I’m a little mushy right now. My daughter turns 10 this month and I can’t believe it. Thinking back to when she was born, I can do nothing but smile– and get mushier. I never thought it would be so nice to have a December baby.
Growing up in southern California, I had no idea that I’d end up living my adult life in snowy Michigan. When I was pregnant the first time, with my son, I was so happy to be expecting in the summer. I love summer: warm breezes, sunny days, and time spent outside. Happiness!
When I got pregnant with my second child, I was dismayed to realize that my due date was in December. Cold, snowy, dark December. I worried about whether postpartum depression was more common then. I worried about driving to the hospital in a snowstorm. I worried about the dangers of having a newborn to tote around during the coldest months of the year. I worried about all the fools who said things like, “Oh, it’ll be hard to have a birthday so close to Christmas.”
Worrying in vain
I worried about December and I didn’t like it. Turns out, I worried in vain.
My daughter came on a snowy weeknight. However, I did not fret about the snow or darkness, only about making it to the hospital in time, as she came much more quickly than her brother. My two-day stay in the hospital at Christmas time was—dare I say it—peaceful. The hospital was decorated beautifully. The demeanor of the nurses was happy. After I cursed my way through labor, the remaining time was spent listening to a Christmas album as my husband and I cuddled with our newborn. My husband even found our daughter’s name on a Christmas tree ornament in the gift shop. That ornament is still so special to me.
We drove home on a dark, snowy night. But again, it was peaceful. There was no one else was on the road and I didn’t have the first-time jitters that marked the ride home with my firstborn. The next few weeks of caring for my newborn during the Christmas season went by sweetly. I nursed by Christmas lights. I ate good food that other people cooked. I had the greatest excuse for skipping Christmas busywork and just enjoying the season. Having a baby at the holidays? It was everything I did not realize it could be.
Happy birthday, my Christmas baby. I love you!