A year ago today

I'm not doing anything for Theo's birthday tomorrow, since I'm throwing all my energy into his dual party on the 22nd. It's weird to think of the day going by with no acknowledgment, since the timing worked out to have Bobby's first birthday party on his actual birthday. But it's silly to have a cake or anything when we're just going to do all of that in a week...so pass we shall. Difference between first kid and second kid, huh?

I actually re-read the blog posts around Theo's birth from time to time because I do look back fondly on it - how everything fell into place so nicely and how magical it was having a new baby in the house. But now I'm going to try to just remember the highlights without crib notes.

I remember how those contractions felt as my sister and I sat here in my living room watching TV as Bobby slept, how I kept watching the clock and wondering if I should call one of the friends that offered to drive me to the hospital. How, even though I was on my actual due date as determined by Kaiser, I still couldn't really believe it was actually happening. How heavy and uncomfortable and exhausted I felt being that pregnant. How worried I was about Bobby. How worried I was about giving birth again. 

What a night that was! The other-worldly feeling of arriving at the hospital late at night with everything dark and abandoned. The horrible cervix checks. The frustration of being told I was not in labor even though I was in so much pain. Oh, the pain. That's what I remember most about labor. How much it fucking hurt. How it felt like someone was trying to snap my pelvis like a wishbone at Thanksgiving. Am I happy I'll never have to experience that again, that my boys will never have to experience that? Every day. Every flippin' day.

And then there was little Theo. I had had my eyes shut tight for most of the labor, until my doula said, "Hilary, look! Your baby is being born!" And I'm so glad I did. Theo, with his dark hair and dark eyes and Elvis-like mouth, screaming and indignant and so different from his brother. And the rush of relief that it was over. Over over over. 

And it was all just ok. I was ok and he was ok and Bobby was safe at home with my sister and everything was cool. How could I have done this? Defied my fate and age and the odds and had two healthy, awesome kids, after years of terror that I would never get that chance, that I had missed my window, that it "just wasn't in the cards" for me? And yet I did. 

Theo is one and Bobby will be three. I have been a parent for three years. It has included some of the best and some of the worst experiences of my life already, and yet I am still a total novice, and probably will always be, since every day of Bobby's life will be unchartered territory for me.

Speaking of which, I am going to try nothing but underpants for Bobby tomorrow. He was inspired by a little friend today and wanted to try, and I feel like his language is good enough to ask to go. It may be a total disaster but I feel like with his third birthday looming we need to at least try.

You need to try things in life...right?