My pregnancy with Jack was not like the others. There was no thought of me being pregnant and a cute reveal to Steve. I found out sitting at urgent care through a urine test. I wasn’t feeling well and they wanted to make sure I wasn’t pregnant before deciding what antibiotic to put me on. I was sitting on an exam table when the nurse told me. My exact words to her were, “I think you tested the wrong urine.” Surprise, I was not sick after all. My symptoms were all pregnancy-related.

I came home, woke Steve out of a dead sleep, and handed him the paper with the proof. To say we were both in shock was an understatement. I was 37. I felt done having babies. We had decided that spring I would take some time off in the fall to focus on Ella’s care. We had a plan and when we made that plan, Jack wasn’t part of it.

When you tell people you are pregnant, at what the OB world considers a geriatric age, and they know are raising a special needs child at home, you get mixed reactions. Some friends and family were genuinely ecstatic, while you could tell others forced their excitement. They had questions, and frankly, I did too. Ella’s birth wasn’t easy and the years that followed were filled with such uncertainty. Trying again seemed risky.

Jack gave me a wonderful nine months inside my belly. My pregnancy was the best one I had. I wonder if I didn’t have time to focus on the little things because I had two school-age children at home. I also had the luxury of resting during the day so I had more energy when CJ and Ella got home. I cherished every moment knowing it would be my last, and the time flew by.

Before Jack was born my OB had suggested a c-section. CJ and Ella both spent time in the NICU and I know he was trying to make this birth as easy as possible for me. I thanked him for his concern and graciously declined. I wanted to do all I could to deliver naturally. Recovering from a c-section meant I couldn’t carry Ella for weeks, and she needed me. I was determined to come home and take care of my babies.

The night I went into labor with Jack sheer panic took over. For hours I denied to Steve that I was in labor, despite barely being able to move as I was having painful contractions. I even tried to send him to work and convince him it was nothing. Eventually, my parents showed up and I was outvoted on going to the hospital. In my heart, I knew it was time but in my head I wasn’t ready for our life to change.

Labor was fun. The epidural only numbed one side of my body and I could barely feel my right leg. I made Steve rub it the entire time I was in labor because I was determined to get feeling back. That never happened and felt every bit of Jack’s almost ten-pound body exit my uterus. It would still be hours after I delivered that I regained feeling in my leg.

During each delivery Steve always got the first look. I loved that and made it a point to watch his face so I could share that unforgettable moment with him. When Jack entered this world Steve was emotional. I swore I saw a tear in his eye and my heart leaped. He is such an amazing father and loves our kiddos so much. It wasn’t long after that Jack was resting on my chest cuddling and settling in. All seemed right in the world. He was a chunky little man with a ginormous head. I was so proud of myself for enduring such an intense labor.

My recovery was amazing and Jack was eating like a champ. He was the largest in the nursery and the nurses couldn’t believe how he was housing his formula. The next day and a half were filled with visitors and tons of cuddles. We got the all clear for discharge and for the first time in three births, we were leaving the hospital with our baby. We couldn’t wait to get home.

Past birth traumas made Steve very antsy the morning of discharge. He first tried to convince me I could walk out of the hospital on my own. My wheelchair escort was taking forever and the staff had to gently remind him that was not protocol and we had to be patient. The second Jack and I cleared the exit Steve grabbed the car seat and briskly walked his way to the truck. We had made it to freedom and it was every man for himself. Worried I was being left behind, my kind nurse wheeled me to the truck Once Jack was secure Steve helped me get settled and we headed home.

There was no time for rest with a newborn and that night I spiked a high fever and was advised to return to the ER. Refusing because CJ’s kindergarten graduation was the next day, I medicated and moved forward. It would only be days later that I found out I was suffering from a UTI that was caused by my kidney stones. Those same stones landed me in the hospital a week later, needing a stent, and having to watch Ella’s pre-k graduation on zoom from my hospital bed. Month one of Jack’s life was wild.

Moving forward we did like most families with a newborn at home. We strived for survival. But then Covid hit, Steve was still working, the kids were at home, I had no help, the world shut down, and my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Suddenly having a baby seemed like a walk in the park. Looking back I can barely remember Jack’s milestones that first year. I was on auto pilot.

Here we are at five. We have endured so much together and Jack’s personality has been such a welcomed breath of fresh air. He has shown us that you can’t take life too seriously and in those truly dark days, when Ella was at her worst, he was the one keeping us all smiling. He was our missing piece and came to us with a purpose.

Only after Jack was a few days old did I learn the real reason why Steve was so emotional when Jack was born. He had come out with the chord around his neck, not breathing and blue. In that instant, Steve wasn’t quite sure what was about to happen and that terrified him. His entire life Jack had kept us on our toes, why wouldn’t he start from the second he was born?

Jack is fierce. He’s strong. He’s cuddly. He has the best laugh and loves his mama so very much. Sweet Jack Thomas, you are perfection. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Here’s to a lifetime of unforgettable memories!

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