10 Years of the Boy

Last Wednesday the boy turned 10. Double digits. I’m constantly amazed at how quickly time passes.

In 2002, the baby bug hit. It hit hard. And it didn’t happen. And didn’t happen and didn’t happen. And there were tests and tests and tests. I was shocked because there are a lot of people around that look a lot like me. Fertility has never really been a family challenge. Apparently the cure for me was margaritas. That’s what it took. A big ‘ol margarita party and all the sudden 18 months of trying was over. Baby on the way!

It’s a boy. A big sturdy boy - just like I wished for. Right on the 22 week mark I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I obsessed. The nutritionist was shocked at my numbers - they were perfect every time. Mom mode starts much before there is actually a baby to hold onto.

There were weekly tests and then on his due date an induction. He was huge, my blood pressure was going up and he didn’t seem to be doing well. We checked into the hospital with all the excitement. The carseat was ready, the music, the birth plan. 12 hours in, the birthplan was out the window. He was struggling. Nothing was happening. Contractions were big and he was stuck. My first parental decision right there - paper work signed. Rushed down the hall. Surgery started.  

And then, out. My big sturdy boy. Almost nine pounds. And he cried for a second and then looked at me. More of a glance really, and a look of ‘you’ll do’.

Now we’re here. It’s 10 years later. There are days where I think no children would be a nice life. There are days where I make a momma bear look calm and tame. Most days, I’m overwhelmed. Overwhelmed at how I look into those blue eyes and realize that I love that little beast more than anything has ever loved anything. Even though now he doesn’t have much time for mom and he’s ‘checking his pits’ every day for hair and he’s got a definite boy smell.

There are still the occasional nights where he wants to be tucked in and get a snuggle. They are becoming less and less and I need to focus on taking full advantage of them. I’m not a perfect parent, there are days where I’m barely adequate. And, I screw up a lot. I expect therapy bills to come my way at some point. Don’t we all?

But some day, I hope he looks back and thinks, ‘my mom was pretty awesome’. Hopefully that will outweigh the, ‘when my mom yells, the house shakes’. Not sure how that happens. Pretty sure it involves buying the love. And, I’m OK with that.