And today, my friends, brings my baby's last first because this is his first "second:"his second Easter. For his first Easter, Little Spaghetti was only three days old (Easter was three weeks later this year!).
In fact, for his first Easter, I - like some insane person - decided it would be a good idea to dress my post-partum self up, take my three-day old baby into a ridiculously packed church, sit through a three-hour long mass, and have him baptized.*
Last year, I went to Easter Vigil mass (for any non-Catholics, this is the Easter service held the evening before Easter, and the mass really does go on for 2-3 hours) holding a tiny person that I did not know. I was beyond anxious. He fell asleep on the way to the church, and I was overjoyed. I wrapped all eight pounds of him in a white fleece blanket, and stuck a bottle with the ounce of colostrum, half breastmilk I'd desperately pumped a few hours before into my pocket. I held him for three hours. I was dripping sweat. I was sitting on my stitches, but couldn't move. I was dizzy and weak. I was sure that I was about to bleed through my ginormous hospital pad and onto the church pew. My arm felt like it was going to fall off. But I didn't want to jostle him or disturb him.
And he slept. He slept through the singing, through the bell-ringing, through the water being poured over his head. For three hours he slept. I couldn't have been prouder.
|After mass last year...still sleeping.|
|After mass this year...what a big boy!|
I've always liked Easter, but I think it may have officially solidified its spot as my favorite holiday. Any celebration that focuses on celebrating life is a winner in my book.
So Happy Easter to all of you. I hope you have a wonderful day!
Oh, and for the record, I am SO dying for a Coke!
*In reality, the baptism was awesome. Mr. Spaghetti was getting confirmed into the church at the same time, so the fact that they go to do it together was very sweet and special.