I got a call this morning at 5:50, my niece's water broke. Me, well being me, was awake and watching the ceiling fan when she called and I was like EEE sweet, as well as um who the fuck is that. After the call I somehow fell back to sleep and ended up not getting to the hospital until around 9 or 10...time at this point is one big blur so excuse me for not having the precise times.
Hospitals are not my thing, ESPECIALLY this hospital. It's where my grandpa, my grandma and my uncle, to name a few, have died. Days after I visited them...Its the first thought in my head when I see this place, those wonderful people that I lost there. I see their faces, I remember their smiles. And that pain and the anxiety happens all within seconds, even when I drive by. When I'm there...well it's a mystery how I stay inside my skin and my already talkative nature goes into overdrive just to keep myself from screaming and running from the place or tossing my cookies. I'm sure I was annoying, but I could care less. I was there. I was there for K and that's all that matters.
The tiny grasshopper was born around 6pm, him having K and her daddy's long toes, aka finger-toes hehe, and lots of dark black hair. He looks like her, and NOTHING like his deadbeat, asshole sperm donor of a father. Speaking of moose turds, no one told him what was going on and I'm not sure if he'll find out for a few days. Serves the fucker right for the shit he's done to her...but that's another blog post. I left not long after he was born, so I have no stats but the dr said he'd guess he's 6lbs maybe a little over. He's so teeny tiny. That explains how she gained 13 pounds and looked like she was 5 months instead of 9.
It was strange to be there, on that side of the situation and not the one in the bed in pain. It's been a while since I was visiting someone in labor. It was even harder because it was K. I may have been 9 when she was born but I still had a big part in raising her. It was tough not being able to help, and quite comical when I was giving her the advice she asked for and she was having NONE OF IT. But the best part, the very very best part next to seeing that teeny face for the first time and hearing everything was ok, was watching her boyfriend.
See, at first most of us were like OMG she's not divorced and she's dating, that's like a bad idea all on it's own, then you throw in she's pregnant with her soon to be ex husband's baby....what the hell. I was confused over what kind of guy would date a girl who was a) still married and b) pregnant with the other dude's kid. Either he was a player or one hell of a guy. From watching him today, he's one hell of a guy. He was there the entire time, and pacing and anxious and terrified as if it were his baby about to be born. And when his relatives showed up with a pair of teeny cowboy boots, he was so excited and proud and couldn't wait to show K and see the new baby in them. Yup, his relatives were there too, all just as excited and proud.
That's pretty amazing in my book. I don't trust people. I don't normally like people to be honest and yet somehow I'm a people person, go figure on that one. But this guy, I like. He showed real emotion today in that lobby, he wasn't a cocky shit, he was a ball of nerves and worried like crazy over my niece. And his family...well I think I like them too.
I don't know where things are headed for K now, but with this cute as hell baby and that insanely considerate boyfriend of hers, all I can hope for is somewhere better than where she had been.
Congrats K, he is a gorgeous little boy and lucky as hell to have you as Mama. I love you both!
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