William Baby

I just love this little boy to pieces. When I found out I was pregnant I started having dreams that I would have a little girl and I was thrilled. But as I got closer to 20 weeks I started having new dreams with a little boy and then a baby girl. I knew going to my 20 week ultrasound that I was having a boy; I just didn't want to admit it. Mostly because I was terrified of having a son. My brother wasn't exactly like Tyson and his brothers. The first time I met all of Tyson's family the brothers wrestled on the floor and I was convinced someone was going to die. Or at least break something important. Add that to the HORROR stories of Tyson's youth and I was pretty nervous to have a son.
As the weeks went on I got more used to the idea of having a boy. Eventually (think 40+ weeks) I got to the point where I was physically aching to hold William in my arms. It killed me to be patient and wait for him. He was in no hurry to come and, meanwhile, I was crying in my shower not understanding why my little boy wouldn't come out. I was mad at my body for doing NOTHING until the nurses at the hospital helped me. At 41 weeks I checked into the hospital and I was having zero contractions. Zip. The nurses hooked me up to a machine to track my contractions and there was absolutely nothing going on. Irritating. I sincerely hope that this birth experience taught my body what it is supposed to do next time. Otherwise I'm going to have another really wonderful (NOT) experience in patience.
Anyways, now that William is 13 months old, I can't imagine having a baby girl instead of him. I can't imagine dressing up my baby in dresses and playing with little dolls. I love everything about William. I love that he is curious and smart. I love that he gets frustrated because he can't tell me what he needs yet. I love that I can teach him some signs to help ease that frustration. I love that he is a snuggler. I love that he, of his own will, gives me kisses. I love that he is obsessed with Finding Nemo and a stuffed dog-toy beaver we named Charlie. I love that he is part-fish. I love that he likes me to chase him. I love that I can make him laugh. I love that I can hold him close and kiss him forehead. I love that I can kiss him a billion times a day and he never says "Mom. Stop it!" (Mostly because he can't talk. But I'm going to sneak in all the kisses I can until he gets embarrassed by me in a few years.) I love that he is sealed to Tyson and me for all eternity. This little boy is mine. I grew him. How amazing is that? I grew a baby. I gave him life and love and will keep loving him for all eternity.
I never thought I would enjoy being a mother so much. Yes, it is tiring. Yes, I get frustrated when things aren't perfect. Yes, I am still learning. Yes, there are some days I want to quit my job and be a stay-at-home-mom and I get so angry/sad that I can't do that. But yes, I love every second of my new role in life. Motherhood is divine. Parenthood is divine. I wish everybody viewed it as such: I think the world would be a much better place.