The story of my birth...

Keegan turning 5 has been SO emotional for me.  I know with 5 comes a whole new chapter in his life, and as much as I want to let him storm ahead into those new experiences... part of me just wants to hold him a little longer.

Just as I'm sure my Mom always wanted to do with me.

I can look back now and see those moments that she was trying to hold on... that I was trying to get her to let go...

Part (most) of me just wants to let her hold me a little longer....

But what is done... or not done... is done.. or NOT done.

Now about this birth of mine...

I've given birth to three adorable babies... I can rattle off their time of birth... birth weight... length... what the labor was like... who was there... what I was thinking... which way the room was facing...

all.of.it.

Every year on their birthday, I write the kids a letter for their baby books, and I can sit there and think of the day like it was yesterday.

I'm sure Mom could too.  But she never wrote me a letter.

What do I know?

I know that when Mom had Karri, her water broke (while she was sitting crossed legged on the floor) 10 days before she was born, 3 months before she was due... they sent her home and put 2 x 4s under her bed.  I know that after Karri was born, Mom didn't get to hold her until she was 3 months old, could only pass a finger through the hole to touch her.

I know that Lindsey was born in a blizzard.  Had the hospital been much further away, she would have been born IN the car.  When they got to the hospital, they didn't want to let Dad into the delivery room, and when he finally "convinced" them to let him in... they put him in a room with a woman whose feet he didn't recognize.

But what about me? 

What I knew about my own "blessed event" was pretty scarce.  I knew that when she found out she was pregnant, my mother (the wife of a cattle farmer) had her due date predicted by my father, by pulling out his chart for cattle breeding. April 8th.  I knew that she never weighed more than 135 pounds the entire time she was pregnant with any of us... but that was about it.

So last night, on the eve of Keegan's 5th birthday, I called my Dad to find out what he knew.

He can tell me how much he paid for lunch at a hotel in 1978, so I had a little hope, and he was able to give me a least a little of the story.

I wonder if he knew that I was crying when he was telling me.

They went to the hospital about 8 pm on the 7th.  Dad claims that I was the first baby born at Dukes to let the dad be in there.  When midnight came around and I hadn't been born yet... Mom was pissed.... though I think that might have more to do with knowing that Dad and his cow chart were going to be right...I was born just after midnight.  On the birth certificate they had started to write Wednesday and just crossed it out and wrote Thursday.  She got the chills really bad and chilled all night... I bet it was because I wasn't snuggling with her any more.

They named me Sara because (according to mom) it was on a western on tv and was easy to spell, not because it was on the bathroom wall (according to dad).

Is it everything?  No.  I'm sure she could have told me much more.

I wish she could still write me that letter.

Missed Milestones

Keegers is turning 5 in just ten days.

FIVE!

This week, he is finishing up pre-school and will have a picnic to close that chapter of his little life.  We had his Kindergarten registration last month (of which he scored verrrrrrry well)  and will be ready for school in the fall. 

Did I mention he is turning FIVE?

He is an AMAZING little boy.  He's (way too) smart, and funny, and sneaky, and sweet, and so many other things...

And Grandma would adore him even more today than she did before.

Sutton is coming into his own SO much!  He was able to play soccer this spring and he did so great having something that was his, not Keegan's.  He's going to preschool in the fall, and I can't wait to see him really blossom at Mary Lou's now that Keegan won't be there to boss him around.

Little Courty Foo Foo is happy, and healthy, and so good natured.  She's trying to crawl, and this weekend sat up on her own!  I just love seeing her little toothless grin... and know that it won't be long before a tooth is popping in there!

Every time they hit one of these mile stones, my heart breaks.

My mom is missing them all... and they are missing having her here to get ridiculously excited over them.

Yes.  I know.  She sees it.  Heaven... all that..... I get it. 

But it is NOT the same.

And it is NOT fair.



 

The Caregiver

I wrote this post awhile ago when sickness was running rampant at our house, and just never published it.  It was whiney(er) and (more) self absorbed than usual...but I suppose the purpose of this whole "project" is for me to document that, so here it is.  (luckily, everyone is now healthy and back to "normal")

Our pretty little happy girl has been sick.  She has not been her self by any stretch of the imagination.  Last night... she cried for a solid 5 hours.

a SOLID 5 hours.

It was a very long day... that followed some very long nights.
Last night... I sat there holding her and just cried along with her.  I was SO frustrated because I couldn't seem to do anything to make things better.

I hate that feeling.

 Sick babies make me miss my mom.

 I know that at any point over the last 5 days I could have called her to whine and she would have listened to every single word of it.  I wanted to be able to do that.

 In the 5 1/2 years I've worked here... I've taken 3 maternity leaves.  That pretty much zapped my sick bank. 

sigh.

 I miss my Mom.