We had big dreams, big plans. We had pretty big fights but I just figured that was normal. We were barely making ends meet with me the only one working and had to pay thousands of dollars for him to take the bar exam. I was recently diagnosed with hypothyroidism which explained a ton of issues I had been having which included mood swings and such. Little did I know that by treating my thyroid condition I would increase my fertility. Shortly after my then husbands graduation party I was feeling drained and was wondering if something was going on. Since I was late I bought a pregnancy test. I remember that day vividly, I took the test and left the bathroom for downstairs and set the timer. Once it went off I went upstairs and looked at the test then the box, then the test ...then the box... Back and forth in disbelief. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks. Two lines. The box says 'pregnant'.
So I walked out stupified down the stairs to my then husband and said 'ummm I'm pregnant'. I believe my memory is that he was genuinely excited and we plotted how to tell my mom & dad.
We both were sure we were having a boy so when it was confirmed at an ultrasound with amazing certainty we selected his name. My then husband didn't want a junior so we decided to name him after my dad and the middle name would be my then husband. I was so excited for the first boy in the family and excited to honor my father who had 3 daughters by passing on his name.
When my son was born it was a crazy birth. Long story short 19 hours of labor with 2 hours of pushing only to have an emergency c-section because he was wedged in. I lost so much blood I needed a transfusion and they were worried I would not be able to have any more kids in the future (which is why my 9 year old is such a true blessing.)
He was a big boy. When I brought him home he slept well and ate even better. Leaving his side was hard when I went back to work part time. But he grew and thrived. I took joy in each of his progress. He was my everything. When he started to learn how to walk he wanted to run. Many bruises and bumps from falls and clipping the walls or tables. It was about that time I got pregnant with my daughter. My son was 10 months old and kept me moving.
Between the ages of 15 to 18 months old my son was showing signs of a decent temper. He was also showing signs of liking order and intelligence. I remember one visit to my parents house where he lined matchbox cars up front to end in a long line and someone knocked a few out of line. He threw a huge fit which concerned me. But he was a happy boy who never stopped moving until he passed out which kept mom busy.
When my daughter was born he would kiss her head and take her toys. He showed little to no signs of jealously because I had two arms and enough room on my lap for both of my babies. He always had the uncanny ability to make his baby sister laugh at just making a face. So where we are now in how they interact is perplexing to me.
We got him in preschool halfway through the 3 year old class which he loved. I felt he was doing great and thriving. Learning to read quickly and all things related to learning.
Through the years my then husband and I had more than our fair share of fights, disagreements, insults and tear down behavior. I kept pushing ahead because my children were my focus, my life. For them I would weather anything.
The next post will start with my son in kindergarten when everything began to fall apart.
