It’s a good day to be home

Iwatched my friend’s pregnancy progress, and during her days of contraction and hours of labor I willed positive energy to her, stared at Facebook for news, paced the floors and allowed Wonder Boy to watch another episode of Dinosaur Train.

News of her impending cesarean delivery, texted by husband, brought tears to my eyes. I felt I knew what she was going through.  I wiped them off my face as I dodged splashes from my son in the tub, chased him around the bathroom putting lotion on a slippery squirming speedster.

My friend had started a couple of weeks before her due date, spent days in and out of labor and delivery being monitored and prodded, pacing the halls and admiring the artwork, including a poster of a pregnant ballerina at the barre.

(I still have the mental image of a whole company of pregnant ballerinas in Swan Lake.)

Sheis having the best present for Mother’s Day, after days of being stuck in a bed, pain, sleeplessness, liquid meals, tiny diapers, jaundice worries, artificial light, no privacy, hospital underwear and learning the ropes of motherhood.

She is bringing little Eliza Anne home today. I can’t wait to go see her! And bring her lactation cookies. If any make the trip… they are that good.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Today, we went to brunch with my half of the family.

Mother’s Day is pretty relaxed this year, since my present is a trip to a local hot springs spa in a couple of weeks.

But shouldn’t it be?

I got a hug and a kiss this morning from my son, and that makes it Mother’s Day every day.