Here's a little sneak preview of a book I've been working on...with the Lord's help I will finish it. One of these days. Only the names are changed to protect the innocent. Haha!
:::::::::: LESSON ONE:::::::::::
Congratulations. You are a mother now.
I will never forget how I became a mother. Ok, not so much that part. Although that was nice I suppose. But when I actually gave birth. The whole thing began as a disappointment. I guess I mean... it was different than what I expected. You know that book, What to expect when you are expecting? yeah...about that.
Expectations = a love affair with an unrealistic idea that slowly attaches itself to my heart like a malignancy.
When Gavin was born, everything was different than how I imagined it. My ideas and visions of victoriously giving birth %100 drug free to the most perfect little boy the world had ever laid eyes on were dashed in a matter of moments. The first surprise came at 3AM lying in bed next to my husband amidst a sea of boxes, all packed up and freshly scribbled in sharpie, ‘bedroom’ and ‘frag-ee-lay’.
At first I thought I was peeing myself. Warm liquid was trickling out of me and then as I woke up I screamed, “Ahh, I’m peeing! I can’t stop!” I managed to roll out of bed when I realized that it was probably my water breaking. I had never seen so much fluid come out of me before.
“Is this what it was supposed to be like? Why had I never thought to put rubber sheets on our memory foam mattress? And why is this happening right now? My due date is not for another 4 weeks! How are we going to move out tomorrow if I’m giving birth!”
We were scheduled in less than 5 hours to have a whole crew of people come over and move us into our new house (our first home we bought). I hadn’t even set up the nursery, or the kitchen. We didn’t have appliances. This was not the vision I had seen so vividly in my mind.
It’s almost humorous isn’t it? It’s like the God of the universe knows just what a control freak I am. So much so, that I pushed and fought to buy our perfect home before the baby came, so that we would have our perfect white picket life all laid out like a pressed church outfit on the bed. I was just waiting on the little bundle to be handed into my perfectly folded arms, fresh fuchsia mom fingernails glistening in the morning sun that filtered through the hospital window.
So here I was, sitting in a puddle of juice, walled in by towers of chiquita banana boxes and a wide-eyed, freaked out husband frantically throwing shampoo bottles and toothbrushes into a Wal-mart bag. I’d say a pretty good little Saturday so far.