My 'baby'

I am sitting in hospital this morning with my 'baby' who is having some minor oral surgery today. He is having some teeth removed mainly because i am a dentaphobe and want him to be fast asleep while any hideous dental procedure is done. But it is a horrible feeling watching one of your children go under.

My 'baby' is almost thirteen. He will turn 13 just before my eldest turns 20 so I will have four months of having three teenagers in the house. *shudders. Apparently mothers who continue to refer to their youngest child as their 'baby' may do so until they are middle aged. I hope so!

I never really intended having a third child. The Lawyer always wanted a third but I am one of those people who hated being pregnant, as nice as the end result is. I suffered terribly with migraine headaches and heartburn during my pregnancies. And having had post natal depression after my second (anally retentive control freak having two babies is a recipe for disaster) I didn't want to go through that ever again. So all in all I was not keen.

But after some pressure from the person who doesn't have to gestate a baby, get heartburn, migraine headaches, heat rash, breast feed, give up his career etc etc etc, I gave him ONE shot at it. ONE. I went off the pill for one month only. Both previous children were obtained from small doses of ovulation inducing drugs so I was fairly confident that it wouldn't happen.

When, about 4 weeks later I started salivating excessively ( some pregnancy symptoms are weird and this was the giveaway for me before anything else) I went and got the home pregnancy test knowing and dreading what it would say.

And you know what? When that little line came up telling me I was pregnant, all of that fear, uncertainty and dread disappeared. I was so inexplicably excited. I was having another baby! We had friends who were horrified that we would go back but there you have it. We were having a third child.

Even though I had given away every item of baby paraphernalia, and clothing and had to start again, here I was at almost 40 about to have a baby. Turns out, it was the easiest of pregnancies. I had a 4 and 6 year old who were at the stage of dressing themselves, cleaning their own teeth, using their opposable thumbs effectively, and it was a busy time. So busy I didn't really have time to think about being pregnant and HAVING ANOTHER BABY.

He was to be born on 4 January 2000 by c-section. Remember the Y2K drama? All I was worried about was not having an anesthetist with drugs available because all of everything was going to shut down at midnight before the new year. Turns out I wasted a perfectly good worry, as did everyone.

I had 18 people for lunch Christmas day that year. 10 days before my new baby was to be born. As you do.

On boxing day it hit me. I was having another baby. My others were about to turn 5 and 7. What the hell was i doing? Did I have everything I needed? I couldn't remember how to change a nappy. I remembered the thermo nuclear explosion in the nipples in the first few weeks of breast feeding and went cold. How was I going to get my others to school and pre school with a new baby? What if he or she was awake all night? What if the other children hated the new baby?.

On the way to hospital I started shaking and crying. I don't know why. Once at hospital and prepped, The obstetrician was worried that I was worried about his skill (hey, narcissists, everything is not about you!). I couldn't explain it. The Lawyer was forlorn not understanding and I just couldn't explain it.

Next thing I remember I had a beautiful baby boy in my arms. I have no memory of the epidural the surgery or any conversation during the surgery. I don't understand that either. Fear and anxiety made me almost unconscious it seems.

And all of a sudden nothing else mattered. Other than the fact that I had very fat babies and he had incredibly skinny legs which I noticed for some reason. He was the easiest of babies. Slept through the night at 12 weeks (although his big sister did so at 6 weeks, which really set up high expectations). Fitted in to whatever was happening. His brother and sister adored him. Could watch him while i did other things - hell my daughter even was able to bottle feed him. And she could read to him. We moved house when he was 4 weeks old. As you do. I supervised building a new house which we moved into when he was 11 months old. As you do. And I went back to work when he was 8 months old- And all the while he smiled and laughed and kept everyone entertained. And I did not once get that feeling of being low let alone depressed.


As he got older difficulties I wasn't expecting arose- sometimes it was like two generations in the one house and there was a constant refrain 'hurry up Harry', 'keep up Harry' from his siblings. He has of late been the constant butt of teasing from his older siblings but I just keep telling him he will soon be taller than both of them and they'll be scared of him and that it will make him very tough and resilient.

I adore all of my children. They are all different and all have fine qualities and are growing up to be good people. Although being tidy is not a skill any of them have. Of all my children my 'baby' is the one, for some reason, who is most sensitive to my moods. He can tell if I am sad, worried or anxious. He asks if i need help with anything. On my first mothers day after my mother died his card wishing me a happy mothers day referred to my mum being with us in spirit. I hadn't said anything to anyone about my feelings about that mothers day. He thanked his teacher for coming on school camp, acknowledging that she had two children of her own that she had to leave behind to come to camp with them. His grade 4 teacher wrote on his report card that 'he has a kind heart, and is always first to offer help to those students who need it'. He volunteered to buddy up for a whole year with a severely autistic boy in the class and just shrugged off teasing from the other kids for being his friend. He told me everyone deserves to have at least one friend. He was the only one to invite that boy to a birthday party that year. And he gave me a new, if limited, understanding of how hard it must be for parents of children anywhere on the autism spectrum.

So he is turning 13 in the New Year and I am very glad I gave The Lawyer that one shot at the third child. He completed our little family and makes my heart swell.





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