I gave birth to my son. I can’t believe it’s been 10 years already. It frightens me a little that he is only three years away from being referred to as a teenager. You hear nothing more when you’re a parent then “Just wait those teenage years suck” and then I remember what I was like as a teenager and have to agree, that I don’t look forward to it.
I had to live in the hospital for a month when I was pregnant with him. I’ll never forget that. My husband refused to sleep at home so they gave us the biggest room they had and he slept on a cot for a month, brought is Playstation in, we started watching Survivor for the first time, the nurse would give him access to all the snacks, they’d deliver us both dinner, and he was there every day unless he was working. And even then, he hated leaving for that. And he left at all hours of the night to go get me gummy worms.
He was so tiny when he was born because he was early. I’d stand next to his crib and watch to make sure he was breathing. I slept in his room because I was such a wuss when he would cry I didn’t like for him to cry while I walked from my room to his, so I just slept in there.
It’s amazing that 6 years later is when I realized I wasn’t cut out to be this lovely, susie homemaker, stay at home mom, soccer mom, mother of the year type. I had no desire to participate in school projects where baking was required, I had no desire to sit on the floor and play legos for hours. I’ve just never been that type of mom. And at one point I thought I was just going to run away from it all. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, how I’d do it, but I knew I couldn’t be this stay at home mom type for much longer. Even with my work I was just going insane. I had Dora episodes memorized, I had changed diapers for years since now my daughter was here also. I had made bottles, cleaned up shit, comforted the tears. It just wasn’t me.
And then I talked to my husband, and here we are. I found me again in our open marriage freedom. Not just because I could sleep with other people, but because my interests didn’t have to revolve around my children and husband anymore. Bless his heart for not throwing me out of the house, and that day I knew I’d never want to be without him by my side.
I still may not be the perfect mom, and you’ll never see me with bumper stickers on my car about my kid, and you’ll never see me wearing an apron, or being a member of the PTA. But I found a way to make it work.
Happy birthday to my little man. I’ll never forget in your first week of life how you peed in my aunt’s face. You were my first, and you are going to be a brilliant scientist one day my sweet, loveable son. xo