A year ago, I was sitting in a hospital bed at Greenville Memorial Hospital. I was watching the Weather Channel (yes, watching it, the way most people watch “Jersey Shore” – explanation in my previous post) and feeling like a real badass rebel for sneaking sips of ice water (WITH the water in it – not just the ice! So anti-establishment!) whenever our nurse left the room. Her name was Becca. I haven’t forgotten. I’ve actually not forgotten a lot of names of people who helped us or took care of me or Russ during that short stay. They were wonderful, fantastic people.
And tomorrow at 12:45 pm – not a moment sooner, dangit! – my Russ will be exactly one year old. How did that happen? People always told me “Oh, time flies when you have children, you just don’t even know…” and I sort of shrugged internally. Of course it flies, I’d think. When does time not fly? I’ll tell you when, from the hours of 2-5 pm when you work in Corporate America, that’s where. But you know…digressions and all. But anyhow, now I really, truly, fully GET what people meant. The time does fly. It flies in a way that defies all logic or understanding. It feels as if Russ should be just a few months old or something, that’s how fast it went. Whereas memories of a year are typically lacking vibrance, lacking depth, maybe a little fuzzy – everything about bringing this little guy into the world is so clear in my head. It could have all happened last month or even last week.
Tomorrow will mark one year since I began nursing, also, and though I honestly never, ever saw myself nursing until his 1st birthday – here we are! Now don’t go making jokes about him lifting up my shirt and asking for “Boobie,” because it’s just nothing like that at this point. He’s one…not four. That said, he’s down to just nursing in the morning and at night at this point, and we’ll probably nix the morning feeding pretty soon here. It’s bittersweet, because I was one of the lucky few women who had few serious challenges with nursing and who really enjoyed the whole process. But Russ is eating cut up pork chops, mashed potatoes, banana slices, and graham cracker pieces now, so it’s about time to be done. I’m hopeful that the process will be as easy and painless for him as possible. As the case has always been with nursing Russ, I am letting him lead and when he is ready to drop another feeding (most likely the morning one), I’ll know.
So yeah. Geez, what else is there to say? The words are impossible to find to say what this little guy means to me, but you all know that. That’s the thing, you all get it. You know what I’m saying. It has quite simply been the best, hardest, most rewarding, beautiful, soul-illuminating, sleepless, exhausting, wonderful, joyful, amazing year of my life. I am in awe of the year I’ve been given. I don’t deserve it. And the crazy part is that I’ve learned that, even if I don’t know exactly what they mean by it yet, people who have more or older kids aren’t kidding – it WILL get better. That’s amazing to me. I’m excited for what the future holds for our little family of three (and yes, it is and will remain a family of three for probably another year or two, unless I tell you otherwise).
So with that, we’re off to bed (and no crazy Ambien trips this year – wahoo!). Tomorrow I’m going to post a few pictures of Russ over the past year, kind of a “Watch Me Grow!” exhibit. You’d wonder what the heck I was feeding the kid, but I already spilled the beans on the pork chops. I mean, come on… he IS southern.
I love my life.