He's finally here!
After months of anticipation and weeks of waiting, Baby Boy arrived Feb. 20, not because he wanted to, but because the doctor said it was time.
Baby Boy didn't want to leave his nice, warm home and enter the cold, snowy world. So we had no choice. We had to issue an eviction notice.
Despite much effort on my part, Baby Boy had to be delivered via C-section. Doctor said he was just too big to come on his own.
Now, I have never had any kind of surgey before, unless you could count having your wisdom teeth removed. And I am a big wuss when it comes to pain, needles and blood (especially my own).
So when they told me I was going to have a C-section, I was terrified. So was my husband, Mark. One nurse handed Mark his scrubs as two others wheeled me off to the operating room. I kept saying to myself, "Whatever it takes, whatever it takes to get him here." From the minute I knew I was pregnant, I had always said I would do whatever I had to do to get him here -- no matter what that meant for me.
I cried all the way to the operating room. I cried as they prepped me. I cried tears of fear up until the very minute I heard my baby boy cry. Then I cried tears of happiness. There is nothing like the sound of that first cry from a newborn. At that moment, I knew everything was going to be OK. He was here. He had 10 little fingers and 10 little toes. And a full head of black hair. (For those who believe in old wives' tales, yes, I had heartburn - bad heartburn.) And I was OK. I may have a hell of a scar, but I also have a precious little boy.
And the doctor was right. He was a big boy. He weighed more than 1 pound more than his older brother when he was born. He entered the world weighing a whopping 8 pounds, 12 ounces. If we had waited until my actual due date (Feb. 25), who knows how big the little guy would have been.
We spent three and a half days recovering at Wheeling Hospital. It would have only been two, but because of the C-section, we had to stay one more night. I wish I could say I got some sleep, but that wasn't the case. Nurses were in and out all night taking my vitals. Nursery nurses were in and out bringing Baby Boy in for feeding time. Looking back now, I probably got more sleep in the hospital than I am getting now. Baby Boy enjoys sleeping all day and being up all night - eating. Hopefully he gets his days and nights straightened out soon. Until then, he and I spend quality time together watching the late show, and the late, late show and the late, late, late show.
Little Man is adjusting well to his brother being home. He calls him Little Brother, not his name. He gives him a hug and kiss every night before he goes to bed. He helps me with whatever I need him to help with, except changing diapers.
So all is well at the Letusick house. Even with the sleep lost and the lovely scar, I wouldn't trade my life for anything in the world. I have a supportive family. I have a wonderful, loving husband. I have two little boys who I can't imagine my life without.
My three boys are my world. They are my everything. What more could a girl ask for?
(Letusick, a resident of Rayland, is a copy editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times.)