I feel a tremendous amount of guilt over my reception towards my baby boy upon his arrival to this scary world. I often think back to the day he was born and wonder if I looked at, snuggled and loved him like he needed. I remind myself that I just wasn't in the best condition to give him the love he needed at that time and store the guilt back away in my mind.
Fast forward to yesterday. At approximately 11:55pm, I realized that as I was flipping through videos the day before, there weren't any from the few weeks surrounding his birth. Mini panic attack ensued. Fortunately, my super dad filmed every moment and backed them all up on a cd. Why must I remember things like that as I'm falling asleep EVERY night?!
Anyway, I just began flipping through pictures in the folder "Hospital" and am happy to say that I've addressed the guilt I've been feeling over the last 8 months. I've revisited all the events, feelings, and quickly remembered that this is the condition I was in, like it or not:
A swollen female version of Martin Short in the movie Pure Luck. Only instead of a bee sting, I was pumped full of 100 bags of IV's, morphine, and cut open like a beached whale left to die. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I was excited about that baby, I just couldn't show it.
I sure am grateful for my baby boy; he is my everything.
These were taken (obviously not by me, but my dad) at 7 months.
In actual news, Hank is insanely busy building a Formula One car, taking classes and working like crazy. We're trying hard to support him, but tend to just put more on his to-do list :)
1 Words from the Wise:
At least we can be grateful that they don't remember their first days of life (and the stressful first few weeks!) I'm sure you've more than made up for lost snuggles since!
PS - those pictures are ADORABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's so stinkin cute!
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