Tomorrow, May 12, I turn 28. That is two years away from 30, and yet I still feel like a teenager playing house, pretending I am a real adult. Will I ever feel like a real adult?
***
Last year for my birthday, Chad wanted to take me out to dinner. I was hugely pregnant and the only thing I wanted was McDonald's. So, like the white trash that we really are, we went to McDonald's and I celebrated my 27th birthday by eating three cheeseburgers and a large container of fries.
I only ordered two cheeseburgers and when I asked Chad to go get me the third, he hesitated. My hugely pregnant and wildly hormonal self thought his hesitation was because he thought I was fat enough already and did not need the third cheeseburger. I pitched a little fit and insisted that he go right now and get me the third, which he did. When he returned to the table I asked him if he thought I was fat, and he said no, he thought I was pregnant. Smart one, that boy.
***
Today, May 11, is the day that Ella was supposed to make her arrival last year. But she didn't want to meet us yet, and she stayed in my fat belly until May 23. We had to bribe her to get her out of there: I was induced three times before she actually came out.
When I was pushing her big head out of my crotch, the doctor kept telling me I was doing good, keep pushing, there is her head! I didn't like the doctor and I didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth, so I asked Chad if he could really see her head. He was holding my foot and he had tears running down his face and he said yes, she's here. I will never, ever forget that moment.
***
This year, instead of planning for Ella's arrival, I am planning her first birthday party. I already forget so many things about our first year togther. How old was she when she started crawling? What was her first food? How long did it take my boob milk to dry up? When did she start sleeping all night? I feel like I need to take more pictures, write more down, document her life in more detail, or else I will forget everything. She's growing so fast, even though her hair isn't.
May 11, 2007
Reflections
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1 comment:
make a book! make a book! my mom made a book. it's got the cards and wrapping paper samples from my baby shower. it's got a copy of the birth annoucements that she sent out. it's got our (hers & mine) hospital bracelets. it's got little tid bits of things that happened (like we lived only a few blocks from the bradford hospital when i was born. my dad would come to see us after work, and stay until 9 or so. On his way home, my mom would stand in the window with me, and my dad would stop in the halo of each of the streetlights on the sidewalk and wave up at us...). it's got my first identifiable drawing (an ostrich). and all sorts of great stuff. i love that book. i love that my mom made that book.
my mom did not document my sister as extensively. she hates my book. *snicker, snicker*
you should absolutely, positively make a book. or send me all your stuff, and i'll make the book. for real.
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