As is customary in my family, each person on his or her birthday has to (gets to?) hear from Mom what it was like the day they entered this world. Although all of us (now 31, 28, and 25) could tell our stories in our sleep, our birthday doesn't seem complete until we've heard it one more time. So in keeping with Greeno tradition, I have a little story for my littlest (I mean, youngest) boy:
I couldn't have asked for a more planned, textbook pregnancy. We decided when CJ was a baby that we wanted him to be a big brother right away, and our wish was granted. (so easily granted, in fact, that I knew for about 3 weeks that you were in there, even though the pregnancy tests and nurses were trying to convince me otherwise). I'm not even gonna mince any words with you- from the very beginning, you were huge. People started asking me if I was pregnant (I hate people) when I was only 8 and a half weeks along. (Just to keep this in perspective, I didn't have to tell anyone with CJ until about 14 weeks.) My favorite comment came from someone at the gym who, after I told her I was about 12 weeks, thought to say, "Damn, girl, whaddya have- 5 in there???" yeah, 5. good one. So anyway, I kept telling the doctors that I thought you were going to be huge, and they kept insisting that i was measuring "right on", that you'd probably be about 7 pounds or so.
time went on and your dada decided that he wanted to know whether you were a boy or a girl. even though i dreamed of being a mama to little girls, once i had your brother, i was hoping and praying that you were a boy. how great would it be to be able to give my boy a brother?! well, for some reason, i was convinced during my entire pregnancy (up until about the last month for some reason) that you were a girl. i wanted to stay surprised, but dada found out. he kept a secret for 4 whole months!!! (well, from me at least- just about every other person got told!) but regardless, he couldn't keep a birthday present a secret from me, and i cannot to this day believe that he never told me what you were. he even prepared your nursery all by himself without me finding out!!
everything kept progressing as normal, and when i went in to get checked out at 37 weeks, you had moved in to position and i had dilated. you were due on december 30 and we were all hoping you'd be the first baby of the new year. (i mean, c'mon, who wouldn't want a year's supply of diapers plus the added bonus of your face plastered all over the news just seconds after going through labor?!? sign me up!) so our plan was working out nicely, until our appointment the following week. the doctor, at 38 weeks, couldn't find your heartbeat!!! come to find out, she was looking for it in the completely wrong place- you had completely flipped around! your heart was actually way up by my ribcage. not good, ty, not good. little did i know, you were actually doing me a huge favor for which i will forever be grateful.
so because of all of the complications i had with CJ, they couldn't risk me going in to labor and possibly having to give me another emergency c-section. instead, they told me to "pick a day", and panicking, all i could think to say was "not Christmas".
And so somewhere around 9 in the morning of the 26th, i hopped up (well, kinda heaved my gigantic belly up) on the operating table, and started talking to my doctor about our Christmases through a blue sheet as she pulled and pried you out. (and destroyed every ounce of ab muscle that i had, after saying they were the strongest ones she'd ever felt. they'll never be the same. so thank you for that, too.) now, i promise to never tell you a lie, and i'll start now: when you came out, yes, i was elated to hear that you were a boy, BUT, your dad and i looked at each other and kinda wanted to put you back in. you just weren't cute, Baby. (But dont' worry- you've since made up for it!) you were nothing but fat (reeeaaaallllyyyy fat) cheeks, a loud cry, and pointed head from where my ribs were squeezing the heck out of you. i almost died yet wasn't really surprised when they told me that you were 8 pounds and 14 ounces. (I'll choose not pushing out a 9-pound load of child over some free diapers any day.) we expected you to look like another little CJ, and i guess we were just surprised when you didn't. In fact, you two looked and still look nothing alike. weird. your dada said he wanted a paternity test. i told him to go ahead and call maury.
starting that night in the nursery, you were a crybaby. i stayed by myself so that dada could take care of cj at home. even though they tell you not to, i let you lay in the hospital bed with me during the day and let the nurses take you with them at night. they never had to wake me up when you wanted to eat because i could hear your cry as they pushed you down the hall. i wonder when you're going to stop crying...
from that day on, besides the whole crying all the time thing, well... and the non-sleeping thing, oh yeah, and the acid reflux thing that happened when we got home, you were a good baby. you and your brother have extremely similar personalities, except that you are a little more carefree. you are very funny and love making people laugh. you finally started walking when you were 14 months old and still spend a lot of your time walking like you're drunk. (why can we so easily picture you as a frat boy smashing beer cans on your forehead?!) you love sports. in fact, watching sportscenter with your dad was literally the only thing that would calm you down in the middle of the night for a while. you are SO smart, and LOVE to be held. you are very in tune with people's feelings. we are so blessed to have such happy, healthy boys who are already best friends.
i can't believe that you are two years old already, ty jonathan. i love your laugh, your crazy curly hair, your big blue eyes, and your fatter-than-fat cheeks. thank you for completing our family. you'll always be my baby.