Kyle and I were walking in a large department store, and several women kept stopping me and asking me when I was due. I got embarrassed and angry, because I wasn’t pregnant, but said nothing to them. After the 10th woman asked me, I turned to Kyle and asked him if I looked pregnant, and he looked at my stomach, hesitated, and told me that I looked very pregnant. I looked down, and sure enough, I looked 9 months pregnant, ready to pop.
Sure enough, as soon as we got home, my water broke, and we rushed to the hospital in a panic, because we were completely unprepared for a second baby, and hadn’t even known I was pregnant.
My delivery only took minutes, and then the nurse handed a very large baby boy to me. He was huge. She informed me that he was 18 pounds and 6 ounces. I was speechless. Everything was foggy, and the nurse brought in a birth certificate, and told me I had to write his name down on it. Kyle had stepped out of the room, and despite the fact that we already had our names picked out for our potential future kids, I wrote “Joseph James” on the birth certificate… which is not the name we agreed on. Then, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, Kyle was waving the birth certificate in my face, asking why I wrote that name down. I didn’t know. I asked the nurse if I could change it, since that wasn’t the name we wanted, but she said it was too late, and told us to pack our bags, because they needed the room. I protested, as I had literally given birth a few hours prior, but she continued to rush us, and then pushed us out the door. I cried the whole drive home, completely overwhelmed, and not sure what we were going to do. We only had one crib, and absolute not clothes for a newborn, even though he was very large.
When we got back to the apartment, we sent the babysitter home, and I crawled into bed with my toddler and my newborn, and just cried.
And then I woke up.