A year in the making.

When I was pregnant, good intentioned women told me that I would forget the pain and would remember only the sweet-smelling, pink baby in my arms. 

They were wrong. 

A year later, I still remember the heavy feeling of my belly and the skin stretched tight, every mind-numbing contraction, the needle in my spine, and each shuffling step for weeks after.  I remember every ice pack and every blessed oxy.  I remember the drive home from the hopsital and thinking it was the longest f-ing drive ever (all 20 minutes of it).  My most rational thought: Why hadn't we decided to have a home birth because then I would already be at home.  I think I asked Uriah if he was deliberatly hitting every single pothole in the road, because it sure felt like it.  I remember crying for weeks over everything - and not knowing why I was crying.  I remember Finn crying for weeks and not knowing why he was crying. I remember feeling as though I'd just closed my eyes and he was awake and crying because he was hungry again.  I told Uriah countless times that I didn't think I was cut out for this mother thing; I was quite certain that I couldn't do it.  And every time he came home to me crying or I called him in a near panic, he'd assure me that I was the best mom and that Finn loved me and needed me to pull it together.  And then he reminded me that I didn't have a choice - we couldn't put him back in.  I tried to believe him, but instead I read ahead in the What to Expect the First Year book - way ahead - as in, how much longer until he's talking and can tell me what the hell I'm doing wrong here?!

But those women were also right...in the midst of all the pain and sleeplessness and panic and sadness, I do remember that sweet smelling baby - like warm, sugary icing and love.  I remember the moment Uriah told me that we had a boy - we had told the nurses and my doctor that our baby was a surprise and that I wanted Uriah to tell me what we had.  He was so shocked and surprised, even though I'd been telling him for months we were having a boy.  I remember being too tired to say, "I told you so," but not too tired to count fingers and toes; to run my finger over his sticky head and whisper to him that I was so glad to finally meet him.  I remember blocking everything else in those first moments and thinking, "He's puffier than I thought," followed closely by, "He has a lot of hair,"  and, most importantly, "I wonder if he knows me."  I thought he might be a little scared, so I talked to him and rubbed his little back.  I reassured him and reassured myself that this was, in fact, real.

Yes, I still remember the pain...I probably always will; I'm a grudge holder like that.  But nothing can overshadow the memory of meeting Finneaus for the first time and the feeling of knowing that I've loved this person for my whole life.

Happy First Birthday to my best boy.

What a year we've had!  I can't wait to see what this next one is going to bring.