The Long And Winding Road

At 29 years old, after a precarious pregnancy and the subsequent traumatic events following the birth of my daughter, I was done having kids.
Finished.
Office closed for business.
I was perfectly content mothering my little son and his baby sister.
Then…
Divorce happened.
I took my small children and left.
And we started our very own journey down a long and winding road, called life.
My babies and me.
And life was great.
We had our routine.
We had our life.
Hand and hand.

But after awhile.
It was time.
I began to date.
To begin a new chapter in our journey.

Actually…dating is an understatement.
I was a career dater.
It was my full time job.
I was good at it. And I, aside from a couple wackos and lousy dates, enjoyed it.
I had this one serious boyfriend. It only lasted about 6 months.
And, it was before I met my now-husband.
This guy had ALMOST every qualification on my list.
No kids.
No ex-wife.
A doctor…yeah, I’m shallow like that.
His family lived in another state…and if you have been hanging with me for a long time, you know how I feel about in-laws…(another post, another time)
He was nice looking.
He was kind, considerate (when he wasn’t on call or bombarded with studying).
But…his religious beliefs and my religious beliefs…clashed. Tremendously. And I couldn’t raise my children in a home that had a huge religious division.
So…
Sadly, I said goodbye to him.
And sadly, he said goodbye to me.
And he got married six weeks later. I know, right?!

But then…
I met my THIS guy.
And man, did I have a crush on him.
We had a great time together.
It was kismet. Beshert. Meant to be.
So much in common.
Our family history.
Strange and unusual connections.
It was right.
Everything about it.
I loved him, pretty much very early on.
But…
His failed my list. MISERABLY.
He had kids.
His family lived WAY TOO CLOSE.
He had his kids way more that their mother did.
The bio-mom…oy. vey.
He was a teacher…not that there is anything wrong with being a teacher!! But I had these silly notions about finding a doctor…what can I say?

But when he proposed over a carry out chicken dinner, after 5 months of dating…
I enthusiastically accepted.
And we went from yours and mine…
to ours.
Yes ma’am, they’re all mine.
We drive a big car, that’s how I get them from point A to point B.
Thank you, I think they are beautiful too.
Yes, I do have my hands full. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Only, the one thing I NEVER thought about.
The one thing that NEVER entered my mind.
Was having another child.
OUR child.
Which would make everything come full circle.
I had already made this gigantic transition from Mommy of two to Mommy of four.
And four was a lot.
And one of them was like having four more…(again, another post, another time!)
So really, it was not even in my realm of possibility.
Not even in my stream of consciousness.
Until that March.
8 months after we said our “I dos.
When we kind of half decided to start throwing caution to the wind.
And we gave each other “the look”.
And almost immediately after being told by his ex-wife, that I shouldn’t hold my breath about getting pregnant so easily. Because it took her FOREVER to get pregnant. So I shouldn’t worry.
Boy, did I prove her wrong.
Because, the second that warning left her lips, I found myself holding a positive pregnancy test…
And I would go from Mommy of four to Mommy of five…

Now…
those two lines on the EPT is 5 1/2.
Five and a half years old.
Where did the time go?
My baby.
MY BABY.
Will be graduating…from preschool.
Which doesn’t seem like such a big deal.
It’s just preschool, right?
But to me, this graduation marks moving from babyhood to childhood.
My baby, as of next Friday…
the day before my daughter is called to the Bima as a Bat Mitzvah…
MY BABY.
The one that I never imagined ever having…
will become a little man.
He will go from being a preschooler to a Kindergarten student.
His babyhood will be left behind with the memories of pacifiers and diapers.
Once kindergarten comes…
It goes by in a blur.
And I tried so hard to hold on. To keep him little. For just a little longer than my bigger kids. Because he was my baby. My youngest.
But now there is no stopping. No slowing down.
And before I know it…
I will be planning his Bar Mitzvah.
My baby.
The one who came along when I already was done.
The one who completed OUR families journey down our long and winding road.
My baby.
Because really…
I guess…
That’s what he’ll always be.
MY BABY.
Who is starting his journey. Down his own long and winding road.
And I’ll be there…
holding a map.
Just in case he gets a little lost.

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