monitors and machines, it felt so natural.
Rocky and I kicked everyone out of the room so we could have a moment before the big show. I hope I remember how special it was knowing it was the last time it would be just the two of us.
I never want to forget hearing my mom cry when he was born.
Bennett was placed on my chest right after delivery, blue and goopy and screaming bloody murder. I was so happy. It makes me laugh knowing my sister told me to wait to take the baby after they cleaned him up because they come out "so disgusting."
Rocky didn't leave his side as he was weighed, measured and given a 9 and another 9 on his apgars.
Our nurse Donna, her patience and persistence as Mr. Bennett learned to eat. Then later, watching Rocky using her techniques to help.
Our hospital gave us a "celebration meal." We got to order a special dinner brought to us on a cart with a white tablecloth. The celebratory root beer really hit the spot. Tre fancy.
When we came home, our neighbor came running across the street to meet Bennett. Seeing how excited a relatively new friend can be just reinforced what a special time this was for our little family and our little world.
As I rock our little boy who doesn't want to sleep, I know I will remember how much I cherished our time together and not the lack of sleep, the frustration of not knowing what causes him such anguish, or the pitch of his cry when we have the audacity to take off his clothes to change his diaper. I know that I will remember the smell of his skin, the feeling of his silky hair, and the look of those very chubby cheeks.