Three weeks ago I was headed to the hospital to deliver our third child after nearly nine months of copious amounts of complaining on my part.
"My back hurts," "I'm tired," "My husband is TDY for five months" — I was even griping about how much I was griping.
Now it might be the sleep deprivation, or maybe the hormones, but my recent reflections on how awesome having military babies is would shock anyone who attended one of last year's pity parties.
It's not just the expectant mother parking at the commissary, or the 10 free days of daddy leave, or the leaving the hospital without so much as a receipt, let alone a bill — although any one of these perks is enough reason to brag to a civilian counterpart.
It's more the fact that in spite of circumstances that should have dictated otherwise, our military family has been there to help us through each pregnancy and new arrival with more grace than we thought we had left.
At my husband's first duty station, I was indignant at the number of baby showers I felt obligated to attend in honor of second, third or — gasp — fourth children.
I'm aware that these rituals, often termed "baby sprinkles," may be the cultural norm in different parts of the country, but in Colorado, where I'm from, they just aren't done. With my second child, I protested. But with this last one, I finally got it through my head that the military baby shower was not just about making sure we had everything we needed because, believe me, we did.
Military families love being there for each other, which is pretty darn great when your family can't physically be by your side.
And the ways we support each other and celebrate new babies almost always involve food — it's really the best thing. No one is signing up to bring a new baby meal because they have a box of mac and cheese that's about to expire; they are bringing real-deal, super-secret, tried-and-true family recipes passed down from distant relative Julia Child.
In actuality, an expired box of macaroni would be more than adequate because with my tired, hungry hormones, almost any act of kindness can bring me to tears. Lately, I've been a mess.
What civilian comes home to a big "welcome home baby" sign in their yard placed there by co-workers? Who has their spouse's boss swing by with a basket of swag for the newest family member? And where else but the military would you have to decline free child care because you've had more help than you know what to do with?
Our past year was difficult. So, too, will be the years ahead without my preferred parking space.
But it would have been so much harder without our military family.
This year, instead of pity parties, you can bet I'll be hosting baby showers and cooking up freezer meals instead of complaints.
