A year ago, if you had told me that at the end of 2013 I would be remarried, not working in the hotel industry, AND that I would have a new baby, I would have told you that you were crazy! As it turns out, I am the crazy one for not believing you. Hopefully our friendship survived the name-calling.
I never imagined that I would have another baby 12 years after my daughter was born…turns out that she has been acting like a middle child this whole time. It all makes sense now.
Having a baby at my “advanced maternal” age was not easy. Each doctor visit meant additional tests because I was considered high-risk, which caused more worry and stress – two things that you shouldn’t have a lot of during your pregnancy. I had gestational diabetes for the third time, but this time around nothing kept it in check except insulin injections. And giving yourself shots three times a day sucks. But it is amazing what women do for a little unborn baby.
Everything seemed to hurt worse than I remember it hurting. The exams, the IV, the epidural…I think I jumped out of my skin (and freaked out my husband) for every procedure. The kids and my sister were with me while I labored. We looked like a gang as we walked the halls together (then they told us we could only go two at a time).
Apparently my midwife liked to take things slow. She and I did not have the same sense of urgency. Thirty-two hours of labor later, at 5:17am, little Kaden was born.
He didn’t cry right away when he came out. I remember him making kind of a grunting sound that sounded like our cat. I didn’t want to look at any of the nurses & see any worry on their faces. I just knew he would be okay. From what my sister says, they didn’t look quite as convinced. He was brought to the exam table where he squeaked some more and opened his eyes. He also lifted up his head. (We expect him to master calculus any day now.)
There was some other drama about his bilirubin count and not being able to leave the hospital with me and me totally breaking down over it…but it all eventually worked out and I am blaming postpartum hormones on all of that. We were definitely in the hospital longer than I ever want to be in the hospital without them giving me a paycheck…but once we were home, that didn’t matter so much anymore.
The name Kaden? The K is for my Mom, Kathy. Her only grandbaby that she didn’t get to hold. Kaden’s middle name is Miguel, after his great-grandfather on his father’s side. And after we chose the name, we found out that the name Kaden means “fighter” which is totally appropriate considering all it took to get him here.