Monday, January 9, 2012
My baby just turned two. No longer a baby, but a sweetly crazy toddler who is morphing into an even sweeter little girl every day.
The day before her birthday was Sunday, so we threw a tea party for her and the smaller kids who live nearby. I've basically had zero experience putting a kids party together (sadly for the Faery, this is very much true - we owe her a few 'proper' parties by now) so I was happily surprised at how well it all came together - especially as it was something I'd only thought up and put together over a few days prior to the party. It was fun introducing our American friends to fairy bread - a staple for every Australian child's birthday party.
The loveliest part was the opportunity it gave J and I to get to catch up with some of the other parents. It brought home to us that we're very lucky for the little community we have going in our apartment complex.
Once the day was over, my belly full of cake and pastries, and the girls were fast asleep, I stumbled across some online birth stories - quite by accident, but perfect timing. I hadn't really read any since I was pregnant, so I allowed myself to read a few... and remember.
I remembered how drawn out the labour was with Miss Pie. How it hurt like nothing else. How relentless the contractions were, on top of one another. How wonderful the midwife was, with her soothing Jamaican accent.
I remembered not wanting the heavier drugs, and how I welcomed the nitrous oxide. Sweet, sweet gas, that became my best friend.
I remembered how fantastic J was, and how I felt like I'd have broken in two if he hadn't been there. How deeply primal it was.
I remembered feeling more confident this time round, knowing I'd done it before and could do it again - even if I did want to cancel the whole thing and go home.
I remembered the relief as she emerged. Out. In this world. Pain subsiding. Hello, look at you! You're so beautiful... and so... big?
She was a whopping 4.44 kg (9 lb 13oz). That's right, I birthed a just-under ten-pound baby, with nothing but gas. I don't normally like to brag... but I wear this particular badge with pride. No apologies. Sure, I got lucky that things progressed in a fairly straightforward manner, but it was fucking hard work nonetheless, so if on the rare occasion I want to shout out from the rooftops about this achievement, I will. Her birth left me feeling like a superhero.
Whether she'd been born a whopper or petite and dainty, the fact remains that she's mine. Healthy, beautiful and loving. J and I made this gorgeous creature who possesses an adventurous spirit - the yang to her sister's yin. A delight.
We can't imagine life without her.
Happy 2nd Birthday, PJ.