Sigh...I keep going back and forth over whether I should just give up the blogging ghost. Should I try to keep it alive? Recognize that it's served its purpose and let it go? I dunno. There's a part of me that will always want to return to it, I suppose. It just won't be regularly. And that will have to be okay (for all 2 of my remaining faithful readers).
So, I gave birth. Again. About a month and a half ago. This time around was wild. I mean, thank God everything went well. I don't mean anything negative happened. I just mean that it was...let me try to explain without going into all the gory details. Remember, I was induced. Basically, I was administered some agents to kickstart the process. Once I reached the halfway point, let's say, my water was broken for me. And less than two hours after that was done, buddy was born. Now, if you've never given birth, you might be thinking, well, that seems reasonable. Let me try to put things in perspective for you. Last time, I went into labor on my own and reached the hospital at that same halfway point. Seven hours later, my first little buddy was born. What I'm trying to say is this: what built up over a seven-hour period the first time was condensed into a two-hour period the second time. Like I said, it was wild.
What was funny (in retrospect) is that the doctor thought he was going to just, er, check to see how things were going, and I was basically like, naw, playa, the baby is coming, I have to push NOW. And homeboy had to deliver little bud with one hand because he didn't have time to put a glove on the other hand.
Here he is, a month and a half later:
Why did we name them with the same first initial? We'll be calling them each other's names from here on out, I guess. And I am outnumbered for life. Because we're done. Us four and no more.
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