So once the shock of being pregnant wore off, I did EVERYTHING I was supposed to do. I said hello to prenatal vitamins, and goodbye Tylenol for headaches and sciatica, my bloody mary became a virgin mary and no more sushi,***California rolls do not count, they are not sushi*** I planned for a drug free birth; that the Hubs quickly vetoed. Thank you baby Jeebus that he did too, because I was rushed in for an emergency c-section after twenty-two hours of labor. Which happened to be the easiest labor, ever. It was that that last hour that totally messed everything up. Thanks Gage.
But once Gage was born, I thought the biggest thing I would have to worry about would be autism. I swear, dumb, I know but I guess I have always been the “glass is half empty” type of girl. So we bought The Vaccine Book, by Dr. Sears and again, yes, I know that there has been no proven link between vaccines and autism, but we still chose to go through with the alternate vaccine schedule, and no flu shots ***I don’t tell you how to raise your kid, don’t tell me how to raise mine*** I nursed forever, used glass bottles, attempted to make my own baby food, Gage took one bite and refused to touch the stuff ever again. I might have even tried cloth diapers, but I throw Tupperware away if it’s been sitting in the refrigerator with food in it too long, so extra laundry wasn’t something extra I was willing to ad on to my to do list.
I would never have guessed that this is where my life would have taken me. A stinking cute toddler, with a terminal illness. A little person I love more then life it self, who if I could magically take this shit on myself and save him the pain, I would. I never thought that maybe Gages, first birthday could have been his one and only, or that the reason he would be getting his first haircut was because, I wanted it to on my terms and leukemia and chemotherapy could suck it; so we shaved it. And then it never fell out, because apparently 5% of kids do not lose their hair during chemo. Gage is one of those kids who doesn’t follow the “chemo rule book.” Everything that should not happen, happens and what should happens, doesn’t. Ain’t that the shit? Makes everything much more of an adventure.