We found out that we were expecting our third child on May 7, 2009. I can remember everything about this day. From the moment I initially suspected that a purchase of a pregnancy test might not be a bad idea (I was driving home from work and was passing a Walgreens at this very moment) to the moment I informed Dan that I had purchased said pregnancy test (we were getting ready for bed when a look of surprise and concern crossed his face) to the moment that I watched Dan examine the result on the pee-soaked stick and immediately put his hand to his forehead and smile with flushed cheeks. In keeping with our tradition, Dan is always the first one to find out. I simply examine his reaction and know exactly what the test yielded. We were going to have a baby. I was pregnant. Right this very minute a baby was growing inside of me. I was happy. So very happy. Tears welled up in my eyes as I lay on the bed and watch Dan pace back and forth in the bedroom. To me, the thrill of learning of a pregnancy is magical. I treasured this moment and wanted to memorialize it my mind. I felt fantastic. To Dan, I sensed that while he was happy, he was also very nervous. He was anxious. He was worried. And very, very tired. Admittedly, we were both exhausted taking care of Drew and Owen (then only 2 and 1), so it was understandable that he would have concern about how he could possibly muster any more energy to care for another. But those concerns seemed to disappear in the days that followed and we were left with happiness in anticipation of adding to our growing family.
We were preparing to leave for vacation the following week. We drove all the way to Hilton Head, South Carolina (12 hours or so in the car) and spent a week with Dan's family. During this week, we said nothing of the pregnancy. Looking back, I have no idea how we managed to keep this secret. I thought I might have to share my secret when the first trimester fatigue set in and I yearned for a nap everyday. But I suppose that Dan's family thought, 'It's vacation - maybe she is just tired.' We shared our news with both sides of the family when we arrived home from vacation. My family was gathered outside by the new swing set my brother was building for the boys, when we told them that we were going to have another baby. Since our children are close in age (okay, very close in age having 3 babies in 3 years), our announcement didn't come as much of a surprise. They likely thought we were crazy, but wished us well anyway.
My first trimester with Evan was the hardest of our three boys. I felt nausea nearly everyday and threw up quite a bit. I remember one such time when I was at Dan's parents' house for dinner and suddenly ran into their master bathroom getting violently sick. Dan's mom followed me calmly and sweetly helped me to feel better and clean up the mess I had just created barfing in her bathroom. At one point, my puking episodes left me so dehydrated that I ended up in the ER. My mom dropped what she was doing to get me there. It is interesting that the desire for your mother does not end with childhood. When I don't feel good, I just want my mom. I didn't care that I was 29 years old. I just needed my mom.
The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly and I was eagerly awaiting the sweet smell of an infant all snuggled up on my chest rocking in front of the fireplace. I could not wait to meet our baby. The anticipation of whether mommy had a boy baby or a girl baby in her tummy was growing. We celebrated Drew's third birthday on the 26th of December, and then immediately re-directed our focus to preparing our home for bringing a baby home from the hospital in the very cold winter. I recall those last few nights before Evan was born as difficult. I couldn't sleep. Not solely because I was uncomfortable (which I was) or because I was nervous about how Drew and Owen would do with a new baby (which I was), but because I was nervous about my surgery. I am ashamed to admit that even though I had done it twice before, I managed to let my nerves get the best of me and I suddenly dreaded the thought of walking into that same operating room and going through the healing process all over again. I was mad at myself for not being more brave. I was flat-out scared and really couldn't understand why given that my two previous C-sections went perfectly well. I decided that ignorance truly is bliss. Sometimes, the less you know, the better off you are. The very first time, I marched into that operating room like a champ because I had no idea of what I should be scared of. And the second time, I had 'naive confidence.' I think that I thought I was an expert because I had done it before. But this third time, I actually dreaded the surgery and just couldn't wait for it to be over.
At 11:30 am, the doctor was ready to go. Right on time. I kept my head up and walked into the operating room with as much confidence as I could muster. Apparently, my anxiety was noticeable and caused my blood pressure to rise. I tried to tell myself to 'get a grip,' but that just made it worse. They administered oxygen to help me calm down and this probably freaked Dan out when he walked into the operating room to find breathing tubes shoved up my nostrils. Once Dan arrived though, all we had to do was wait. Wait for a glorious outcome. It seemed like no time at all (seriously, the minutes just evaporated) before they were urging Dan to get ready as they delivered our baby. I looked directly up at Dan as he peared over the curtain and watched his face learn that we just delivered our third precious little boy. I heard the cry, the precious first cry that is engraved on my heart. I turned my head slightly to the right and took my first look at my sweet baby boy as the delivery nurse held him up. He looked just like Drew. He had the same adorable cheeks, the same shaped head, the same small lips and I fell in love immediately. I couldn't wait to hold him.
He was placed into my arms and I was in heaven. So wonderfully blessed again. What a perfect little human being. Another beautiful boy. I wasn't sure what Dan and I had done to deserve such perfection, but I absorbed these early precious moments and am grateful everyday for these wonderful gifts of life.
At this moment, I was in the recovery room and Dan went to get Drew and Owen to meet their little brother. We decided that they would be the first to meet Evan and we would enjoy private family time before everyone else came back to meet him. Unfortunately for me, this is where the drugs from my surgery really kicked in and made me drowsy. I recall falling asleep and being in and out of consciousness as visitors made their way to us. It is a common side effect to have itchiness from the anesthesia during surgery and the anesthesiologist asked if I wanted Benedryl to help relieve the itching. Since I didn't want to be too drowsy, I asked for half a dose. Apparently, this was still too much and I couldn't keep my eyes open.
My sister did a comparison of our three boys at birth!
And on the anniversary of this lovely day, I am reminded of what an amazing and adorable little child was born to us one year ago. On December 30th 2010, I took Evan for his one year appointment. The pediatrician was in the middle of a sentence when I had to stop her because it was 12:07 and it was the exact moment my baby Evan was born. I had to pause and recognize the moment as I do with each of the three boys. That minute is very special to me. I knew that she probably thought I was crazy, but I figured she'd seen worse. My eyes filled up with tears as I thought about how quickly time has passed and just how brief the sweet baby days are.
We celebrated Evan's first birthday with a party at our house. We had a full house and Dan made some of his yummy chili.
Happy first birthday my sweet baby Evan. I love you so very much.
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