Pulling the goalie...Happy birthday Sophie

Tomorrow is my Sophie's 1st birthday. I have always been honest in that we did not plan her. We had toyed briefly with the thought of having a third baby but soon realized we were just bored and needed some projects around the house. Fast forward 5 months to me standing in the bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test chanting "no, no, no, no".
I had planned 2009 to be pretty much all about me. I had given up a lot for my family and completely neglected myself. I had stopped caring what I looked like when I left my house, was sort of fat and hadn't given a solid thought to me in about 6 years. I was determined to start working out again and saying yes to things. Side note: I've never been a yes person so I had planned to give it a try. I had said yes to a couple trips during the summer with people I had never wanted to go anywhere with and my husband was starting to like the new Sarah. Now I was about to give up me again for another person that I didn't think I needed.
Aiden and Elliot were at a great age. We had been able to take spontaneous trips and hang out as a family without too much hoopla. I had completely erased all baby files from my brains cabinet and I looked forward to the next chapter in my life baby free. When I saw that pink plus sign I froze and all I could do was say "no". I hadn't noticed (because I was so self absorbed with doom) that my then kindergartner was standing behind me in the bathroom listening to me cry "no" and that he was happy. No, he wasn't happy his loony tune mother was crying but he was happy he was going to have what he hoped was a baby brother. "Mom, can I be happy?" he said, and I was immediately ashamed of myself. I told him he could and that mommy was happy too but was just surprised.
Scott was not his son. He wondered if I had pulled the goalie (stopped taking my pill) and of course I hadn't. I let it sink in that I was that tiny percentage of idiots that gets pregnant on the birth control pill. Me! The chick that was so careful about taking that magic pill every night at the same time. Me! That hadn't planned one kid let alone 3!!!
The next 9 months were spent either beyond depressed or on my knees in front of the toilet. Sophie made sure that any extra food I got down would eventually come back up and I made it to January only having gained 11 pounds.
I spent most of my pregnancy riddled with guilt for all the women I knew that couldn't get pregnant. I tried to hide my irritation about the upcoming birth around those friends because I knew that they'd love to be in my position. I'd often wonder why God would give me another baby (a baby I had been actively preventing) and wouldn't grant that gift to my childless friends.
After Sophie was born (easiest delivery of a baby on record, I swear) I couldn't believe I had once not wanted her. She was so beautiful and perfect and completely wanted. Everyone in our family was in absolute love with her and couldn't picture our lives without that chubby little girl. Unfortunately the happy part stops there.
After 2 months she had started coughing all the time. I kept taking her to the doctor and kept getting sent home with one bogus diagnosis after another. RSV, common cold, allergies, etc. I knew that there was something wrong with her and spent the next couple of weeks trying to figure out what. I had to watch my tiny baby be pushed into x-ray machine that strapped her in a sitting position while she screamed. She would cough so hard she'd vomit and I felt helpless. After hearing the word allergy one more frickin time I took her to another doctor and demanded a whooping cough test (her doctor said it was impossible). She was diagnosed with whooping cough and given antibiotics and I was told that she would most likely need to be in the hospital. I couldn't believe I had been given this baby only to have her be taken away. I stayed awake at night so I could hear her cough and dig mucus out of her throat; I fed her constantly since she kept losing weight. She pulled through and remains the only baby in California under 3 months to have survived whooping cough without being hospitalised. While she was sick another baby died from whooping cough and I couldn't stop thinking about that mom who had probably been happy and excited through her pregnancy only to have this happen. More guilt.
Sophie June Cooper was born a tough ol' broad and remains the same today. She has definitely been a mamas girl (mostly because I huddled over her like a hawk) but also a funny, sweet, charming, flippin' cute little girl that I never knew I wanted but couldn't live with out. Happy birthday Sophie you deserve a great party and I hope I deliver tomorrow.