My baby is now officially in big boy territory. Let’s hope like his brother before him, this increases his awesomeness tenfold. Let’s leave the terrible ones, twos and threes behind us forever.
The birth of a child is always a vivid memory. T.Puzzle’s stands out because I went into labor (after a solid month of miserably contracting for no reason) on the night of our third wedding anniversary. I was in complete denial. I can even remember the clothes I was wearing in great detail. That’s mainly because I was so huge (T.Puzzle ended up being a healthy 9lb 7oz), I only had one semi-dressy maternity outfit that fit me reasonably well. Black pants, with a huge amount of stretch no less, and a long-sleeved black tunic with red and white dots to top off this stylish ensemble. Pregnancy is certainly not about the fashion.
When I realized that the Braxton Hicks I was having were actually closer to the real deal, we went to the hospital where I continued to deny I was in labor. I even got to watch an episode of Sex and the City on TBS as we waited to see if I dilated more.
Eventually, I couldn’t deny it any longer. T.Puzzle came into this world and screamed louder than any newborn I have ever known. I remember thinking, ‘baby, you’re suppose to be my easy one,’ and this only seemed to increase his volume.
Happy birthday, T.Puzzle. I love you!