Oldest Boy brought home his graduation announcements yesterday...and I'm feeling pretty ____ about it. Insert your own word there, you can imagine how many are rolling around in my head right now.
I remember the day I told Hubby I was pregnant with him, we were both young (by today's standards, anyway), I was 22. Hubby wanted this child from the day we married 4 years prior. I wasn't ready at 18 to have a baby, but he was always ready to have a child of his own. Within 3 years I felt like I had enough wits about me to handle late night feedings, millions of diaper changes, facing the unknown (still wasn't completely prepared, but were you?).
The labor was long and difficult. *cue labor horror story* I went in to be induced on a Friday morning (Oldest Boy was 2 weeks late, I guess he liked the cushy digs), finally gave birth to him on Sunday morning. I was so freaking exhausted by then, after pushing for hours....I didn't have the strength to hold him for long. And seeing as how I hadn't eaten since Friday evening, really, I just needed some pancakes first.
The day we got home from the hospital with him, after my mother-in-law left and we were alone, Hubby and I both stood at the crib, looking at this tiny person and each other...it was a moment in my life I will never, ever forget.
Fast forward to the present. Recent arguments have caused me some significant heartache lately, Oldest Boy is learning to be a separate person from his mother, I guess. Of course I want him to be independent, self-sufficient, hard working, a good husband...all those things...but right now, in this moment, I just want to hold that tiny boy again.