And then there were 2....

Two years and one month to the day later, our family welcome baby boy #2 into the family. Again with that pregnancy, I had to know what gender the baby was. And again, around 16-18 weeks gestation, I was told, "it's a boy".

I was relieved. I wouldn't have to buy many new clothes and we already had enough baby stuff to take care of a hundred babies. How bad could one more baby be?

That pregnancy was complicated by preterm labor severe enough to warrant continuous medication, frequent monitoring and complete bedrest (in those days, that meant one shower a day and as many trips to the bathroom as necessary but that was it!). I was dilated almost 2cm at 26 weeks gestation. I remember being checked by the resident on the labor wing when I noticed the contractions then and sitting up telling him, "You know he can't be born yet, right. You know he can't be born." Like he didn't know....

Thankfully, the interventions worked and I carried that pregnancy to 37 weeks also. By that point, the contractions had completely died down and I wasn't even having cramps let alone good contractions. I was induced halfway through my 37th week of pregnancy. Unlike the first labor, this one took only 3 hours. This baby was not like his big brother...he wanted out and he wanted out now.

His delivery was complicated by shoulder dystocia needing forceps for delivery. He either came down too quickly or was yanked out too quickly because he was bluer than a smurf when he was born. He didn't cry right away. I remember looking over at him and asking why he wasn't crying. The neonatal team was hard at work on him and then....he cried. And he didn't stop crying until one week before his first birthday! At just over 37 weeks, he weighed in at 9 pounds, 1 ounce. No wonder he got stuck!

What experiences we didn't have with our first son, we most definitely had with baby boy #2. He had terrible colic...cried most of the day....and seemed inconsolable. I spent most every night wandering around the living room with him trying to calm him down. Oh, the nights we spent driving around the neighborhood because only the motion of the car would put him to sleep. If I could have slept-driven, I would have!

Then, miraculously, one week before his first birthday, he slept all night. As any mother will tell you, the first time the baby sleeps all night, you aren't relieved. You're certain something terrible has happened. I jumped out of bed faster than I ever have in my life and raced to his room. I found him sound asleep among his Mickey Mouse sheets, comforter and bumper pads.

Whenever I asked any of my family to babysit for me, they'd say, "Oh, no, we can't watch the Ryan Monster" (his name is obviously Ryan, not monster!) It would take 3 or 4 of them to try to entertain him all night. My father shortened that name to Ry-Mo and now, my amazing 16 year old son goes by the nickname, "Moe". It suits him and it's a reminder to how far he's come (thank God!)

I sometimes worried that I was too busy with 2 boys to pay any special attention to Ryan. But whether it was by osmosis or by luck, he has turned out to be a great kid. Unlike his brother, he enjoys doing well in school. He's never misses the honor roll. I tease him all the time that it's fortunate he had a tough delivery (and only a 4 for his first apgar) because had he been born without trauma and didn't kill off a few brain cells, he would have been one of those nerdy kids who walked around with a pocket protector in his shirt chest pocket!

He's very good-looking but the opposite of his older brother...Moe has brown hair and golden brown eyes.

He also inherited the athleticism gene...he is a standout basketball player. He tried football but he doesn't really like the cold weather so that game was out!

Moe is the comedian of the family. Ever since he was a little boy, he's come out with the most interesting things. For example, one time during our family Christmas gathering, he leaned over to my 80-year-old grandmother and said, "Hey, Nanny, last night on MTV, I was watching a show about transvestites". He was all of 9 or 10. Yikes....God love my grandmother, she just said, "Oh, yeah, honey, tell me all about it."

There's a reason we call him "Moe"...I think my father picked the perfect nickname for him!