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I woke up at 5:30 a.m. on David’s 6-month “birthday,” and couldn’t get back to sleep, so fierce was my need to write. Here’s what spilled out onto my dad’s laptop.
It’s June 20th, and David is 6 months old today.
That morning I went in for my last appointment with Leigh, I’m not sure what I expected. Definitely to have progressed farther than I was, since my contractions had been coming and going for the better part of a week. I had always hoped to go into labor on my own again; having a natural delivery with pitocin was out of the question for me. I’d heard the horror stories.
Did a little piece of me know Leigh would an induction that day? Maybe. I had it in my mind that Leigh wanted to get David out so she could have her Christmas vacation in peace. And oh, did I want him out. Nine months of exhaustion, running after Libbie while being in various stages of wanting to throw up or lie down right there. Bread-baking and whole foods had all but been thrown out the window. It’s hard to put something in the oven when you can barely bend over.
Being induced by having my water broken was not what I wanted, neither was it exactly pleasant. I know my labor was much more painful as a result.
But oh, sweet David, you were worth every second. I love that little guy so incredibly much. It’s so easy to love a baby, compared to a two-year-old. OF COURSE I love them both immensely, equally, but loving Libbie is just harder some days. (And loving David did get easier when he wasn’t waking up every three hours any more.)
I find myself wishing I could capture every moment of David on video right now, because he is too precious for words, too cute for just pictures. I worry my memory will not keep fresh his toothless smiles and giggles, the way he flirts with someone he meets and then hides his head, his possessive hand on my chest while he nurses with glee, the way he is already scooting backwards and trying to crawl.
I had never until this week thought maybe I don’t want any more kids. Maybe I don’t have any more love to go around, my heart is so full. (And oh, the shudder at the thought of being pregnant again. I love the kicks and movement, the knowledge … but I hate everything else.)
Only God knows what the future brings. I guess we shall see.
Happy half-birthday, David. Mommy loves you bunches!