My little lime came.

It all started with a trip to Orlando. When my husband had a chance to take a class there we jumped on it. After a rough year we needed to get away, to escape our lives and small town if you will. While my husband was in class I spent my days at the pool or sleeping in. When my husband was finished for the day, we took in the “sights” went shopping, and ate at some amazing places.  It was a great trip and was just what we needed. We almost fully forgot everything going on back home. I say almost because while we were enjoying the sun, we got the call saying that we had 45 days to move out of our rental because the house had sold.

Once we got back to real life, I was stressed with trying to find a house, in a small town it’s really hard to find a year round rental, everyone does summer rentals and wouldn’t even think about it. I wrote off the extreme tiredness and nauseous feelings as being overly stressed and getting back to the grind. You can imagine my excitement as that “time” came and went, still I didn’t take a test. That wasn’t until two weeks later.

When I took the test I was “super” pregnant, the positive line showed up before the control line did. I knew Lime was a keeper and was satisfied with just one test, my husband made me take another and I didn’t have “enough” in me and barely got any on the stick. Still “super’ positive.

With less than three weeks left to move out, things started falling into place, I was pregnant and we found a place to move to. The next three weeks are a blur, packing, sleeping, working, moving, unpacking, more sleeping, and making myself eat. It all went by really fast and I am grateful it did.

At thirty-four weeks Lime wanted to come and party, I had a nice little talk with him and he stayed in. everything was great for the next two weeks, then on my way to my thirty six week appointment I got into a car accident, I was for sure Lime would come and  be here for Christmas. NOPE! He really listened to our talk and held strong and stayed in for another three weeks! I believe he only came at thirty nine weeks because there were talks of an “eviction” of some sorts. Being a gestational diabetic and knowing I was going to have a big baby the doctors were scared to let me go past forty weeks.

It might also have something to do with the plans we had to get everything perfect, my husband being at work for the night, fat kid hot dogs (smothered in cheese and Jalapenos) but I really think it’s because I changed the sheets to my favorite set. Either way he wanted to party and that’s just what he did.

My sweet boy is going to be TWO this month and I can’t fathom it. I feel like the time has flown by with a blink he has grown from the sweet newborn that I would hold for hours just staring at into the hilarious, sweet, loving, pirate of little boy, sorry correction, big boy. I can’t imagine my life without him and I remember my life before him,  but in reality my life really started the second I heard his cry.