Remember how when I was pregnant, I thought I was going to have a two-headed baby? And obviously, if I had a two-headed baby, I'd have to have a c-section, so not only would I have failed the natural birth class we spent HOURS going to each week, I'd also have, you know, major surgery? And then, the doctor on call would probably be drunk and cause all kinds of chaos and maybe cut my fallopian tubes and leave me unable to have any other kids? And then, after all that, we'd have to decide whether we wanted to separate the two heads of the baby, except that there would only be one body, so "separate" would just be a nice way of saying "decapitate one of the heads?" And then, if we *did* separate the heads, one of our baby-heads would die and the other one would be left resenting us for killing his brother, but if we didn't then which head would control the body? Would they take turns? Would we have to work out some kind of schedule? If they were having a fight and it was Head A's turn to control the body, would Head B randomly take control of an arm to use it to slap Head A across the face? And OH MY GOD, WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE MESSED WITH THIS WHOLE HAVING-A-BABY-RUSSIAN-ROULETTE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
Yeah. Those were fun times, huh? Luckily, everyone got through it, no one got decapitated, no one had a drunk, fallopian-tube-cutting doctor, and we've spent a very blissful 11 and a half months enjoying our one-headed baby.
But I was lying in bed last night, unable to sleep (as usual), and I started thinking about the things I was afraid of when I was pregnant and I thought, "Gee, I was so silly. What ridiculous fears I had. Goofy, pregnant woman."
And then, I started thinking about how really, we've been so blessed this year because Luke is just such a healthy, happy kid. He's had all of two colds which were annoying at the time, but took care of themselves in time. No ear infections, no antibiotics, no food sensitivities, heck, not even a bad bout of teething yet.
And THEN, I started thinking about how maybe everyone has a quota of illness in their life and if he has had such a healthy first year, maybe it means that he'll have to fill his illness quota later on in life. Maybe it means he'll have the disease that turns people into trees, you know, the one that was on the Discovery Channel a couple of months ago that I didn't want to watch, but I turned to the channel and then couldn't turn away? Or maybe he'll eat some bad pork and end up with a tapeworm in his brain. Or maybe he'll have childhood cancer and need to have chemo and radiation and all his hair will fall out and he won't be able to keep anything down and he'll have to spend his nights all alone in a hospital because they won't let me stay with him.
And THEN! I started thinking about The Secret. You know. The idea that you "call" things to you by thinking about them? And what if that's true and I just called cancer, a brain tapeworm, and the tree disease to my baby?
And then, I pulled the blanket over my head and hyperventilated myself to sleep because GOOD GRIEF, WHO THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO LET ME HAVE A KID?
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Well, at least the no antibiotics thing is good! We had a neonatal seminar today, and that was one of the things we discussed. We talked about how taking antibiotics in the first year or 2 of life can cause the gut to NEVER colonize normally. So I was like, oh great, Ryan is ruined due to all his ear infections, dog attack, nose slicing, and c-section birth. Oh, and to add to the c-section birth...his gut never even began to colonize normally because he was a c-section baby. Vaginally born babies colonize normally with vaginal and fecal bacteria, but c-section babies colonize with hospital bacteria. Gross. And Ryan's gut will probably never be colonized normally. Ha, just a thought!
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