I was miserable. And excited. And exhausted. And miserable. Completely miserable. I was carrying 71 pounds more weight than my 5 foot frame had ever carried, my feet were too swollen for any of my shoes, which may have sucked more if I had actually seen them in the past two months, or if I’d needed to put on shoes, because I couldn’t go anywhere, because I was on bed rest. Which, originally sounded like heaven on earth when it was suggested to my 36 week pregnant self. It got really boring really quick. Daytime TV sucks. Then, I was banned from driving. So, my mother had to take me to my last OBGYN appointment. I took a nap while they hooked up to a bunch of machines and monitored a bunch of stuff. We scheduled my induction on account of my preeclampsia. Then, as I was checking out (is it called checking out? Do you check out if a doctor’s office?), my mother looked at my sheet, “DOES THAT SAY ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY ONE POUNDS!!! I DIDN’T EVEN GAIN THAT MUCH WITH THE TWINS!!! A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY ONE POUNDS!! THAT’S MORE THAN ANY OF YOUR BROTHERS!!”
So, that was awesome. But, I didn’t really care, I was on top of the world. I suddenly forgot the swollen feet and the aching back, and the crappy daytime TV, and the ohmyfreakinggod one hundred and seventy-one freaking pounds, because two years ago today, I saw my baby’s face for the very first time.