Thursday, March 17, 2011

It's a Boy!!


"It's a Boy!" the doctor shouted after a long, hard labor that ended with me lying down behind a big curtain and my man next to me with a mushroom-type head cover on.


A Boy? No way. No way. That was all I could think as Patrick gave me a kiss on my forehead and began what would become his routine for each child, of following very, almost too, closely and watching every movement made with our newest addition. As I lay there alone on that table in this cold, bright place, all I could think of was the three words, It's a boy. Almost as quickly as that thought came, I was out and slowly waking in recovery. Alone again, behind a curtain, it all felt like a dream. Nurses were coming in and out and I could hardly remember the events of the last 7 hours. It didn't seem real. Slowly the day started coming back to me and I remembered...I had a boy. Wow. A boy. It didn't seem real.


The entire 9 months I had convinced myself it was a girl and in the process, I think I had convinced Patrick too although I knew he would love to have a little boy. You know, the football-throwing-fishing/hunting-buddy kind of boy. I had the same picture, only with a girl. My mom had two girls, my sister at this time had two girls. I knew girls. I grew up with many girl cousins. I had a brother but with him came two more sisters. I was having a girl. I was convinced. So much so, that I only pictured myself with a girl, I shopped for girl things, I picked out girl names, and I decorated our generic room in my mind with the new girl things I was going to add once she arrived.


No girl. It was a boy. In recovery, I still had not held him. In my groogy state, I had only seen him wrapped up head to foot with just a little nose and two eyes showing. It could have been a girl the way they presented him. I had not yet held him, I didn't know him, I couldn't picture him, I hadn't seen him. It was so unbelieveable. I didn't seem real.


Fast forward to today, knowing what I know now, 12 years later. "It's a boy!" would have had me grinning from ear to ear. Knowing what I know now, 12 years later. I would have anticipated the wonderful moments that come from having a boy, this boy in particular. Past all of the jumping, running, ball throwing, collarbone breaking, team cheering, air soft playing, hunting, fishing, there is a young man who is the neatest boy I know. He is very loving with his sisters, and they adore him. He watches out for them without being asked and he reads to them just because. They come to him when they are hurt or tired or want to be held and he always stops to do just that. He is tough on them and often keeps them in line. I never worry about my girls when Logan is at the helm. He is a great older brother to Cole. He is the most patient older brother I could imagine. He jokes with Cole, shares, plays around, and talks late into the night with him. 98% of the time, they are buds. He is the first one to jump out of the car to help me get in, the first one to grab a load out of my arms when he sees me coming and is the first one to help unload groceries from the car. He is the "man of the house," a responsiblity he has put on himself when Patrick is gone. He secures the garage at night, takes out trash, locks up doors, and checks on me. He has a hard time leaving if he knows I will be alone and is very quick to make sure I am ok. He loves to talk on his terms and I have learned the art of being quiet around him until he is ready. He still loves to be read to and prays daily for his family. He's got the funniest sense of humor and can take a joke better than anyone I know. He can laugh at himself, and unless losing a board game, does not take himself very seriously at all. He needs hugs more than he lets on and loves to weekly measure his growth by is-he-taller-than-his-mom-yet. He challenges me daily to be a better wife and mother because I know he is watching, and if what "they" say is true, he will look for someone like me one day.


Going back to that day in recovery. Knowing what I know now. I would shout at the top of my lungs, "It's a Boy!"


Happy #12 Pickle.

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