I wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant. Our doctor said there was a decent chance I wouldn't if I didn't get pregnant right after coming off the pill, and I had put God in my doubt box while He went ahead and gave us a baby anyways.
The Pats won. We celebrated our pregnancy with Indian food.
|Our little Patriots fans in training - September 2014|
I will always remember the night we thought we had a miscarriage and the relief that I felt in the hospital the next day when they found a heartbeat and told me my cervix was fully intact. And I very clearly remember the day at 28 weeks we found out the hematoma was gone from my uterus. Prayer and praise and prayer and praise again.
We celebrated with Indian food that day too. And decided her name would be Evangeline, the bearer of good news.
God is so good.
|Will playing outside during his last day as an only child.|
Will was almost 2 and was halfway through a round of antibiotics to ward off a case of bronchitis and a mild ear infection. I had run out of probiotics the day before and didn't realize what missing a dose of them would do to his system. As a result, I spent the first half of my morning covered in kid puke before I was finally able to get us ready to go to Target to get more probiotics and a box of crackers for him to snack on while I went to my doctor's appointment.
While at Target I realized he didn't have a change of clothes and luckily there was an outfit on the clearance rack his size. I also realized - nine months pregnant - that I hadn't eaten my OWN breakfast that morning, so I bought and ate a Hershey's bar at the checkout.
By the time I met my husband at my doctor's appointment, I felt like I had been through the ringer. Exhausted, frazzled, worried about my son, hungry... and it wasn't even 10:30 yet.
Then the appointment happened. My blood pressure was high, there was concerning protein in my urine, and I was off to the hospital for a non-stress test and a full urine/blood work-up.
The doctor - thankfully my favorite OB was on call - said we'd be having our baby by dinner.
|Baby Evie in all her pre-birth, 20-week in-utero glory|
My mom wasn't due up for another week. My husband called three JC Penney stores in her area to track down which one she worked at. Flights were changed. Arrangements for my poor, sick (and now exhausted from only having a 15-minute nap) little guy were made for the night. A ride for my mom from the airport was arranged.
The next thing I knew, I was in the OR with 90's rock music blaring (seriously, best birthing OR team EVER), getting a spinal, and lying down while they went and got Steve ready to come in.
Evangeline Margaret was born at 4:49 PM, making her presence known rather vocally.
|OK... maybe not so vocally here...|
That was a year ago. In just a few short days, our baby girl will be a year old.
I had heard someone say once that girls grow up faster than you want them to. I mean, my son is growing up too fast too, but Evie... Evie's really, REALLY growing up too fast. She understands almost all of what we say to her and listens and has opinions already and is one confidence boost away from walking.
I'm not ready for her to not be a little baby anymore yet.
So yesterday afternoon when she needed some snuggles after the first half of her nap, I had a hard time putting her back down in her crib to rest. There she was, head mostly on my shoulder but also leaning on my arm, legs and feet splayed across my lap, hands gripping her pink elephant and my shirt. Eyes closed, binky rhythmically bouncing sleepily in her mouth, the breathing of a snoozing baby slowly drifting in and out of her nostrils.
She was so peaceful, so comfortable.
Still so little. So much bigger than a year ago, but so much smaller than she'll be in a year from now, or ten years, or fifteen.
I just held her. I snuggled her. I put my nose in her baby hair and took in her smallness.
|This was clearly not taken yesterday.|
I think about my own mom who always just wants to hug us. I remember being well into my twenties and thinking about how annoying it was, but I never said anything because she was my mom. Something told me to just let her enjoy and let her love us.
Those hugs... they don't bother me anymore.
I get it now. I bet a part of her wants those baby snuggles just one more time. I know this because I watch my son grow and even though he's almost 3 now, there are moments when he's sleeping that I can still see that baby face somewhere in his eyelids.
My Grammy Kathy always says "There's nothing like a baby, is there?"
So I let Evie sleep in my arms a little bit longer these days. I enjoy those moments that she's just snoozing, because a day will come when she won't always want those hugs and snuggles - and even if she does, she won't be this small.
I'll never forget the day we found out she existed, the day we found out she was OK, and the day she was born.
I'll never forget the moments she rested easy in my arms.
And I'll hold these moments - and many more to come - with each passing year.
Because I never know when it will be their last, and they're on to the next thing that will make me take pause, fill me with pride, or leave me with more emotions than I can articulate.
God is so good. Praise Him for my little miracles.
And happy first birthday to my baby Evie girl.