Losing the baby was bad. Little by little after a time I was able to be a form of happy again. Yet, I was obsessed with the idea that I did something wrong when pregnant. I had a whole list of things I thought I should or shouldn't have done that I brought to the doctor afterwards, including painting the kitchen and refinishing an old dresser. I was sure the paint fumes caused the birth defect. The doctor reassured me as best she could. I am not like this today. I know things happened and I don't know why. I had the best of intentions for my baby girl.
I also wanted to be pregnant again. I wasn't going to give up on having a baby. I waited as long as the doctor told me to and diligently kept my environment and consumption clean and straight. I took the prenatal vitamins religiously. I also loathed seeing happy people with beautiful babies. I was so incredibly jealous and saddened by them. I was just in a strange place in my mind and I was lonely for something missing.
I became pregnant in spring 2007 with my little angel Colin. As I said previously, I was a nervous wreck. I wouldn't allow myself to be happy until my early ultrasound in Denver with the high-risk OB at 16 weeks when we were able to see how the baby's heart looked and other systems. Well, he was perfect. He was handsome and had a cute little nose already. Time to lighten up here!
A hilarious thing we learned was that the doctor told us he thought it was a girl. The genitals weren't really formed yet to get a good look, but he was sure it was a girl. So we went home happy and more relaxed. I started to bust out all my girl stuff I'd been saving. I hung up clothes. I was tired of feeling awful and ready to start again.
At the 20-week ultrasound we were informed that this was indeed a boy. A boy! A boy?! I called my friend Theresa giddy and I think she thought I was nuts. She said "are you okay?" It was great. I gave my sister back all the little girl things she gave me and went shopping. I have his first little outfit still.
I really was happy the rest of my pregnancy. I relaxed and took it easy. I ate like I was starving and felt pretty great. I lived through the acid reflux and had a fun baby shower.
On Christmas Eve I went into labor. My family spent Christmas Day by the phone waiting to hear the news. They all came to the hospital Christmas night and waited. And around 10 o'clock Colin was born 3 weeks early at 8 lbs 10 oz. He was healthy and perfect. He was the best Christmas gift I will ever get and I was so happy. I was a nervous new mom about nursing and all that stuff. But I was so happy he was here I could just burst.
We brought him home to his little jungle nursery and I sat with him and fed him and I remember crying, "I'm so happy you are here little boy." I smothered him with all my love and he took a heavy burden from me.
Colin is my little angel. He's 5-1/2 now and still a sweet little boy. I may spoil him and give into him often, but I just can't help it. He is the light of my life. On days when I am feeling really down about Will and all the screaming and crying and biting we endure, when I am desperate enough to think, "wow, I don't want to do this anymore," I think of Colin and those thoughts erase in an instant.
Colin is smart. He has an amazing gift with words. He said his first word "doggie" at 9 months. I have a video of him around 17 months and he is telling me about a "yellow hose" in the back yard. It is adorable. He understands so much. He understands the meaning behind the meaning in our language. He can tell jokes. He remembers the most obscure words he hears and uses them in context. He is really the polar opposite of Will when it comes to language.
Colin and I spent nearly every waking and sleeping moment together up until Will was born. Colin loved his dad, but he was mama's boy. This is different nowadays. He would way rather spend time with his cool dad than me, but I know he loves me. He is a great kid and I value our time together.
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