My first baby is turning 4

Tomorrow my first baby turns four. Four years ago I became a mom for the first time. Four years ago I fell in the most painful, rewarding love of my life. Four years ago I became a completely different person, an unrecognizable person, overnight. Four years ago my life changed in ways I could have never anticipated.

I always love when people are pregnant and the anticipated excitement of the story to come. There’s always a story. Especially to Mrs. and Mr. Preggers. It could be the easiest delivery with the least amount of action and that story is one that they carry with them everywhere, eager to tell anyone that will listen. When I was pregnant for the first time I didn’t understand why everyone was always telling me how many hours they were in labor or what type of drugs they did or didn’t use. I get it now.

I was in labor with Drew for 32 hours. If I knew then what I know now, I would probably say I was in labor for fifteen hours because those initial contractions were a day in the park compared to the ones to come. And the walking…oh so much walking. Most women giving birth for their first time, I would imagine, find themselves pacing at one time or another. For Drew, I think I walked a marathon.

Although I could have fallen victim to any organic suggestion, one thing I was pretty certain about was that I wanted drugs! And drugs I got. After all, anyone in 32 hours of labor had to have either gotten drugs or desperately needed them. I surrendered after a solid thirty means of active labor, that was more than I ever needed to experience. Little did I know what Gabby would bring me!

All our many family members were crowded in the delivery room, for more hours than they probably enjoyed. They were lucky enough to see my doctor run through the waiting room, essentially with a catcher’s mit, to catch Drew. Once that little man decided to emerge, he was very speedy. I’m not sure he’s stopped moving since.

I had no idea what that story would look like when I was waddling through Babies R Us planning for our big day. I’m not sure the memories are strong enough to really feel how it all felt (and maybe that’s for the best). But the emotions are still as strong as they were June 12, 2008.

It’s possible that people without children are reading this and thinking that I’m a total cheese ball. And I am. But once you go through it, you are never the same again. You find yourself crying at Toyota commercials, cherishing the last binky of the bunch or unable to change your screensaver for years on end because it’s that one picture that tugs at your heart strings. And this person I became, all because of Drew, I never expected in the nine months of pregnancy. I certainly wouldn’t have recognized her in my 27 years before him. And I can’t really explain her now. Thanks Drew for rocking my world in ways I’ll never really be able to explain to you, at least until you go though it on your own.