True love

I'm reading a Daniel Steel novel which has ignited a little memory. (Actually a lot of memories, but this one is one I'm willing to share in honor of my babies.)Baby one. I'm trying to remember if I was scared or not. Going into it I felt pretty prepared. I chose not to take La Maze. Breathing like that just seemed silly. I was 17 what did I know? My contractions started as I was lying in bed trying to sleep. I knew this was it. I couldn't get comfortable, I wasn't sleeping, the contractions were pretty regular. I knew the baby one was coming and I was prepared. The nursery was ready. All the little onsies were folded neatly in drawers. My overnight bag was packed and waiting. I got out of bed and began packing a bag for the STBX while he slept soundly. I packed an apple and some money for him. I laid on the couch and started timing my contractions. When they were about 5 minutes apart and still mildly bearable, I called my doctors office and made arrangements to head to the hospital. I woke the STBX up and handed him a change of clothes. Within minutes we were off to welcome our little family. We had to stop at the gas station on the way (some of us were more prepared than others) and by time the STBX came out with the lottery numbers I was ready to get on with the show. I made it clear that I wasn't interested in the lottery numbers and that I was indeed interested in getting to the hospital and having this child. I was all prepared to walk around and get the labor started. I was prepared with books and a tennis ball for my back. Jesus was that all a joke. You want me to move? WTF? All I could do was lay there and pray that this pain would stop soon. Little did I know I had six more hours to go complete with vomitting and severe muscle spasms in my thighs. Sharp, intense, OMG this is the worst pain I ever felt contractions, that seized my entire body every minute. Yes, every minute like clockwork. Upon each contraction I would squeeze the STBX's hand. I wanted to scream at him and tell him I hated him very much for doing this to me, but instead, I told him I loved him. Each contraction he got a half assed "I love you." I wasn't terrified until a point where baby one had dropped down into the canal and the monitor no longer picked up his heartbeat. The stupid nurse said "oh, we lost him." I can imagine the horrified look I gave her because she instantly said, "Just his heartbeat, he moved down, it's okay." I couldn't strangled her for terrifying me like that. It was just me and the STBX. I opted for no other family, I am not one who likes a lot of people around when I'm in pain. Just let me be. I also thought it would be nice just the two of us. I pictured the occasion a lot differently than what it went down. It wasn't romantic or emotional for the STBX like I thought it might've been. But there is the fact that I had just puked all over myself and let my bowels go on the birthing table, so it's pretty hard to be in love and rapture by someone who still has chunks on her gown. No matter, I was still able to be totally in love and rapture by this tiny little man that I could only imagine for the last nine months. After 3 hard pushes, here was this little prince charming that rode in on a white horse. I had never felt love like that.I have to admit though that I wasn't a very comfortable mother. Sure, things do come naturally and I did what needed done, but I wasn't into holding my baby for hours on end. I just didn't know how to be a new mother. It actually took a few years before I felt like his mother and not some stupid teenaged babysitter. I think back now and that little prince charming and I went through some pretty tough times together. Of course he was oblivious to it all. I counted on that little man to help me make it through and he did a fine job. He's now my charming eleven year old who makes me laugh constantly and never refuses my affection in public.
Baby two. The contractions started in Lowes hardware store earlier in the day. Yup, prince charming number two was riding in that night. I wasn't scared at all. After all, all the experts say that on baby two you could expect to cut your labor time and intensity in half. Ha. I didn't think that was a very funny joke after eleven hours of labor. I went into the hospital with contractions a minute apart. 60 seconds isn't long to regain composure. My cervix seemed to be stuck. I wasn't dialating. I kept refusing pain meds because I knew they would wear off quickly. I was glad to see my FIL show up as to keep the STBX occupied. I didn't want him near me this time. I was doing this one completely on my own. I didn't need a hand to squeeze. All I can remember saying is, "I forgot how bad this hurt." Finally, I got some meds to move the labor along. I had a very sweet student nurse who took great care of me. This was to be her first labor and delivery. Again, just a few pushes and viola, prince charming number two entered my world and made me fall in love again. He looked just like prince charming number one. I just couldn't get over the resemblance. I also remember that right after I had delivered number two, another STBMother down the hall crying and screaming. A few tears fell from my eyes because I had just been in her shoes and I wanted to hug her and tell her it would be over soon. Be strong baby girl, we're all pulling for you. I remember little man number one coming to see the latest addition that evening. He could've cared less. Who was this bundle of blankets and what am I supposed to do with him. It was like he didn't exist for the first few months. Little brother who?I was a better mother with prince charming two. I sat with him for hours. I craddled him like a little peanut. It was all just different and I expect it had something to do with my age. Yet still, I was a mere 20 years old. Little man number two was colicy though. He liked to cry all day and forced me to hide my head under the pillow several times. Having a newborn is very hard work. Very hard work. It's exhausting. And I wanted to throw daggers at the MIL and the STBX when they said something derogatory about me not being dressed and showered by 10 a.m. I didn't see their asses rocking the baby back to sleep in the middle of the night. Nope. I clearly remember being in the nursery alone at those hours.
My labor and deliveries were miracles. Nothing can ever take those memories away. My little prince charmings riding in on their white horses to rescue the damsel in distress. What perfect little men they are now. One day, when they witness the births of their own children, they just might understand how much I truly love them. True, unconditional love at it's finest.