Photo courtesy Crista Ballard Photography
Originally published in the August edition of 605 Magazine.
From the minute we revealed we were pregnant with our second child, almost everyone we talked to with more than one child warned us about the paradigm shift that was going to take place. “You will no longer outnumber them,” we were cautioned. “It will be man-to-man coverage from here on out.” “Get ready,” they said. “You won’t even remember your name you will be so sleep-deprived.” “Better get a date night in now, because those are over!”
Although we were absolutely overjoyed with being pregnant with a son, as we approached our due date, all these code red warnings began replaying in our minds. So, wide-eyed and frightened, we heeded the cautions and prepared some offensive strategies: First, we stocked up on wine. Then, we read books about parenting and discussed ways to keep our marriage strong against the wind of fiery child-rearing trials. And at the very last minute, we made frozen breakfast burritos to last us months. Because, when it all hits the fan, it’s always a good idea to eat a breakfast burrito.
Then came the day to give birth to our baby boy. A C-section was scheduled (due to the complications we had with our first child) and on June 22 of 2015, with the majority of my body numbed and nauseated beyond belief, I got my first glimpse of my son. Suddenly, all the warnings, all the worry surrounding the pregnancy, and all the fear of the unknown evaporated with the miraculous sound of my son bellowing out his inaugural furious cry. It was a magical moment I will never forget. The long, risky nine months were over and there screaming before me was my eight-and-a-half pound miracle baby.
At the time of this writing, my son is three weeks old and today was the first day I was home alone with both of my children. Just me, and yes, I’m outnumbered now. My husband is back at work and my mother, who helped me recover from the surgery for weeks, has returned to her home in Mississippi. The day is winding down and I’m proud to report, we all survived. So far, I have only been vomited on three times, I’ve changed my sheets twice, cleaned up urine from the carpet once, talked my toddler off the proverbial ledge of tantrum apocalypse approximately four times, and I’ve changed my outfit twice due to some type of bodily excrement from my son. I also found my dog hiding in the bathtub.
All of this, I promise, is a true story. And all of this, I promise, has made me happier than I ever thought possible.
You see, what people didn’t warn us about having more than one child is that while life does change immensely, it’s not all fire and brimstone kind of change. And while It is indeed a tremendous sacrifice — hell, I have to get practically sawed in half to bring babies into this world -- the moment the sweet nurses placed my son on me, I realized for the second time that new life is always worth any kind of sacrifice.
I know there will be difficult days, difficult months, and maybe even difficult years of parenting. But today, I’m relishing the supernatural gift of new life. And after a beautiful chaotic day like today, I’m also savoring the taste of a delicious, pre-made breakfast burrito.
Originally published in the August edition of 605 Magazine.
From the minute we revealed we were pregnant with our second child, almost everyone we talked to with more than one child warned us about the paradigm shift that was going to take place. “You will no longer outnumber them,” we were cautioned. “It will be man-to-man coverage from here on out.” “Get ready,” they said. “You won’t even remember your name you will be so sleep-deprived.” “Better get a date night in now, because those are over!”
Although we were absolutely overjoyed with being pregnant with a son, as we approached our due date, all these code red warnings began replaying in our minds. So, wide-eyed and frightened, we heeded the cautions and prepared some offensive strategies: First, we stocked up on wine. Then, we read books about parenting and discussed ways to keep our marriage strong against the wind of fiery child-rearing trials. And at the very last minute, we made frozen breakfast burritos to last us months. Because, when it all hits the fan, it’s always a good idea to eat a breakfast burrito.
Then came the day to give birth to our baby boy. A C-section was scheduled (due to the complications we had with our first child) and on June 22 of 2015, with the majority of my body numbed and nauseated beyond belief, I got my first glimpse of my son. Suddenly, all the warnings, all the worry surrounding the pregnancy, and all the fear of the unknown evaporated with the miraculous sound of my son bellowing out his inaugural furious cry. It was a magical moment I will never forget. The long, risky nine months were over and there screaming before me was my eight-and-a-half pound miracle baby.
At the time of this writing, my son is three weeks old and today was the first day I was home alone with both of my children. Just me, and yes, I’m outnumbered now. My husband is back at work and my mother, who helped me recover from the surgery for weeks, has returned to her home in Mississippi. The day is winding down and I’m proud to report, we all survived. So far, I have only been vomited on three times, I’ve changed my sheets twice, cleaned up urine from the carpet once, talked my toddler off the proverbial ledge of tantrum apocalypse approximately four times, and I’ve changed my outfit twice due to some type of bodily excrement from my son. I also found my dog hiding in the bathtub.
All of this, I promise, is a true story. And all of this, I promise, has made me happier than I ever thought possible.
You see, what people didn’t warn us about having more than one child is that while life does change immensely, it’s not all fire and brimstone kind of change. And while It is indeed a tremendous sacrifice — hell, I have to get practically sawed in half to bring babies into this world -- the moment the sweet nurses placed my son on me, I realized for the second time that new life is always worth any kind of sacrifice.
I know there will be difficult days, difficult months, and maybe even difficult years of parenting. But today, I’m relishing the supernatural gift of new life. And after a beautiful chaotic day like today, I’m also savoring the taste of a delicious, pre-made breakfast burrito.
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