Sorry guys, this post isn't going to be silly or quirky. This one is a Deep and Meaningful.
I realised tonight just how much of a joy Chicken is. This is important, because there is something about me you probably didn't know.
I have a confession. I didn't want Chicken.
I am one of the cluckiest people I know, I see a baby and I just melt. When Gremlin was 4 months old I told my (very patient) hubby that I wanted another baby. He told me to just wait until Gremlin was at least one before thought about trying again. So I was waiting. When Gremlin was 8 months I got a casual job working for a friend which was great, but we needed more money. When Gremlin was 10 months I stopped breastfeeding him, popped him on formula and got myself a full-time job. My husband and I had decided to put a second child off for a couple of years. With me working we could save up some money for a house. But God had other plans.
About 2-3 weeks into my new job I went home at the end of the day feeling a little queasy. And I remembered, when I stopped breastfeeding, I didn't get my period. I thought to myself that it was too soon, I was still on the mini pill, (we were a couple of days off starting the new packet of the standard pill) but that only had like a less than 2% failure rate. Apparently that was enough. I took a pregnancy test to convince myself I was crazy for thinking I was pregnant. But I wasn't as crazy as I thought. I was indeed pregnant.
We told everyone we were happy, that it was unexpected but we were glad. I wasn't too sure. We nicknamed the baby "Chuckles" because we figured God had a sense of humour. It wasn't really all that funny. I wanted the baby, but part of me didn't. I hate being pregnant, I'm not one of those glowing happy pregnant women, I'm the sad, pale nauseated type. So it wasn't the best time for me. I did everything I could think of to connect with the baby inside but it wasn't working. I found out the sex, I bought her little girl clothes, I talked to my belly, I even got a pregnancy belly scrub thing, (which only made me feel really uncomfortable and awkward). None of it worked. I secretly wondered what would happen if I gave her up for adoption. It wasn't until 3 weeks before my c-section was booked that I realised I actually wanted her. She was kicking so violently she brought on very painful Braxton Hicks contractions and they admitted me into the hospital just in case. But when they gave me strong painkillers, my body relaxed and the contractions stopped. I was sent home and I realised that I was actually disappointed. I wanted to be able to take my baby home.
But now I love her, more than I thought I could. I was playing with her tonight and I couldn't help thinking about how glad I am to have her. I love watching her play, she is beautiful. She looks like a little doll, but she's so active. She doesn't stop moving even when she's sleeping. And when she's particularly pleased with something, she grins and her eyes just seem to sparkle. She's Mummy's little girl. She follows me around the house, climbs all over me, and showers me in drool. I'm the one she turns to when she's upset or hungry, or anything. I admit, I love it. And I love her.