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How to Self Induce: Threaten Homemade C-Section September 25, 2008

Filed under: Cassidy,Mommyhood,Pictures — familydunn @ 7:30 pm

Sweet Cass,

It was seven months ago today that I was due to have you.  It was seven months ago today that I WAS NOT DILATED AT ALL, YOU HAD NOT DROPPED AT ALL, AND I WAS MAKING DEATH THREATS TO DOCTORS IF THEY DID NOT HAVE YOU REMOVED IMMEDIATELY!  It was such a sweet and plesant time in my life.


It’s hard to believe now that I had to wait 10 days before anyone would actually plead my case and take you from me.  I was so ready to meet you.  More importantly, I wanted to be able to roll over in bed without your father having to hoist me over like a hump back whale that’d been caught in the sand a little to close to shore.  Even more importantly, I wanted to be able to laugh or cough or sneeze or just breathe without peeing on myself.  Or fart.  It really was the only time my gas has rivaled your father’s.  And listen to me very closely – I don’t ever EVER want that to happen again!  It really was such a precious time. 


Even though I gained almost 90 pounds I didn’t get stretch marks until I was 36 weeks along.  You were so gentle and sweet to me up until that point.  And then, well, I guess you wanted out just as much as I wanted you out because you put stretch marks on me the likes of which I’ve never seen.  They puffed up like blisters and eventually split open and bled though my shirts.  Everyone says that pregnant women glow, and truly, I was a sigh to behold.  Easy on the eyes, I was.

Once I walked into Barnes and Noble and the old lady who cleans the shelves ran up to the front and said I KNEW IT HAD TO BE YOU!  I COULD SEE YOUR SILHOUETTE FROM THE BACK OF THE STORE AND I THOUGHT THAT MUST BE KRISTEN.  She then asked me asked me how I got there because she knew it would be impossible for me to drive myself at that point, seeing as she didn’t think I could fit behind the wheel of my car.  And that Cass, made me mad.  You’re Daddy had to shut her up before your Mommy was arrested for homicide.  It only made me mad because it was true.  My belly was much larger than my arm span.  Truth be told, you were the one driving in those last months.

Now you are crawling around the living room, spitting at inanimate objects, panting in excitement over the lint you find on the floor.  I’m looking at you remembering these things, and you know what, you were so totally and completely worth every bit of it. 

Dad and I sometimes lay in bed at night and check out my stretch marks to see if they’ve faded at all.  It looks like some redneck got in his monster truck and peeled out on my belly.  So, yeah, they’ve faded quite a bit.

However badly we both must have wanted change at that point we just couldn’t seem to make it happen.  Maybe you did it to spite me, but I don’t think so.  I think we just couldn’t get it together.  Couldn’t make things work.  Cass, I want you to know that anywhere I’ve gotten in life it’s because I’ve failed my way there.  The only reason I have hope is because of Jesus.  He loves me so much.  I know there are people who are going to tell you that I don’t, and that if you act like me then you don’t either, but that’s just not true.  I want so badly for you to know him and how amazingly lovely his love is.  I hope I can show you that while we go through life together. 

That’s what we’re doing, baby.  We’re going through life together.  I’ve thought many times that I don’t know why, and so much more seriously I DON’T THINK IT’S FAIR, that you are mine.  Shouldn’t you belong to someone more capable?  Someone better than me?  I want to do right by you, but I know myself and I know I won’t.  I’m going to mess up with you.  I’m going to fail you at some point.  Just thinking about it makes my throat swell and I find it hard to breathe. 


Looking back at pregnancy, remember how utterly miserable I was, it gives me some remnants of something that resembles excitement filled endurance.  We made it through that.  It took us 10 days longer than expected, a 24 hour labor, and an emergency surgery, but we made it.  Me and you, Kid.  That gives me hope.  We will make it again. 

Whatever comes our way, and I’m sure there will be plenty, we’ll make it.  Even if it takes longer than expected.  Even if there is pain involved.  Even if things don’t go as planned.  Even if you make me pee on myself.  Even if you give me gas.  We’ll make it.  Because you’re so totally and completely worth it.

I love you Pumpkin Face.

Love, Mama



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