Now you are 12.

Hold onto your Butts, people. My Oldest is 12 today. Here's to you, kiddo. 

See the date Kiddo? October 4th, 2004; My 18th Birthday. 

That is the day I found out I was pregnant with you. You were due to be born on My Mother's (Mimau's) birthday. 

You have watched enough Teen Mom shows with me to know that 18 is super young to have a child. Your Father and I, were fresh out of High School, we had just moved into our first apartment together. I was in school for a Paralegal program, and waitressing 3rd shift at a Diner. Your Father had gotten a decent job at a factory, he also worked 3rd shift. 

 

We were scared to death to tell our parents we were having a baby. We knew how young, inexperienced and completely unprepared we were to bring a baby into the world. We were very lucky that our families chose to support us, and believed that though it would be difficult, we were capable of being parents. 

I had trouble throughout my pregnancy with you. I was in and out of the emergency room with various issues, and at times we were not sure you would make it. To complicate matters, my job was totally unforgiving, and actually fired me. Being on my feet all night, running around, lifting, carrying, it made my muscles tense up, I would bleed and end up in the emergency room making sure you still had a heartbeat. 

It was scary enough being so poor, so young, and now on bedrest. I cried a lot, I was terrified about not having any money, and I was not able to go back to work safely. Your Dad picked up as many hours as he could though, we occasionally got food from a Salvation Army, and your Grandma Patti had us over every Sunday, and always made sure we had a big dinner. 

I was really lonely, and because your Dad was on a 3rd shift schedule, I would be up all night, by myself. I had made lots of friends (Whom I still have today) at the Diner while I worked there. They were all upset, it wasn't fair I had gotten fired over medical issues. They started coming over at night, and keeping me company. We would listen to music, drive around town, plan fun dinners, and watch tons of old Movies. It was a great time, and it was so nice to finally feel positive again. 

Just as I settled into my life again, and thinking that my Pregnancy troubles were over, something went wrong. at about 20 weeks pregnant, I went into labor. Looking back, it is ironic you were in such a hurry to come out, because I don't think you have ever been in a hurry for anything at all. But at 20 weeks, you were not ready to come out, Babies that little just cant survive, and die shortly after birth. 

I had to stay in the hospital for over a week, while the doctors attempted to stop my labor. They put me on these crazy muscle relaxers that eased my body, and stopped the labor. The medicine made me feel like I was floating, I drooled because I couldn't control my facial muscles, and every time I tried to get out of bed I would just fall over. That probably sounds scary, but when I see the pictures of me during that time, looking like death, pale, and drooling, I laugh. 

 

I really had to take it easy once I was released from the hospital. I was on bedrest again up until a few weeks before you were born. Mine, and your Dad's family stepped up in a big way to help out during this time. knowing I couldn't work, and you were coming, I was thrown 2 baby showers. Your Dad and I were overwhelmed at the amount of love, and support we got. There was not a single item we needed for your arrival, the baby showers provided us with clothes, diapers, toys, and other necessary baby furniture. 

Because you are who you are, I had to be induced, meaning once it was actually time for you to come out, you wouldn't. To complicate matters, the fluid surrounding your little body had slowly leaked out, and you were at a alarming risk of infection. 

Once this was discovered I was admitted immediately to the hospital. hooked up to IV's, I waited for the labor pains to begin, family started pouring into the hospital to await your arrival. 

Annnnnd nothing. Nada. Zip. 

Little jerk. 

 

It took a lot of meds to get you to start moving your Butt, let me tell you that! What should have taken a few hours to kick in, ended up taking 2 days. But finally, FINALLY, after months of worry, we knew you would be coming. 

I initially insisted I was a big girl, and that just your Dad and I would be in the room for your birth. I said I didn't need any assistance from anyone else. But 1 hour into labor pains, I cried, and asked for my Mom. Then, in her infinite wisdom, Mimau pulled in your Grandma Patti to be in the room as well. 

Finally, at 5.25.2005, and 5:05pm, you arrived. All 6lbs and 2 oz of you. Secondary to mine and your Fathers glee, was the site of Mimau, and Grandma Patti, crying, embracing, and becoming the lovely Grandmothers you have today. 

 

Family poured in, almost immediately. Aunts, Uncles, friends. My Dad, your Grandpa Jon was in Colorado for a convention, he and Grandma Jenni hopped the next flight out,  arriving the next day. Your Grandpa Mark (Bukka) patiently waited his turn in the hospital, you know how he is, big, gruff- He patiently waited day and night for the chance to hold you, I think I saw his heart melt when he first held you. 

 

When we finally got home from the hospital with you, to our 1 bedroom apartment, we marveled at how perfect you were. How could you be so perfect? We certainly were not. Hell, we were messes. We loved you so much, but we kept screwing up. Newborns are tiring, kiddo. Like, up all night, up all day kind of stuff. Your Dad had to get back to work right away, leaving me alone with you, still recovering from your birth. I was sore, I couldn't sit right for a month, and there were times that I fell asleep sitting up feeding you. I swear there were entire weekends we wouldn't leave our room, we were just trying to sleep whenever you did. Then when we did get out of the house, we would forget the most basic things, like buckling you into the carseat, not just putting you in it. Or the one time we pumped gas with the car still running. 

 

Good news though, you survived infancy without any remarkable brushes with death! 

You survived, with tons of help from our families, but as you know, me and your Dad didn't. It was sad, and difficult. We were young, and were just learning who we were as adults. We both moved on, married, and got back to the business of building separate lives, and careers, with you in the center of it. 

Lucky you, you got 2 amazing Step-Parents, people that love you so much, and have had equal roles in raising you. I feel happy that I can say our lives are infinitely better, because of the people your Dad and I chose to Marry. 

So here we are today; Today, you are 12. You reside in 2 homes, in nice neighborhoods, you have 2 rooms scattered with toys, legos, and Pokemon cards. You have been on Vacations across the country with both of your families, you have gotten Tai Kwon Doe Belts, broken boards with your feet (The feet which once fit in my hands, and are now bigger than my own feet!) you have ran in marathons, begrudgingly completed track, soccer, and swimming, been featured on a magazine cover, been to Disneyland, and once one a costume contest at Comicon. 

You are exceptionally giving, wickedly funny, and absolutely, always true to yourself. A trailblazer in your own right, your interests sometimes befuddle me, but I love it. You are a great big Brother to your Sisters (when you can stand them), and I am quite certain your Obama care jokes will never get old. 

You may wonder why I need to tell you all of this, Momma is long winded, but is surely convinced of her mission. 

You see, Son, every Super Hero has a origin story. 

This one is yours. 

Happy Birthday, my Darling Son. I love you forever, I like you for always. And I also love you more than all of the Pokemon in the rolodex, or whatever thats called. ;) 

Xo Xo, 

Momma.