A handful of doctors told me when I was a young adult that I wouldn’t be able to conceive children without the help of medical science. After spending the greater years of my childhood playing house, wife, and mommy, I took this news rather severely. If there was one thing I knew without a doubt was that I’d be great at being someone’s mommy.
When I met my husband, I told him that I probably couldn’t conceive any children for him. Being ok with that fact, he gave my brain the idea of adopting or becomming foster parents. I never really let that knowledge sink all the way in because I still had hope. Even if the odds were stacked against me. In fact, that’s something my dad taught me; when someone tells you, “you can’t do something” show them you can and never take no for answer.
I got married at 19 years old, (I know I know…crazy!) and we lived our honeymoon out in Weston, West Virginia. We had parties, we went on crazy road trips with friends, watched a few bands at some concerts a little more inebriated then we should have, before we came back home to California.
The honeymoon was wearing off and reality was setting in. We hit hard times and struggled to pay bills as most young couple do. But what we weren’t counting on, was a surprise that I think struck us out of left field.
Sitting on the medical table, with crunchy paper under my naked butt, wrapped in a paper shirt split up the middle as the doctor walked back in, she said, “Your with child.”
“Yeah right.” I replied shifting the paper shirt to cover more of my boobs.
“Really honey! You’re very pregnant.” The doctor responded.
“That’s funny. I had a pregnancy test yesterday and it said negative.”
“You’re pregnant. Very much so. So much that you’re in your 2nd trimester already. You HCG levels are through the roof.” Hugging me as I stared at her in shock.
I handed my husband a gift bag that had a baby bottle in it that read, “I love my daddy” in baby blue bubble letters and a small light blue stuffed dog. (Moments of knowing I was pregnant I knew it was a boy). He was excited but just couldn’t believe that it was really happening. He later told me he was scared and nervous because he never really thought about what it would be like to be someone’s dad.
I, on the other hand, never worried about my abilities being a mom until I hit my 8th month. I was afraid I’d be out shopping with the baby in the infant seat loading the groceries into the trunk and by accident putting the baby in the trunk with the groceries. Or setting him down, in the infant seat at the store and then walking off without him and forgetting where I left him. In my next trimester I was afraid I’d be walking down the street and he’d just ‘fall out’. So there were times that my mom asked me to stop holding my crotch in public.
But after, giving birth to the most beautiful baby boy, I was confirmed. I was a real life mommy. This little baby needed me. He expected me to be there for him. He wanted me to sing to him, the same song…again…and again…and again, and had the same excitement for it as if it was the first time he had ever heard the song. He wanted me to kiss is boo boo’s. He liked giving me kisses and picking grass weed flowers for me. And one day even wanted me to marry him because I was the best girl he knew.
It was and still is my promise every day that everything I do for him or to him is because of him. I wanted him to be confident and understanding. I want him to be tough enough to say no and strong enough to say yes. I want him to feel emotions and be sensitive. I want him to have a sense of humor that makes his million dollar smile light up the sky. I want him to dance to his own beat and allow others to join him. I wanted a son ever since my sister was born. I wanted a son like Calvin and Hobbs. I wanted a son that everyone would want to be friends with. I should probably stop here cause this list can go on for days.
The reason I’m writing about my son is because I am watching my son become a transformer, transforming into a wonderful man. I’m watching my Spiderman leap from one busy schedule to Xbox games to reading with his sisters to doing chores and doing it all with a sense of attitude and humor that makes me laugh. I watched my son go to his first school dance, nervous with butterflies in his belly, dressed up in the Bestest Halloween Costume EVER! And win first prize for his costume. I’ve read his stories, I’ve seen his drawings, I’ve heard his heart and I’m proud to know that he’s going to be RAD! He is going to be the best boyfriend, the bestest best friend, the kindest big brother, the tenderest dad, the strongest husband. And how do I know this you might ask. Because he’s already THE BEST SON ON THIS PLANET!
P.S. and the best dancer around.
P.P.S. I never did leave him any where or put him in the trunk while he was in the infant seat…just in case you were worried about that.