Tonight is a much different night than it was a year ago. Tonight, I feel incredibly fortunate to be writing this from my couch as I watch my nearly 9 month old son as he crawls all over the living room, pulls himself up to stand for a few seconds at time on his own, plays with all of the new toys he got for Christmas and smiles at me. He was born on March 30 at 39w5d by scheduled c-section weighing 9 pounds even and was approximately 19 inches long (his recorded length at the time of birth was 17 inches, but it was clearly wrong - otherwise he grew 2 inches during his first 24 hours of life!!). I am so glad we didn't find out his gender until he was born. Nothing was better than hearing my husband announce, "It's a boy!" as the doctor held him up for us to see for the first time.
He is beautiful and sweet and everyday I still can't believe this is real. We had a welcome baby party when he was 6 weeks old instead of the pre-baby shower. It was a celebration of his birth and we invited family, friends and co-workers who all got to meet our baby in person. He slept in our room until he was 16 weeks old when his crib finally arrived after we got around to ordering it. We decorated the nursery in a baseball theme and it is now our favorite room in the house. My paranoia that he will stop breathing for some reason is slowly subsiding as he gets bigger and stronger and with a little reassurance from the Snu.za that is clipped to his diaper every night before we all fall asleep. So now, a year later, I felt I owed it to myself and to whoever may still occasionally check in with my blog to update my story. I may add some additional posts after this one to reflect on parenting after infertility and recurrent loss. For now, I will leave you with the text from a card I received from a dear friend after our son was born because it was the only card that brought tears to my eyes:
Someday he'll be a strong, confident man . . .
but you'll always remember the first time you held him in your arms.
Someday he'll have his own hopes and dreams,
not knowing that once upon a quiet time,
you closed your eyes and dreamed to have him in your life.