Officially 5, second edition
5 years ago, I spent 2 months living in a hospital room waiting for this little guy, listening to his heartbeat every single day, seeing his little squished up body every week, and hoping he’ll get big enough, developed enough, and “ready” enough to be ok when he came into the world prematurely, as I knew was inevitable.
I had the strangest experiences during that time. I was rolled around on a bed, where I had to lie and wait for my turn with the ultrasound gal (I later begged for a wheel chair instead because that rolling around in a bed thing was just freaky). I taught a new nurse the tricks of the fetal monitor and belly straps. I discovered that nurses use MSN messengers to chat while at work. I would be awake at 3am sometimes, just strolling around the corridors (secretly because I was not really allowed to do that too much), and I would admire the teeny tiny babies, who all seemed to be awake at that time!
Everyone commended me on my patience – which to be totally honest is not really my thing. But perhaps it was training for life with my middle child! He seemed to have inherited my most aggravating traits, and as I try to correct his ways, I can’t help but think this is payback for my own parent-aggravating-behavior as a child, or ahem, an adult.
But he’s absolutely the most loving, selfless child. He’ll willingly give up any toy to his brothers (who both usually take horrible advantage of this), if either of his brothers, or pretty much anyone, is upset, he quite literally cannot handle it, he is a very empathic soul. He gives the best hugs, and most of the times is still willing to do so every single time I ask him, regardless of what he’s doing. Every night I have to hold his hands to sleep, and I put my face really really close to him which makes him smile the biggest smile, and I say “you’re my favorite middle son”, and then he smiles even more!
