Three months since the worst moment of my life. The moment I saw his umbilical cord hanging out as I sat alone in my bathroom in the middle of the night.
Three months since the long minutes ticked by…waiting for the ambulance…waiting, for them to load us in…waiting on the drive…the OB checking to see if he still had a heartbeat…waiting and staying calm…knowing that keeping my cool and a c-section were his only hope…waiting and praying…
Three months since the moment I awoke from surgery to discover not only was he healthy and fine, but he bore no effects from his dramatic delivery. They suctioned fluid from his tummy and he had to stay in the nursery due to "crackly lungs" but after that was given a clean bill of health.
Three months since putting my baby's life in God's hands…to Him giving him right back to me. I'm old enough to know life doesn't always have a "happy ending" and I treasure every moment with him.
Sorry to wax so poetic here, but every milestone for my baby is a reminder of that night.
On a lighter note, he's developing perfectly. He is now 13 pounds 2 ounces. His smiles are generous and he's just begun laughing out loud this week. He has gorgeous smooth baby skin. He has napped for 2 hours three times this week! That's big news in our house. I am beginning to hope he is growing into sleeping like a regular baby. He will coo and talk up a storm to anyone willing to interact with him. He is just beginning to put toys in his mouth and spends much of the day with his hands clenched together chewing on them. He drools like a St. Bernard.
He is loved, loved, loved.