Sometimes, I am too lazy to cook, and we get fast food. (Shhhh, don’t tell anybody!) I usually get an 8 count chicken nugget meal. Every so often, on a really good day, there will be NINE nuggets! That’s right….I only order 8 but they give me NINE! Oh happy day!
You, my baby, are my extra nugget. I didn’t even know I needed you! I thought I would be totally happy and complete with my two kids… a boy and a girl…perfect. But there you came, 9lbs 6oz, beautiful red hair, big blue eyes, kicking, screaming, and half-way killing me!
The day after you were born a nurse came in with a concerned look on her face. She said the doctor heard a heart murmur and a specialist would need to see you. In that moment I felt….it’s really unexplainable. I felt complete terror. I had just met you. You were just born, but I couldn’t live without you. I remember thinking, how did I breathe when he wasn’t in my world. I know my lungs worked….I was even happy. I just couldn’t quite understand how.
I survived my high blood pressure and loss of blood, and you survived your little heart murmur. (We just see the heart doctor for check-ups.) It was when we finally got home and settled that I realized things would be different with you. When we brought Sissy home, I was so worried about everything. I didn’t want anybody else to hold her. I was scared she would love somebody more than me. I was scared she wouldn’t gain enough weight. I was scared she would stop breathing. I was scared she wouldn’t walk and talk on time….the list could honestly go on and on. Then came Bubba. I had become used to the idea that my body was broken and I couldn’t grow a baby, but I did. To me, looking at his face was like looking at my own little miracle, and I was terrified that miracle would be taken away from me. I stared at him. I studied his face. I worried that I was spoiling him, so I tried to stop. I was genuinely obsessed with these two little beings.
Now here you are, my little extra nugget. I don’t worry about you loving someone more than me. I just let the love happen. I am not scared to let you experience a little roughness. I really don’t have a choice, your brother and sister make sure you are tough. You eat whatever we eat and somehow you manage to breathe on your own. You taught me that my body isn’t broken; it is quite resilient. Through you, I have learned that I can’t possibly love my babies too much. Love doesn’t spoil you. I have shamelessly allowed you to sleep with me and nursed you until your legs were dangling down mine. I have enjoyed every stage of your ‘babyness’… the good, the bad, and the ugly. It is like that extra nugget. You want to savor it. You appreciate it. You slowly eat it, lick your fingers, and silently thank Chick-fil-a for their generosity.