Finally - full term!

Well, I can stop saying, "he should still be in my belly." On Wednesday, Miles in fact, should have been born. Weighing in at 7 lbs, 10.5 ounces, he is just your average newborn, except that we have just had 10 extra weeks to get to know him. We celebrated with cake, champagne and a few close friends.

I thought when we left the NICU, we could just put this whole thing behind us. Miles was thankfully quite healthy and to us, he was just our new baby. Not so fast.  Forgive us for being defensive. I am tired of being told he is small. Comments like, "oh, what a peanut," or "look how tiny" are old. When you have seen your son weighing 3 pounds, he seems like a fricking  giant to you.

Life with a preemie is complicated. For starters, what do you say, when someone asks his age? Umm. "Well, he is two months old but he was born early so is still really small. But he is really healthy." How early was he born, they might ask? 30 weeks, wow, he is OK, right? Repeat this conversation with the guy in the park, the mom in the mothers group at Day One, etc. 

Then there is the realization that I will never, ever be just a normal mom. Start out with the ritualistic Mothers Group. Golden Gate Mothers Group creates groups of moms by birth mom, giving moms a wonderful outlet to share experiences as their children grow up. I'd heard about this from many friends and look forward to the new friendships I might make. But there is a hitch. Which month to join? The November group when Miles was actually born or the February group when he was supposed to arrive. Arrive at the November group with a baby that looks like a newborn and listen while mom's discuss issues of a 2 month old. Not a fit. Or go to a February group where mom's are still recovering from delivery and the first days at home. Say what you will, but we just don't fit in, even if the other women are wonderfully accepting. We and Miles started off on a very different path. 

Maybe that is why on his actual due date, I really look forward to going back to the NICU. Yes, you read that correctly, go back to the NICU, for a visit. There, he was oohed and aahed over, noted for his chubby red cheeks and large blue eyes.  Although they said, job well done, mama, it is the nurses and doctors there that we must thank for his health. And there in the NICU, our story is not exceptional, sad, traumatic, worrisome or any of that. It is just par for the course. Unremarkable, if you will. Absolutely normal.

In time, we will make peace with the outside world and his age. By two years, he will be caught up with other November babies and the whole experience will be a faded memory. But for now, when asked his age, we just smile and say, ten weeks. No explanation needed.