Modern Family · Motherhood · parenthood · Relationships

Waited for You, Girl…

Life changed. Again. Just like it always does and always will.  Change, to me, always seems to come with having to do hard, but ultimately wonderful things.

Three weeks ago, we were blessed with another child. Our second daughter together. Each of us already blessed with seven year old girls from our previous relationship. Together, in our blended family, we’ll be a part of raising four girls. Four girls. Let that sink in. It had to for us as well.

She came a day before we had expected. With Dimples, I had hoped for her to pick her own birth date. I had hoped to work as close to my due date as I could, and so I repeated the mantra, to her, “No rush. Mama is happy with you right where you are.” She listened. A full 40 weeks passed and she seemed content to stay right where she was. We ended up scheduled with a c-section and walked in to the hospital to have a baby. We traded rushing around and timing contractions for an unfortunate amount of anxious waiting for our turn in the OR. Scheduled and pushed back for emergency c-sections we spent extra hours waiting for our turn.

With our new addition, I scheduled a c-section confidently. We scheduled it on the day my own father was born. And, because things never go exactly as we envision, I went into labor the day before. So essentially, my pre-op appointment turned into an actual operation. This is what happens when I stop winging things and actually plan anything. Everything gets shifted despite my efforts to the contrary.

In that large room lying on the table, oxygen pumping, IV hooked up, doctors talking among themselves, legs and midsection–thankfully–numb as fuck, Match sitting by side making small talk like I asked him to.  I could feel the tugging that meant we’d meet the little secret inside my belly. The last time few moments of pregnancy, the last time someone would know me from the inside.

“I can see a lot of hair. So much hair! It is a girl.” A girl. Again. 

“Four girls,” I mumbled, exhausted and heavy from the drugs. It was just a few moments, but, once again,  I had to mourn the fact we just aren’t going to have a little boy to raise. That life-that-could-have-been had to wash over me. Just for a mere minute and then that possibility floated away in small wisps of a life-that-isn’t.

We had planned for this to be the last child that would know me from the inside. We had also felt this one would be a boy. So, before we finalized our family planning, I asked Match, “Are you okay? We don’t have to…”

Match, succinctly, “I’m good.”

Me, “Okay.” I was good too. Maybe not as confidently as he was in that particular moment.

And so, in a mere few hours that spanned that day, life changed. We’d have no sons to raise… but a bevy of beautiful little girls. In the end, my initial assessment of Match held up: He was made to raise little girls. He is forever going to be surrounded by beautiful women. Like all things, we feel more gratitude than sadness. More contentment with how things are than focusing on what we think they should be. At the end of the day– perfect is what you have. And this was perfect. So, ultimately, we are grateful that we have a healthy addition. Grateful that we made it to delivery without much fanfare. Happy that we were together in that room to find out the mystery of who had been causing all that heartburn and ruthless kicking for so many months. There is something I’m in love with about that moment of finding out without knowing who was inside. A girl. Again.

Healthy and whole, we welcomed Bean into this world. She’s shared our little corner of it for three weeks now. Life before her seems absurd. Some hours are harder than others. But like always, the tough moments pass and joy replaces them. It is a such a hard and wonderful thing to be a part of. Thank goodness that life changed. We were missing out beforehand and never even knew it.


Oh gosh, I just spilled my guts. Please comment and tell me what you think. :)

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