So, I already mentioned those baby books I have yet to finish. Truthfully, I haven’t started them yet. (I know, I know.) I wanted them to be done by now, proudly displayed on the bookcase or on their own shelf. I actually have three different baby books to make, two we received as baby shower gifts and one I purchased because I just loved it so much.
While I have not begun those yet, I did start a pregnancy journal. I documented how I first found out I was expecting, how we told our families, my doctors’ appointments, my food cravings, even Choo-choo’s very first “vacation,” when Diesel and I drove to see a lighthouse in Michigan that was covered in ice during the winter.
Mostly though, I documented my feelings. I wrote about my excitement about having a baby. My joy of seeing him in the ultrasounds. My worries about Choo-choo not moving as much as I thought he should or my fears that I wasn’t eating healthy enough for him. It’s all written down in a journal, month to month and then week to week.
Unfortunately, my last entry was after our baby shower, three weeks before Choo-choo made his arrival. But while I didn’t write down what happened after that, I will never forget it. The soreness, the exhaustion, the pregnancy going beyond my due date. Then the day my water broke and my son was born. It’s all ingrained in my mind.
I recall everything that happened the day Choo-choo made his entrance into the world. Not very willingly, either, it seems as he didn’t come out so easily. But as soon as he was laid on my chest, I knew it was him. He was exactly as I knew he would be. I even told him so.
Most everything for a very long time after that was a complete and utter mess, but at least I have the ability to pass on stories to my son that aren’t doom and gloom. I can show him just how happy I was and still am(!) to have him as my child.
(By the way, please forgive the sloppy handwriting! Lifelong left-hander here!)