When Big became Big

I really regret that I haven't been blogging or logging or writing all of this stuff down all along.  I have bits here and there, but Big has been an awesome kid and I have a thousand great stories to tell.  Instead of totally backtracking, perhaps I will touch on them in reflection as I blog along.  Today I feel the need to tell the story of when Big became Big because Little came into our world.

Big was eight when we became pregnant with Little.  Big knew even before Les Paul.  Summer vacation had just begun and I didn't feel great... we had been trying to have a baby, it hadn't panned out for some time, so we had kind of accepted being a one child family... a little flicker said why not?  I decided to take a pregnancy test.  I checked the results window and sent Big into the bathroom to see for himself.  We called Les Paul at work and Big blurted into the phone, "Mom is pregnant."  He looked like he would burst.  We were frank with him- it was very early, and anything could happen... so we waited out a few weeks, a bleeding scare, a day at the air show with Les' family - where Big asked every time a jet passed by "can we tell them now?" until the day came in late August - it was time to go public and we let him do the telling.  How proud he was that he was "Finally" going to be a big brother.

Big read the books. He would tell me how big the baby was any given week and we would discuss the comparable fruit or veggie sizes.  He attended ultra-sound appointments and was in the room to learn if it was a boy or a girl.  The Doctor was sort of drawing out the suspense "here is the baby's leg." "here is the baby's arm."  "here is the baby's heart."  Big walked over and said, "Yeah, I see the femur, now please tell me if it is a boy or a girl."  Not normally rude or impatient - he just couldn't take it anymore.  "It looks like Jenni is going to be even more out numbered - it is a boy."  To which Big quickly responded, "Oh, my Mom?  She will be just fine!"  The Dr. looked over his shoulder at the witty boy on the stool "how old are you?" he inquired. 

Everyone would ask how we thought Big would react to Little being born.  He had been an only child nearly 9 years.  I knew he would be just fine.

Flashing forward 42 weeks of waiting... and waiting...  Big's teachers wife even had her baby - who was due a full 3 weeks after us - we were planning to let Big be in the room for his brother's birth - but Little arrived quickly (after much a'do).  Les Paul left a few minutes after Little's first breaths to bring Big into the room.  He walked in and smiled a million dollar smile - "He is here!"  Big gave Little his first bath - so awesome.  When it came for saying good-bye that night Big asked if he could stay at the hospital, "I waited 42 weeks for him to be born.  I don't want to leave now."  How sweet is that?  Big stayed both nights at the hospital with us.

We brought Little home on St. Patrick's Day.  We had family for dinner and as an unseasonably warm breeze blew in Big piped up and said, "I know he was only born three days ago, but I can hardly remember my life without him."

I knew Big would be better than just fine - he was going to be a great big brother to Little.