Today is Noah's 2nd birthday! I can't believe my baby is so big. It seems like yesterday that he was an infant. I remember looking into his face and wondering what he was going to be like when he got older, wondering what his voice would sound like, wondering how his features would change. He's such a sweet child.
It's amazing how when you are pregnant you feel like it's forever before that baby gets here. You are uncomfortable, sick, tired, and anxious. Then that baby gets here and after a while you have a hard time remembering the discomfort. The same thing happens when you have an infant. You forget what sleeping through the night feels like. You have a hard time visualizing what it's like to have a toddler. Those moments are so fleeting it's important to remember.
Noah was a planned c-section. I had so many problems with Zoe's delivery that my doctor and I decided that would be best. I didn't want the surgery. I was terrified and even after enduring what I went through with Zoe's birth, I wavered with that decision. We went to the doctor on the Thursday before Good Friday for an ultrasound and it was decided then that Noah would come the following Tuesday. I remember going back to work and telling everyone that I would not be back after the Easter holiday. My shower was that afternoon and suddenly it was becoming so real.
With Zoe my water broke and I didn't have time to dwell too much on what was going to happen right before the delivery. This time I knew for certain that we were going to have a baby on Tuesday, April 6. I was so excited, trying to make sure everything was done before baby came. We went through Easter weekend, busy as always, and I was very aware that this was our last time as a family of three. I was so excited for Noah to be here but also mourning our final moments with Zoe as an only child.
Tuesday morning came and we had to be at the hospital at 10:30 (I think, I may be wrong here). I had already had my lab work done the day before and was sporting my hospital bracelet. Zach went to take Zoe to school while I showered and repacked my bag for the millionth time. Zach was late getting home, he's a gabber and has a problem breaking off conversations, and I was already stressed. I am the type to rather be at a place 20 minutes early than five minutes late. Finally we got the car loaded and off we went to the hospital.
Several babies decided they wanted to arrive on baseball's opening day (one reason we chose that day rather than a day later in the week) so we were running behind schedule. I wasn't there long before the braxton hicks I had been experiencing for a few months turned into full-on contractions. The nurse would pop in periodically and ask if I was feeling those contractions. You will be proud of me, I didn't smack her once. Finally the time came and I was wheeled into surgery where after more waiting and 3 attempts at the spinal (OWEY) the time had finally come to see my sweet child. Two and a half hours later than scheduled I heard those sweet cries. No love was more instantaneous.
He was a good baby. He slept a lot and ate a lot, not much has changed there. He also had colic the first two months, just in the evenings. As rough as those evenings were the fact he was so sweet the other times more than made up for it. I never had that feeling of complete exasperation like I had with Zoe. Life was lovely and those weeks passed so quickly.
Noah is now a very energetic, adventurous, happy two year old. He is my cuddle-bug, my sweet heart. He is my biggest "helper" and during those rough months in New Boston, he was my joy. I can't wait to see what kind of man he becomes.