So here I am, at 5a.m April 4, 2008 right before leaving for the hospital. I was exactly 40 weeks pregnant and if I do say so myself, I look damn good. No stretch marks, perfect size belly, face only puffed out a little.
First family picture! Olivia came a few hours after I had Jackson and was pretty excited to show him her Horton elephant. She was loaded up with Big Sister stickers so that was a big deal for her.
Jackson was clearly a mama's boy from the word go. He was bottle fed right away because I had such an awful experience with breastfeeding with Olivia that I just wasn't doing it. But I pumped milk for him and it was supplement. But in the two days we were in the hospital, I rocked him most of the time. I had a special bond with him for a reason that I might go into one day, but it was special. He was mine and nobody wanted him more than I did.
Seeing Olivia with her brother was really amazing. She was so gentle, she was so interested but at the same time terrified of him. She was so interested in his hands and wanted to hold his hand a lot. I remember thinking how sweet that was, and to this day for the most part, she's good with him. I had Jackson on a Friday so I got some really kick ass nurses over the weekend. They brought me the ice cream from the nurses kitchen, brought me the "other" menu of food, and didn't blink an eye when I wanted Pepsi and french fries minutes after giving birth. These nurses were the shit. I also need to give a plug for the Sitz Bath. Those of you suckers giving birth at St. Mary's don't get this. But us awesome people at St. Luke's have the hidden treasure that is the Sitz Bath. The concept is really gross actually- you have water spraying at your vag/ass in this bizarre bowl thing with a drain on the floor and you hover over it. But you get 15 minutes every few hours and it is heaven. It feels GREAT down there especially after oh...giving birth. I had (TMI Alert) tore front to back with both babies and had stitches so this was the best they could do for me.
And I'd like to know why can't someone invent something better than the net underwear they give you? I mean granted, I would wear regular because you bleed a lot after and I'm not ruining underwear for that. But the net? Really? Not comfortable. Super itchy. Not really covering anything. And the dignity you lose when having to use a squirt bottle to clean yourself? Ugh. I had 12 weeks of that both times because my stitches? Refused to fucking heal already. Anyways.
Jackson fit into the family perfectly. He's like the piece you didn't know was missing until he got here. He was such an easy baby. Only cried when he wanted to eat (every 2 hours in the morning, then every 4 in the afternoon. Would eat 6 ounces at a time since birth. Yes- he was quite piggie..) or wanted to snuggle. He was at his happiest when I held him and rocked.
Jackson at two weeks old in our favorite spot- rocking chair in front of TV. Knowing that he was likely my last baby I tried to savor every bit of his babiness. Unfortnately, Jackson didn't care. He went through his "firsts" so fast I barely remember them. At 3 months he was a professional jumper.
He was crawling at 5 months and walking at 9 months. He rolled over at 2 months, sat at 4 months. At 10 months he was feeding himself food. His favorite were those Gerber puffs and then the cookies.
He was eating all table foods by 8 months. None of that pureed baby shit for him. Nope. He wanted the real deal and the experience with it. This is when he was 7 months old. Spaghetti is, to this day, his favorite food. He sees me drag out my orange dutch oven and that boy is in his chair nevermind supper is still 3 hours away. He is READY.
We still have to get him naked because he still can't help but make a mess out of it.
When I got pregnant with him it was at a really horrible time in my life and in my marriage. Times aren't great by any means now, but this boy reminds me that I can do it. That no matter how bad things get, that there is always something good that will come out of it. If my marriage ends tomorrow, if I fail in my role as a wife I know that no matter what- we made two awesome kids. If we accomplish nothing else in our lives, Matt and I made two kids that are good people. They bring joy to so many and they are loved. No matter what happens, these kids will be loved more than any other kids in the world.
So Happy Birthday, my sweet and beautiful baby boy. I love you more every day and I am so happy you chose me to be your mommy. I love rocking out to Jimi Hendrix with you, and I love seeing you go through my cd's as if they were the best thing ever. I love sharing snacks with you and walking hand in hand around the house. I love your messes and the sweet sounds you make in the morning. I love the way you get so excited when you see me in the morning and when I come home. I love when you run to me screaming "mama!!" with your arms outstretched. I love when you help me clean the house and I love when you bring me my slippers in the morning. Or my purse. I love when you demand to wear my chapstick and want to kiss right after. I love when you give me hugs and kisses randomly or tell me to sit down. And where. I love when you bring me books or toys to keep me busy while you chew the tips of markers off in the next room. I love watching you compete with the big kids at the park and how you run by wiggling down the sidewalk.
You are an amazing little boy who healed me in ways nothing or nobody ever could. Your happiness rubs off on me and no matter how bad things get you always brighten my mood. You and me are like two unwanted things with a special bond and for that my boy? I thank you. I promise to love you "whole super big monkey banana bunches!" forever and ever.