Sunday, April 4, 2010

Nicholas Scott Engelbrecht II

Sort of a depressing day. Today is Scott's third birthday, but I didn't even tell him. Am I a terrible mother? Don't answer that. I mean, he's three. And let's face it- while he's no doubt adorable...not the sharpest tool in the shed, wink wink. Urgh.


Why didn't I tell him it's his birthday? Because I'm selfish. I want his birthday to be exciting and fun and memorable. We'll have a shindig when Nick gets home (I bought all the decorations and crap while I was on my Stockpiling Craze) and have presents and all that normal stuff. And seriously, he doesn't even know the days of the week. Have I scarred him for life by not actually telling him that today was the day of his birth?

Eh, probably. Poor guy.


Anyway. Since I didn't blog back then, I wanted to get a few pics and his birth story down. One for the ages. Seriously, are all moms as boring as me?


Anyway. Scott was actually due on my birthday. Isn't that fun? Now, I know that moms aren't supposed to have favorites, and even though I often joke about it, I really DON'T have a favorite. But there is a special place in my heart for Scott. If not telling him that it's his birthday doesn't make me a terrible mother, I'm SURE that this does, but hey. Full disclosure, right? I don't love him any more, or the other two any less...he's just my special one. We get each other.


What was I saying? Oh yeah, his birth day. So he was due on my birthday (let's see how many times I can squeeze that in) but my twelve week US was saying I was due later (LIAR!) so we scheduled my c section for April 5th, pretending that I'd be 39 weeks then. I don't care what those docs say, I KNOW he was due on my birthday. Anyway, actually has nothing to do with anything. Since I felt a little cheated by Ava's crash surgical delivery, I decided to schedule the section, but that if I went into labor on my own, I'd go ahead for a tolac. HOWEVER, thirty six weeks rolled around and I became a miserable, raging lunatic. I entertained the idea of actually cutting my own stomach open and ripping that kid out by myself. So when I FINALLY went into labor on the 4th, I just barked at the poor nurse "NO! OF COURSE I DON'T WANT TO LABOR! GET ME IN THE OR AND TAKE THIS BABY OUT! HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"


What can I say. Contractions really hurt. As does having a human being living inside you.


So they took me back and I started dozing off (after being awake for the last four weeks complaining) and Nick got to be there for the first time to see his child born and cut the cord and all that fun stuff. Needless to say, he was beside himself.



That recovery was a lot easier (mainly because I didn't have the whole can't-breathe problem to deal with, and I wasn't crying because I was scared and shocked and wanted a 'normal' deliver, like I had been with Ava) and I got to my room and got my hands on him a lot quicker.








Here's his First Foto, you know, those ladies that come in and dupe hormonal moms into spending a fortune on silly pics of their wrinkly babies? Now, Ava has looked exactly like Ava from day one. Exactly. And Warren looks a little different now, but you can look at pics from his birth day and there's a really strong resemblance. It still looks like him. This guy below? Wouldn't know him from Adam. Isn't that crazy? Why does he look so different now than he did then?






Meeting his Grandma Terri, who graciously came up to take care of Princess Ava while we were in the hospital. As much as I love my husband and he's the most wonderful father in the entire world...while I was in those PACUs after all three of my deliveries, the first groggy words out of my mouth were always "Where's my mom?" And for Scott, she was there.
And, of course, meeting his big sister. What a gal! She grabbed ahold of him that day and has rarely let go since. People always ask me if it was hard, having them so close together. And my answer? A resounding NO! They are best friends, and I think it happened so quickly that I never even noticed. Ava was still a baby, so adding another baby to the mix didn't really change the game too too much. Weird, I know. But that's the truth. For me, anyway.




Proud Papa.


Flash froward. Now he's starting to look a little more like Scott, right?








Another three hundred and sixty five days (I actually can never remember, 364 or 365? Thanks again Biloxi Public Schools!) and he's starting to look just like he does now. Look at that hair!
So that's my middle baby, story so far. I really love that little stinker. He's not my favorite, but only because I know better than to have favorites. But he certainly is my favorite first boy.
PS: That WAS an earthquake last night. Apparently, they have those here. I'm the only one who seems bothered by that fact. Ahh, Guam. She's growing on me.

1 comment:

  1. Happy birthday to your favorite first son. =)

    It's so crazy-last night when I was reading your blog and the fact that Guam had an earthquake, I thought, "It figures, we live in SoCal for almost 4 years without an earthquake, and I'm going to move to Guam and DIE in one." Wouldn't you know there was a 7.2 earthquake that we felt today! Geez!

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