Along with my best friend Andi, I am one of those unfortunate souls who suffers from serious nostalgia. I'm constantly having thoughts such as, "A year ago today I was doing such-and-such," usually followed by a sense of melancholy for the days of my youth (I'm not really that old, but that statement makes me sound like I'm 80). This week has been a particular roller coaster for me, but I had been bracing for it. Tomorrow we're celebrating Silas' first birthday with family and a few close friends that promised they didn't mind the agony of a baby party, and on Monday he officially turns one year old. This entire past month I've made forlorn statements such as these to BJ:
"A year ago today Dr. Brown told us Silas was coming sooner than expected" and "A year ago today was my last day of work" and "A year ago today we went to Chipotle for lunch right after our last doctor's appointment before Silas was born." A year ago tomorrow, I stupidly allowed myself to be dragged to an NBA playoff game where I was completely overstimulated, miserable, hot, and nauseated...and my water broke 24 hours later.
Part of me was in absolute misery at this time a year ago; I was desperate to meet Silas, physically so extremely uncomfortable, nervous that something traumatic might happen during delivery that might cost Silas his life... you know, the types of emotions that women typically feel when they are about to meet their child for the first time. I felt like I was sometimes hanging on by a thread, and I relied quite heavily on my good friend Sommer, who was equally pregnant and equally as excited and miserable as I was. Her beautiful daughter was born on April 28th and I cried with both happiness and envy when she texted me her wonderful news of Ellie's safe and happy birth.
Then Sommer did an amazing thing, against all expectations that I had, even of a great friend like Sommer. She KEPT texting me, day and night, with words of encouragement and hope (i.e. 'This baby WILL come. Hang in there! He can't stay in you forever!') Sommer had her own new baby to consume her, her own delivery wounds to heal, her own new life to adjust to...but she didn't forget about me, and I swear that it was on Sommer and on my family that I didn't go absolutely berserk in those final days. Every day a member of my family took me to lunch or breakfast (or both), dragged me to Home Depot or some other made-up errand they needed to run, and kept me busy. Of course, they also made it kind of hard because every time I tried to text or call one of them, they would say something like "I thought you were calling me to tell me you're going to the hospital! Don't call me until you're in labor!"
Well, that's just not fair to a girl who needed companionship. But overall they were awesome.
A year ago tonight, I'm sure I was a mess. And tonight, one year later, I'm a 30-year-old mother of a one-year-old, a seasoned gal with a baby on my hip and an uncanny ability to do all things with one hand now, and I'm nostalgic. God willing, we'll be able to do it all over again someday...soon.