Three Kid Circus : Four Is SO Great!

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Four Is SO Great!

Happiest Birthday wishes to my big boy, who is now 4.

September 5, 2000 dawned clear and mild. My due date had come and gone the previous week, and despite my eagerness to get on with it, there was no sign of labor. In fact, I spent the previous day watching a 12 hour Labor Day marathon of "A Baby Story" willing myself to get in on the fun. Nope. Not happening.

I had a no-stress test scheduled. My mom picked up my 17 month old daughter, and my husband arrived from work to take me to my appointment. Everything checked out well. I was apparently having fairly regular contractions, just not powerful enough to hurt. TMI, but I had been walking around dilated to 8 for two weeks, and the midwife on duty felt that if I left (again... I had refused earlier offers to induce) that we would be back in short order, and could potentially get stuck in rush hour traffic. We made the decision to allow ARM. I also requested an epidural.

As soon as the midwife left the room, I started having very strong, but still not painful contractions. I was surprised when the anesthiologist arrived minutes later. I had my epidural before I ever had a painful contraction. As the evening settled over us, I lay in the bed, watching Seinfeld and feeling lots of downward pressure.

My hubs was feeling really irritable the whole time. I wasn't sure why, until I figured out that since I wasn't in obvious labor (I was really at peace, and not struggling like my first labor) he thought we were hours away from a baby, and he was still in his work pants. Ahahahaha.

Finally, after several hours, I was 'complete' but my water still hadn't broken. The doctor suited up in his riot gear, and minutes after breaking the membranes, my son was born in one push. It happened so fast that we didn't have time to switch off the TV, so my son appeared in the middle of the day's sports highlights.

He had a cry like a baby cheetah. My hubs and I were both alarmed at the noise this child was making. It was a surprising birth all the way around.

Flash forward to the four year old, who woke us at 5 am, eager to tackle his gifts. The boy who loves dinosaurs, who is melodramatic and snuggles like a champ. He is a riot of hilarity, says his "r" like "aw" and "l" like "y"... I weely yuv you, Mommy.

This child, unlike his feline sisters, is canine in his eagerness and affection. He loves to talk, and talk. And talk. He loves babies, and says he never wants to leave home. He is worried that when he grows up he'll be expected to go to work without me. He is my only son, the child most like me. He is bold, but not a daredevil, outspoken but eager to be liked.

He announced "four is SOOOO great," while we wandered on the beach today. He looks forward to all the changes that are on the horizon. Preschool first, then world domination, I suppose. I'm still wearing the apron, and he's still holding the strings, for now. He presses his nose into my neck when he hugs me. I'm suddenly aware of the acceleration that is snatching the little moments from my grasp. I want to freeze him, inhale him, catalog every scrap of his newly minted four year old self.

So, three, no, make that four cheers to my boy. Wishing you a long and healthy life.