Life Before Sam…
What an odd thought – life before Sam. When I was a teenage girl hanging out at the pool with my friend, we talked about what our futures would be like. Normal teenage girl talk, trying to envision our adult selves. We both agreed we wanted to have boys, who we’d dress in the latest styles and be the coolest moms ever. I wanted to name my son Sam – because it was a cool name and he wasn’t going to be a dork! It’s weird that it all came true – like we were channeling our future selves – I only wish I knew what ever happened with that friend. When I hit my mid-twenties I started to realize something, a common ground among many of the friends I had. No one really respected their parents – blaming them for the hells in their lives. This was telling me that the parents were at fault for the children’s lives being a mess. I made a decision that I really didn’t want children, I never wanted to be at fault for screwing up a life – I didn’t want to be responsible for that. I made up my mind that life would be better without children, the world was a nasty screwed up place anyways. Then I met Scott who was up front about the way he felt about the whole kid thing – no way! That was perfect – I was with a guy who thought the same way I did and there would be no pressure and life was going to be childless…
Then, one fateful night, Sammy was created without any warning. I remember feeling like my body was screaming, “You’re pregnant!” and I kept thinking it was a lie. Then the monthly little annoyance did not arrive and my heart started to sink as the realization that my body just might be telling me the truth. I had gotten one test and took it – there was no wait because the result of the test was immediate. I felt as if someone had hit me with a baseball bat – a nightmare was coming true. I didn’t believe the test, so I went right out and bought another one. It was just as fast with its result – but this time I felt a tiny little spark of joy deep within my soul. Of course I didn’t listen to it, this couldn’t be a happy time. There was a child coming into this world – I was going to be its mommy and it was going to hate me. The worst was telling Scott, he was not at all joyful about the idea of becoming a father. As soon as the information became clear to him, he could only think of one thing – get rid of it! I explained that there are two kinds – ones that get abortions and ones that do not. There was no probable cause to do that and I could never do that just because we were afraid. We had nine months to try and figure out what not to do when this life arrived. I also kept figuring that I would miscarry – as my mother and just about every female in my family had. It was also on my mind that I was the one who lived – I was the baby who made it out alive and I was the baby that had fixed whatever was wrong with my mother. My brother was born 14 months after me and everything was fine with his pregnancy. Maybe I was the one who would change the fate of the women in my family – and I was. Scott was having a hard time accepting this whole idea, but I explained to him that as soon as he accepts the idea and accepts that it’s going to happen – the sooner he’ll have fun planning for it. I just told him to stop fighting it – he wasn’t going to win. It was at that moment he let every bad thought and every panic he was obsessing about – go. He got himself ready and his whole outlook at the child thing changed for the best. He threw himself into learning everything he could, doing everything he could, to try to be the best father he could be. So, we read and went to classes and went shopping (that had to be my favorite part). He went to every doctor’s appointment with me and we did everything together for this little life.
I was thinking that the day Sam was going to be born, and how my mother would be here, but Scott’s wouldn’t. Scott is closer with his mother then he is with his father (and it seems natural as Scott’s brother Tom seems closer to their father. Like they each picked a parent to bond with or something) and I felt he wanted his mama to be there when his first child was born. So, we contacted his parents and asked if she could come down and be here when the due date arrived. She was concerned that she’d be in the way – but we assured her that would not be the case at all. (I get along pretty well with Scott’s mother). She was happy to come down and be a part of the day our family changed for ever.
I was going to have a C-Section and so we knew the day he would be born – we got to pick it. The natural due date was really close to my grandfather’s birthday (my grandfather – with whom I was really close – died when I was ten), so we picked his birthday. We also picked Sam’s middle name after that grandfather – again another thing I figured out as a teenager (creepy). The night before Sam’s planned arrival, we all (Scott, me, his mother and my mother) spent the night at the Circus-Circus Hotel and Casino in Reno. The hospital is right across the street from the Casino, so we were able to simply walk over to our 6am appointment. It was the longest walk ever – we had to walk across the street, then from the doors of the hospital clear across to the opposite end to the maternity ward. Scott’s mother and I were laughing the whole way! I had been feeling a lot of pain and discomfort the whole night before and thought it was nerves – it turned out to be the beginning of contractions. Sammy was meant to be born that day, C-Section or no C-Section he was going to be born that day! How awesome is that – to know that it was as if everything was falling into place, like a puzzle. It was fate – the power that no matter what, this day had been mapped out since the day I was born.
I was ready to get this child out of me! It had been a long nine months and I knew we were both ready for the separation to happen. They numbed me up, brought in Scott and cut my belly open – Sammy was out within four minutes! As soon as our eyes saw Sammy for the first time – that was it! Sam turned our mommy and daddy switches to “on” and we were parents! He was healthy and doing well – I wasn’t so lucky. I had some complications – nothing serious, but ended up staying in the hospital for a week. I had no idea what was happening to me, but good god the hormones were racing and every inch of my body had this uncontrollable impulse to hold Sam and stay close to him. I didn’t want anyone to hold him – and when they did, it was like a screaming alarm in my head saying over and over “get him back!” until I got him back. When I held him all was calm and everything was good. I didn’t mind Scott holding him, for short intervals at a time, but I was being controlled by something I couldn’t control. He was mine and I was his mother and it was the best feeling in the world.
I look at him now, (two and a half years old) obsessed with the Toy Story movie, and I can’t even imagine life without Sam. He gives me reason – to wake up, to live, to be the best mom I can be. When he first came home we were trying to play by the book and everything we “heard” to do, but in the end (when nothing was working out) I listened to my heart and my body. I let the baby tell me what it was I needed to do for him, and I did everything I felt to be natural. We got a lot of heat for they way we choose to parent, but that’s okay, because anyone who knows Sam, knows how happy and healthy he is. He has changed our lives so much – for the best. He is the greatest thing that ever happened to both of us – and I wouldn’t ever want to go back to life before Sam!
