Sunday morning, trying to grasp even an extra few minutes of sleep, we let the kids play in the study. When I got up and came downstairs, I noticed they had gotten into the packs of photos in the closet, more specifically, the photos of me in the operating room during my third c-section. If I had a choice, there would not exist photos of me in the operating room during my third c-section, let alone some of the pretty graphic ones my hubby took. But there are, and the kids got into them. I gathered them up, put them away, and we headed down to breakfast.
The fact that my children were not delivered vaginally has been explained to them. When explaining "how babies are born" we were always very straightforward about the preferred method and the method by which my three sons arrived on this earth.
Later that morning, when I was getting my three-year-old dressed he said to me "Mommy, you're so pretty" (for some reason, he says this all the time). Then he said "I love you because......(something unintelligible)." I said, "What?" And he repeated himself, and this time I understood...
"I love you because they had to cut us out of your belly."
What else can I say about that?
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