Silas’ Story – The Golden Child

I hesitate to refer to Silas as the “Golden Child” publically, because it is more of a joke Rick and I pass along. Because how can you not struggle with some form of favoritism when you have hoped for a boy for three babies and have gotten three girls.

Finally, we gave up.  We just assumed we would be a family of girls.  We had (by this point) decided that whatever God wanted to give us we would take.  No “stacking the odds.”  We just stopped planning.  Whenever a child happened and whatever it was we would be grateful.

Isn’t that just how God works?

So there we were, getting an ultra-sound waiting for the pronouncement of a girl and lo and behold … we had never seen a picture like this before. A BOY!!!!!!

Excited doesn’t even describe it.

His name had been picked five years before.  Silas Richard Schworer.

I had learned during Charlotte’s pregnancy that I needed to eat a little bit better.  So, I ate as if I was a diabetic and it really did help.  I didn’t get as large and he was my smallest baby.

I think the pregnancy passed with excitement.  I did not buy a lot.  People gave me a lot of boy clothes.  The most fun part was planning a boy room.  But how in the world do you raise a boy????

Rick says, in retrospect, how glad he is that God waited to give us a boy.  He felt much more prepared as a man in his thirties with a bit more of a serious nature and more focus on being a father to raise a boy.  All those girls didn’t mind being around mom all the time, but a boy needed a dad.

I remember the day he was born well.  It was a Sunday.  He was late. (Surprise, surprise).  I just sat in the morning service having my usual bombardment of contractions thinking, “Stupid contractions.  They mean nothing.  I’m never going to have this baby.”  Everyone who saw me that day commented on how “DONE I looked.”  I think they meant my countenance more than my belly.

Gma took us to Sizzler for lunch.  (The highlight of the day)  As I was walking around the salad bar a contraction just about knocked me over.  I turned to her and said, “Don’t tell anyone, because I don’t want any false alarms, but I think I might have the baby.”  It was a really good meal and I had a really great burger.  Oh.  Wouldn’t it be great if all labors were preceded by great food.  HA!

On the way home we drove on what seems (during all my pregnancies) to be the bumpiest road in all of Nampa.  It was then that I knew for sure that we were going to have a baby.  We made the necessary calls and off we headed to the Baby Place.

Silas’s labor was somewhere between the intensity of Lily’s and Charlotte’s.  There was never a dull moment.  I remember there somewhere during transition and I felt Silas shift.  It was as if he was trying just as hard to GET OUT as was trying to GET HIM OUT.  I remember saying, “We can do it buddy.  We are almost there.”  Then praying aloud. “God, please let this end soon.  I don’t think I can take any more.”

I never really felt the urge to push.  I think I was just tired and weary.  Coleen came over and suggested that I try and get to the stool to push.  OH!  I didn’t want to move.  What if another contraction came while I was trying to stand up?  I didn’t think I could handle it.  But Coleen has a quiet wisdom about her and I heeded to it.  I am so glad I did, because within a few pushes out he came.

I fell in love with my boy immediately.  There really is something about a mother and a son.  He had me.  I brought him home and caressed his head and loved him a snuggled him.  I didn’t mind waking up at night with him.  I would hold his binky in his mouth with one hand and stroke his hair with the other.

We call him the “Golden Child” because we have to be careful to recognize when he does something wrong;. “One of us” tends to be duped by his charm more than the other, and it is not as easy to spank him as it was the girls.

Truth be told, he has been easier than the girls.  He is of a quieter nature.  He isn’t dramatic.  Although he is very particular.  He has always been a neat nick.  He likes doors and drawers closed, toys in their spots, and cares what color cups he uses and shirts he wears. (I didn’t know boys had opinions like that.)  But he is a lover, not a fighter.  Although he does like to be physical.  He tries to get his way by calmly pronouncing what he is going to do or not do, or just pretend he didn’t hear me.  It took a while for me to catch on, “Hey!  You can’t tell me that! Obey!” *Pop*  He is VERY observant, communicative but could sit for an hour silently and watch me cook. He giggles when I cut his hair.  He likes to hear me sing.  He loves working along side his daddy.  I am glad he is going to be a big brother. 

That is Silas’ story.