The Story of Mr Blue Eyes

Mr Blue Eyes is turning two. Where did the past two years go? I can’t imagine a time when he wasn’t here. The baby boy I longed for. If Muffin Man was the child who broke me, Mr Blue Eyes was the one who built me back up again. He was pure joy. I felt that pure, undying love the moment they laid him on me.

When Muffin Man was almost one we moved into our now home. As I was packing I marked boxes for ‘the baby’s room’. The movers were confused. No, I wasn’t pregnant, but I knew our family wasn’t complete. That missing piece was another baby. More specifically another baby boy. I’d walk past the empty room and just smile. I knew we weren’t finished growing our family just yet. Ever since I warmed up to the fact that I’d one day want children, I knew I wanted two boys. Along the way someone gave me hand me down clothes for Muffin. Among them was a brown, short sleeved onesie that read ‘Little Brother’. I saved it and prayed I’d be able to use it. I tucked it away hopefully. Don’t get me wrong, I melt for little girls. They are sweet angels. However I knew in my heart I was meant to be a boy mom.

The time came when I was ready to try for our second child. Muffin was almost a year and a half. We reversed roles for my second pregnancy. I felt confident and longed for this baby. My husband thought I was nuts as the first one was a handful. I knew in my heart it was time though and we were pregnant soon enough.

The day I found out I was pregnant I had it in my head that we needed a new couch asap. I went shopping and fell in love with a blue sectional. As I sat on it I sat in the corner where the couches connected. In this little corner nestled up I thought to myself, ‘This is where I’ll nurse the next baby.’. I left to pick up my Muffin. I came to a red light and as I sat there I said out loud, ‘I’m pregnant’. I just knew it. No wave of nausea. No significant signs. I just knew I was pregnant. My husband was out of town. I took Muffin and bought him a cookie, and myself pregnancy tests. It turned positive so quickly for it being so early. I cried. I was elated. Unlike the first pregnancy I wasn’t fearful. I was filled with pure joy. It was right before Father’s Day. This time I was able to box up some ‘daddy to be’ books, and my positive pregnancy test, and tell my husband in a cute way. You know, unlike the first time when I announced that we were idiots and wouldn’t leave the bed the next morning.

Fun fact: I’m one of those women who loves being pregnant. I know, I know. It drives people crazy. This baby didn’t make me a sweet Buddha as the first did. Man was I bitchy. I made it to 16 weeks and just had to know what the baby was. I was convinced it was a girl. I was terrified it was a girl. We went into the room and the ultrasound tech asked if we had children. Yes. What was it? A little boy. She asked if we wanted to know what this one was. Yes! She announced, ‘It’s a boy!’. I started bawling immediately. Tears streaming. How could I be this lucky?? How could I have my dream come true?? She thought she’d upset me and I’d surely wanted a girl. When I finally blubbered out, ‘I’m so happy!’. She sighed with relief and said she’d give us a moment. Everyone wanted me to have a little girl. EVERYONE. I was afraid with the announcement of my Muffin Man that others would be disappointed. Once again, they’d all hoped for a girl round one, too. The only names we agreed on easily were girls names each time of course. This time though I was so happy I didn’t care if anyone else was upset. This child was my blessing.

My labor with this one was easy. As easy as labor can be that is. The doctor promised me I’d have him out by lunch, and I did. They placed that fresh, screaming baby on me and I fell so hard. He had me wrapped since the moment I laid eyes on him. Someone told me you’d know when the my placed the baby in your arms if your family was complete. Here he was. My angel. My missing puzzle piece. My blue eyed baby.

We took him home and I adjusted so well. I was in heaven. All of my boys. He spent some time in the NICU at 12 days old. My heart broke. He is just fine, and it wasn’t life threatening. It was enough to shake me to the core though. After getting home I once again adjusted to my days with my happy blonde haired, blue eyed baby. So many smiles. So much fun. Muffin took to being a big brother immediately. He too melted for this baby boy. Is he was pissed at. Brother could do no wrong though. My entire pregnancy I cried thinking I’d never love anyone as much as my Muffin. That I’d favor him. My best friend told me you love them the same amount, but you do love them differently. This was so true. My connection and relationship with them is so different form one another even at (almost) two and four.

Now this sweet blue eyed baby tells me he loves me. Gives me kisses on my nose and rubs my face as I try to get him to sleep. He idolizes his brother. Tries to keep up with him. He knows his shapes (but not his colors), and sings his abc’s. He speaks full sentences and (lucky is) is extremely opinionated already. He’s a little tough guy. Still rarely cries. He keeps us on our toes for sure. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Two days before he turns two I can’t but think of how much of a blessing he’s truly been. How much we all adore him. How much fun it is to watch him grow and learn. Each day I’m grateful to be his mother. Even if he seems to make it his mission to try and harm himself daily. Fearless little booger.

Happy Birthday to my Mr Blue Eyes. My angel here on earth. The final piece to our family puzzle.

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