It seems unfathomable that 5 years ago tonight, on the eve of his birth, I could be found in our garage hyperventilating in the passenger seat of our car. We had just dropped off a suitcase toting Dallas at Aunt Mimi's house, where he would be snug as a bug in a rug while we prepared for the birth of our 2nd child. We would be setting our alarm for 5:00am, not wanting to be late for our 7:00am date with Dr. Carter and big fat bag of pitocin. Yuck.
It was my idea to get pregnant a second time. We always knew we wanted several children, but not long after Dallas was born Tony decided that life simply could not get any better. He was completely satisfied; the patriarch of a family of three. I had other plans and when I found out I was expecting again I could not have been happier. (Tony warmed to the idea, too. He's a champion.)
Fast forward 8 months. Dallas turned three. We moved into a darling new house in Heritage Commons. I battled gallstones. Dallas battled window mouldings and baseboards resulting in two trips to the ER and two opportunities to be stitched back together. Tony battled new homeowners whom he could not build houses for fast enough. We drove to Las Cruces New Mexico and rode 4-wheelers and hiked to the very bottom of the Carlsbad Caverns. Tony and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. Dallas and I swam in the neighborhood pool almost every morning. The feeling of weightlessness felt wonderful on my heavily pregnant body. Then we were dropping Dallas off at Mimi's. We would see him again when we were a family of four.
I sat in the car sobbing, wondering, what have I done? Tony was right. Dallas was absolutely perfect - how could I possibly love another? I didn't want to love another. I did not want another child taxing the bond I had created with Dal. I remember specifically uttering the words, "If I could take it all back, I would. If I could snap my fingers and make this pregnancy go away, I would."
Can you imagine? I was scared beyond belief.
Looking back I realize so much of my anxiety stemmed from the actual birthing process. I'm not a fan. Bringing Dallas into this world was not easy, and I was scared sh*tless to do it again. Pardon my French. But I set my alarm, and believed Tony when he told me that giving Dallas a little brother or sister was the best gift I would ever give him.
The morning of November 9, 2004 started much the same as it had the last time I was in a delivery room. Slowly. My babies prefer to stay inside me, and take a whole lot of coaxing to make an appearance. Although we had agreed not to find out the sex of this baby until (it) was born, I was convinced (it) was a girl. Molly Elisabeth Luchini. I had prepared her nursery with the sweetest bedding from Pottery Barn. It was bright pink and grass green with white ric rac and some embroidered butterflies and flowers. Precious. Just like the little lady I was carrying in my belly. Labor was long and we decided to pass the time by scanning some lists of boy names, just in case. Actually, I didn't need to scan the list. I loved the name Luke. Tony, however, needed the lists. All 100 or so pages of boy names. He wanted to read every single name on the lists before we opened the discussion. I couldn't get out of bed due to the pitocin, and so lay there, on my left side, watching him read. When he would stop and consider a name I would immediately want to know which name he was circling. Reed? I loved the name Reed. Owen? Max? Thomas? Luke? But he wouldn't talk to me until he had finished the entire list.
The contractions were becoming more "productive" and my patience were wearing thin. Very, very thin. We should have waited to start the selection process until after the epidural.
Finally Tony cleared his throat and announced, "Okay, here are my top three names."
#3 Bishop
Excuse me?
Did you just say Bishop? Admittedly, it's a really cool name, but growing up in an LDS home I just couldn't go there.
NEXT
#2 Vincent
Is this a joke?
Seriously, you want to name our kid Vinny? Vinny Luchini?
I was speaking passionately, and was heatedly opposed to both Bishop and Vinny. In communicating this information I inadvertently offended and hurt Tony's feelings. But since his cervix was not in the process of dilating, nor was he awaiting a giant needle injected directly into his spine, I didn't really give a crap if his feelings were hurt.
He didn't want to tell me his #1 name. I had to beg. Yeah, me. The one on the table about to push a live being out of my body, was begging him to get over it and tell me his #1 name.
At this point I would have been happy with almost anything.
Almost.
#1 Rocco
No
freaking
joke.
Rocco Luchini?
If I could have leaped from the bed and strangled him with my IV drip hose I would have.
I believe the best defense I could offer was, "He's gonna be in school one day. Do you have any idea what his teacher will think when she gets her class roster and sees ROCCO LUCHINI is in her class? Do you? DO YOU?"
I was not in the mood to discuss the matter any further.
It probably wasn't even noon yet and we had a long day ahead of us.
As the clock ticked and the nurses' shifts changed, Tony and I reluctantly began speaking to one another again. I needed his support. Eventually they were going to tell me it was time to push and I really, really didn't want to do that. I didn't want there to be any pushing involved at all. Did I say I don't like the pushing part? Well, I don't.
Dinnertime came and went and I knew from experience that it was going to be a long night. At 7:00pm Dr. Carter came in one more time to check me before going home for a few hours to rest. We'd been here before. It was probably going to be a long night for him, too. The exam took us all by surprise. I was 10 cm and it was showtime! As the nurses began the hustle and bustle of prepping the room for the delivery portion of labor and delivery, Tony used the phone attached to my bed to call our families and tell them I was going to start pushing. They should probably think about heading to the hospital in a couple of hours.
You know how in movies when a woman is pretending to give birth and she starts to push and everyone starts screaming for her to STOP pushing and wait for the doctor to arrive? THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME! One little practice push and the whole place went crazy. Tony was still on the phone telling our family I'd be pushing for a few hours while Dr. Carter was changing into his scrubs faster than you can say, "holy crap!"
It was only a few minutes after 7:00 pm. Tony was off the phone. The camcorder was strategically placed to only record G-rated material. Dr. C and the nurses were ready. Dr. Carter informed me that our baby had lots of hair. The thought of a daughter with a thick head of hair made me giggle. Molly had hair! Of course she did! I giggled even harder when I realized that my giggling was all the pushing I was going to have to do that evening. There was no fear, no anger, no gut-wrenching hard work. Just laughter and he was here.
"It's a boy!" Dr. Carter exclaimed.
The laughter continued.
Upon my chest was placed a child. My baby boy. The first thing I noticed was how long his fingers were. His hands were so big. He was clutching the neck of my nightgown. He was beautiful. He was quiet. He was still. Pressed to my chest he continued to grip my nightgown. He didn't cry. But we were not worried. And his hair! Gorgeous, long and silky black hair. It covered his ears and grew down his neck. My 9 pound 7 oz. baby boy had long, luxuriously dark hair. It was a lot like having your cake and eating it, too. Dallas had a little brother and I could braid his hair.
It took me a couple of days to talk Tony into naming him Luke. I had to promise my husband that if and when we have a 3rd son we will name him Rocco.
Happy Birthday Luke Anthony Luchini!
I can't imagine life without you.
xoxo
Mommy
