Ross

Ross entered this world with the same attitude he applies to all areas of his life: extreme determination.

I am overjoyed to be expecting my second child.

I faced an emotional crisis the day we were to find out the gender of our baby. That week, news broke during faculty lunch that a pair of past students had lured another former student to a secluded area and shot her in the head. We teachers were stunned, wondering what on earth lead those boys to do such a bizarre and hateful thing. As I drove to the ultrasound appointment, I found myself overcome with fear that my baby would turn out to be a boy. Girls don't trick people into meeting them and then shoot the person in the head. Girls aren't violent like that. 9 times out of 10, it's boys doing this crazy, criminal stuff. PLEASE don't be a boy! But as the specialist ran her equipment over my belly, I felt peace wash over me. I guessed what she was going to say before she made the big announcement, and I was finally more than ok with it.

To describe pregnancy as miserable is the understatement of the century. I remember counting how many times I threw up one night, just to pass the time. After I got up in the twenties I lost count. My throat became so swollen that I couldn't breathe and had to go to the emergency room. I know many of you mothers out there can relate. Just when I felt on the brink of despair, I had a dream.

Last night, I had the most precious dream. I dreamed that I got to hold baby Ross, and he looked up at me with a sweet smile, and we got to cuddle and be together. It felt like being reunited with an old friend. When I woke up, I received the inspiration that Ross and I are old friends, separated only by a thin veil of memory loss. I longed to hold my baby, and I felt so privileged to make the small sacrifices necessary to bring him into this world.

Ross came in a blaze of glory worthy of Hollywood. At 10:30 pm, I was suddenly doubled over with an intense contraction. Jason and I decided we better check our overnight things. Halfway up the stairs, I was hit with another one. Jason started timing them, but we couldn't even get the app up and working before I groaned, "Get me to the hospital!" He flew down 8th East going 70 miles an hour. The nurses tried to get me a wheelchair, but I couldn't sit down. I had a power-struggle with an anesthesiologist who felt I was too late for an epidural. No doubt he was right to be cautious, but I'm SO glad he agreed to give me the injection. It kicked in just in time for me to start pushing.

Ross was eager to be born. I only pushed for about 8 contractions before he made his way out. He was healthy, pink and screaming. So, the official stats are as follows: Ross Elliot Kempton, born July 26, 2017 at 12:20 am (delivery less than 2 hours!!) 9 lbs, 21 inches. PERFECT.

Whatever the difficulty, a huge benefit to raising your second child is the realization of how brief each stage is. Nothing lasts forever, so you tend to have more patience through the trials, and more satisfaction in the little things.

Dear Ross,

You are asleep right now, and I can hear you breathing. I love that you climb into bed with me every night and snuggle up against my back. I like to rub my lips against your hair and kiss your tiny little ears. It's the only time I can ever really get close to you. I also love you during the day, even as you're crashing and bashing around the house. You are the perfect piece to complete our family's puzzle. Your daycare teachers are so amazed at your appetite for learning, and I'm just thrilled to death to watch you recite your numbers, letters, and months. You make my heart glow.

Love always, Jess.