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I could never have imagined that life would come at me so fast. In less than a year, I had met the man I was going to marry, said my vows, packed up and moved to Florida, and now I was about to have a baby. Things were moving so fast and I was having a hard time coming to terms with all the changes that were spiraling toward me. I’d never been as in love with someone as I was with my husband; and I’d never been as terrified of the changes that were ahead.
We were having a baby.
Not just any baby…a boy. I grew up with only a sister and had no experience taking care of a little boy. I knew nothing of little boy clothes, little boy personalities…nada. And raising on?! How on earth would I do that? What if I wasn’t a boy person? I mean, my dating record indicated that I didn’t really have the best of luck with the opposite sex. Would my son even want anything to do with his mom? I was fear struck and petrified that my skills as a mom would be lack-luster and that I would doom this poor child to years of therapy and treatment due to my lack of abilities as a mom.
But what could I do?
I was as pregnant as a women could get and I’d already been told that our son would be here “any day now.”
So we waited.
And we waited some more.
At 2:05 am on a Monday morning, my water broke. It was time. The contractions weren’t bad at first, but they were intensely serious by the time we got to the hospital at 3:30 am. But there was no progress. Just pain.
So we waited.
And we waited some more.
Finally, 15 hours later, it was time to push.
“Are you ready to meet your son?” the doctor asked.
Ready? I might as well be. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this “motherhood” thing, but here we go.
49 minutes later, he was here. My son. My little boy. The child I’d carried for nine months was now in my arms and was mine and my husbands sole responsibility.
They handed him to me:
Then the whole world shifted…
[…] It seems like yesterday I was finding out I was pregnant, and then later holding him for the first […]