On Tuesday, Nicholas turned 3 years old. I can hardly believe it, where did the time go? He's no longer the helpless toddler, who needed constant supervision for fear that he would fall. Now, he is an independent little boy, who can keep himself occupied, likes to help me in the kitchen and helps with his sister.
There are times when I watch him playing, listening to him talking or using his vivid imagination and I wonder where this little boy came from? He is so confident and curious about everything. He's like a little sponge, sucking up all the information that he can. I'm not sure what role I played in that.
When Nicholas was born, I suffered from a major case of post-partum depression, to the point where Blair almost sent me to see someone. I wasn't depressed because I was overwhelmed about being a mom; or maybe I was, I just don't remember. My issue stemmed from the fact that I wanted a baby girl so badly, I mean, if I could have willed it to be, it would have been. Blair comes from a family of 6 (4 boys and 2 girls) and his two brothers with children, had two boys each. No boy had had a girl, since their sisters had been born. I was determined to change that, but of course I couldn't.
After a ten hour labour and two hours of pushing, all the "drugs" that were offered, Nicholas was born and I cried. I remember hearing the words "It's a boy" and feeling my heart drop. All of my hoping and wishing, were gone and the tradition of boys continued.
I tried to cover up my disappointment over Nicholas being a boy, so that no one knew and I thought I did a pretty good job; but Blair knew. When we were home alone, I completely disconnected from my baby. I didn't want to hold him, feed him, bathe him, I wanted nothing to do with him. I was numb inside. I could acknowledge that he was cute, but it was as if I was looking at someone else's child. Blair stepped in and took over and when he was home, did a majority of the care. When he was at work, he would call me throughout the day to check on me and Nicholas. I was never thinking of harming Nicholas, I just treated him as though he was someone else's baby and I was babysitting him.
It took me a long time to recover from those feelings.....well over a year. I feel bad because here I had this beautiful little boy, full of love who did nothing wrong and I couldn't love him. It wasn't his fault and thank goodness he'll never remember that first year. I look back at pictures from that time and, in the few pictures we have of me with Nicholas, I can see that sadness behind my eyes. I wish now, that I could go back in time and relive that time and enjoy that first year with my new baby boy. Of course, I can't, but I can look into those liquid blue eyes of my beautiful, curious son and smile. How did I get so lucky?
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