The last was the least complicated of them all.
If I knew it would be like that, I would be willing to do that again. But one out of five is just not very good odds. Russian Roulette is a dangerous game to play.
This time, the final time I got to experience what I didn't with any of the others. The Joy from the beginning. This time when I mentioned 'odd' to my doctor, she did that test first. It was nice to have that joy, just once. All that baby excitement that I had missed so many times before.
All was normal and good. Her only concern was that neither of us were very big. But considering everything had been through so far, it wasn't a huge deal. Five in Seven years is quite the feet. So is 6 in 10. She just kept an eye on things more often. It was a miracle that with such a high risk, gestational diabetes never materialized.
I even got to experience the false labour, being sent home from the hospital thing, three times.
I'm not a rookie, I have done this before once or twice. But no she kept changing her mind about showing up. That should have been a clue for sign of things to come.
It was a very long week. No one had had much sleep. I decided to spend time with Tia and Tio and their kids so everyone else could sleep. They had not had pleasant baby experiences and it was good for all of us. Calming, comforting and just what was needed. The nephews took turns taking care of me. Kinda nice.
Though that second night when things started happening, I nearly re broke poor Anthony's arm, and someone else's hand. It got intense pretty fast. They all had to literally carry me out and in again.
They had asked to be in the delivery room, I didn't really care and with everything they had done to help out, more the merrier. Again, why does no one listen to me? I knew there was baby coming, but no one would listen. They were talking about how it was going to be another long night, but this time no one would send me home. And then there she was. Nothing to it, literally.
No days of intensity, no hours of work. Not a single push. She was just there, membranes intact and all.
Peanut they call her now. Cracked out of her shell.
Tiny, smallest of them all; the exact size I was actually. And perfect.
Curls and pink.
Most beautiful they said.
When they told me it was a girl, I swear I heard/felt a click. A shift. I felt the final piece (the piece that I didn't even know was missing) fall into place in my heart. I was whole and complete.
In that quiet place inside, I had wanted my own two little girls more than anything.
That was my heart's desire and there she was. The second of my pair.
Those two have been inseparable, even now I find them snuggled up in the same bed at night.
They even had their own little language.
As close to twins as I could ever come. Someone knows my limits.
Again I wasn't sure what to call her. She and I had alot of time alone in those first few days. And I finally allowed my long ignored broken heart to be healed. She literally completed something I didn't know was missing.
But in all honesty I was sure she was a boy too.
I didn't think I was loved enough to have my own little girls.
When I held her, I was overwhelmed by how much I was loved and complete.
This time, the final time I got to experience what I didn't with any of the others. The Joy from the beginning. This time when I mentioned 'odd' to my doctor, she did that test first. It was nice to have that joy, just once. All that baby excitement that I had missed so many times before.
All was normal and good. Her only concern was that neither of us were very big. But considering everything had been through so far, it wasn't a huge deal. Five in Seven years is quite the feet. So is 6 in 10. She just kept an eye on things more often. It was a miracle that with such a high risk, gestational diabetes never materialized.
I even got to experience the false labour, being sent home from the hospital thing, three times.
I'm not a rookie, I have done this before once or twice. But no she kept changing her mind about showing up. That should have been a clue for sign of things to come.
It was a very long week. No one had had much sleep. I decided to spend time with Tia and Tio and their kids so everyone else could sleep. They had not had pleasant baby experiences and it was good for all of us. Calming, comforting and just what was needed. The nephews took turns taking care of me. Kinda nice.
Though that second night when things started happening, I nearly re broke poor Anthony's arm, and someone else's hand. It got intense pretty fast. They all had to literally carry me out and in again.
They had asked to be in the delivery room, I didn't really care and with everything they had done to help out, more the merrier. Again, why does no one listen to me? I knew there was baby coming, but no one would listen. They were talking about how it was going to be another long night, but this time no one would send me home. And then there she was. Nothing to it, literally.
No days of intensity, no hours of work. Not a single push. She was just there, membranes intact and all.
Peanut they call her now. Cracked out of her shell.
Tiny, smallest of them all; the exact size I was actually. And perfect.
Curls and pink.
Most beautiful they said.
When they told me it was a girl, I swear I heard/felt a click. A shift. I felt the final piece (the piece that I didn't even know was missing) fall into place in my heart. I was whole and complete.
In that quiet place inside, I had wanted my own two little girls more than anything.
That was my heart's desire and there she was. The second of my pair.
Those two have been inseparable, even now I find them snuggled up in the same bed at night.
They even had their own little language.
As close to twins as I could ever come. Someone knows my limits.
Again I wasn't sure what to call her. She and I had alot of time alone in those first few days. And I finally allowed my long ignored broken heart to be healed. She literally completed something I didn't know was missing.
But in all honesty I was sure she was a boy too.
I didn't think I was loved enough to have my own little girls.
When I held her, I was overwhelmed by how much I was loved and complete.
They used baby name book for her and found Callista - meaning most beautiful.
Did want to use Ixchel - Mayan name, but I'd hard enough time for the other Spanish names. He always wanted to use that other name, but it just never fit for anyone else. And it wasn't going to work as a first name.
So again using initials to create a nickname she could use in the future. Callista Assenath Meyer.
CAM.
Funny when she started speaking people would either call her Ixchel or Calixta. She really likes that name. And her nickname.
She is definitely a girlie girl as she calls it. Frills, and lace, skirt, dresses and curls.
Not sure where she came from, but she's allot of fun.
And she would say she is the boss. I am often quick to point out, you are not in charge here shorty, I am.
That one I could do again, but it feels good to be complete.
My Rachel.
Most beautiful reflection of me.
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