Phone Pix Part Deux

Phone Pix

Since my good camera is in China, I have to make do with my cell phone. Because we all know I can't go 12 days without taking pictures of the baby...

Wyatt is being a protective big brother.

Mycah recommends bicycle kicks to stay fit.

Exhausted after her morning workout on the baby gym.

Does this dress make my head look big?

Hello, my name is Mycah, and I'm a binky addict.

First night in her crib.

A little screen time with the bro.

If those things were hanging over my head, I'd make that face, too.

And last but not least...

Tanner and Johnny wanted to be burritoed, too. :)

5 Weeks and counting...

Yes, it's true. I've been at home for 5 weeks now and have only posted...once? twice? It's not that I don't have time. I'm home all day - I can't play that card. It's that nothing zaps your creativity like a newborn. A few times I've thought: "THIS would make a funny blog post." but to actually spend the energy to compose it didn't seem worth the time and effort.

Mycah has been a great baby - I've been able to get so much done during this time. The basement and garage are on their way to being organized. I still can't get the cars in the garage but we can walk through it without danger of losing an appendage or a child. It's progress.

I've kept the house clean and laundry done - a feat for which I feel a huge sense of accomplishment. Do you have any idea how much laundry 5 people accumulate?! I'm realizing that we have way too many clothes. I shouldn't be folding six large loads of laundry and still see overflowing hampers in all the bedrooms. At any given time, the washer or dryer (or both) is running, and there are multiple full baskets dotting my bedroom. Not the decor I had in mind for the room that is meant to be a haven to rest my weary head. Staring at endless piles of clothes is so not restful.

I haven't done so well on meal preparation. When the frozen casseroles and meals-for-moms ran out around week 3, I wanted to cry (I think maybe I did). I hate cooking, and I hate it even more when I'm tired. The problem is, I have chosen a dietarily high-maintenance man, who likes (and needs) his healthy, well-balanced food. Thankfully, he is quite capable in the kitchen but I'm not gonna lie: I haven't cooked one single time since he's been in China (for the past week), and it's been wonderful. Frozen and boxed meals are my friends.

I've become a scrapbooker. I couldn't find a baby book that I liked, so I decided to make my own. As luck would have it, scrapbooking paraphenalia was 60% off at JoAnn's recently, and I stocked up. I haven't scrapbooked since Tanner was a baby, and it's kinda fun. But it also takes me FOREVER, so I don't see this as a lasting hobby. But for now, it's something to do in between loads of laundry and feedings, and while watching crappy daytime TV.

One thing I haven't done is nap. Whoever said "sleep while the baby's sleeping" obviously didn't have a family or a home. If I slept when the baby was sleeping, we'd be living in squalor and going naked and hungry. It's just not gonna happen. The few times I've laid down for a nap, I've eventually given up with a sigh of resignation, and headed to the coffeepot. I also can't seem to get to bed early. I'd like to, but it never happens. The result is that I've discovered that I can function on 5 to 6 hours of sleep and not completely fall apart. At least for now. I think going back to work is going to kick my butt if I keep that schedule.

Going back to work. Ick. I have loved being at home in Blissful Babydom. Yeah, the 3 hour feeding routine gets a bit tedious sometimes, and yeah, a 5 week old isn't exactly a stimulating conversationalist, but I could so do this for awhile and be perfectly content. I can't imagine keeping up on all the bloody laundry, and making/cleaning up dinner, and keeping the house clean, and meeting the baby's needs, and being present to my boys and my fiancee when I have to spend 9 hours a day in a stupid office. People do it so I guess it's possible. We'll see.

So there you have it - 5 weeks in a nutshell, minus the gooey, gushing stories of how amazingly beautiful my baby is. She is perfection. What an incredibly blessed person I am - I just can't believe it. I can't believe that Jason and Jayden and Tanner and Mycah are mine. I can't believe this is my life.

But it is. Wow.

One Year

When my neighbors invited me up for dinner one Thursday last May, I had no idea it was a set up. They said another friend was coming over, too. A nice guy they thought I would like. Somehow, I didn't connect the dots that they meant like and not just...like.

It wasn't until he showed up with a bottle of wine and acted extremely, umm...nervous...that I realized this was more than a casual dinner affair. Once it dawned on me that I was being set up, I groaned internally and prepared myself for an awkward evening of making nice. I plotted my early exit while I made polite small talk and gulped wine.

I'd like to say that Jason wooed me from the beginning, and that night was the start of our beautiful life together, but it wasn't. He was nice, and he was cute. He played on an adult soccer team that I was really interested in joining. Other than that, sparks failed to fly.

But the next week, there he was, knocking on my door and asking me out to dinner with him and the neighbors. Not taking no for an answer. I went, because dinner out with adults sounded like fun, but thinking it could get weird when I had to tell him I wasn't interested. We went to Outback Steakhouse, and the waiter came to take our drink order.

He ordered a gin and tonic. He had my attention.

As we talked, we began to uncover a lot of commonalities (not related to cocktail preferences), and I began to give the guy a closer look. He broke so many of my dating rules. In fact, I think he broke all of them, and yet....after that dinner I began to wonder about this man.

He showed up again the next week, and this time he came bearing gifts. He brought tiki torches for my patio, with a million dollar line that hooked me: "No need to thank me. I consider these an investment in my future." Ha! Little did he know...

We spent our summer nights talking for hours by the light of those tiki torches. It wasn't long before I was a smitten kitten, and no one was more surprised by that than me (except maybe him). Neither one of us was looking, and neither of us expected the other to be The One. And yet, here we are, one year later...

There's a song by The Script out now that is a perfect melody for our relationship. After our eventful first year together, it often feels to me like Jason and I have been together for much longer than we actually have. Has it really only been one year?! We've packed a lot of life-altering changes into a very short time, and this song is spot on for our relationship: For the First Time.

What a crazy, surprising year we've had. Here's to many more, hopefully less eventful, years to come.

And they keep on coming...(Kidisms - Part 256)

"God, please help me not to drop Mycah on her soft spot so that she becomes handicapped."

"Mom, I know you're not pregnant anymore, but you're still kinda...."
Kinda what?!
"Big."

Tanner, will you sweep out the garage for me?
"Nah. You need to slim, Mom. It can be your exercise." Jerk.

"Mom, are you going to go to Jason's soccer game?"
No, not tonight.
"But Mom! You should! It'll be good practice for becoming a wife!"

Two Weeks

Life is settling into some sort of rhythm now that the New Baby Whirlwind has passed. I go through my day (and night) in 3 hour cycles...and it's amazing how time just melts away. Days disappear before I know it, and I wonder how many hours I've spent just watching Mycah's sweet face contort into all kinds of hilarious grimaces and grins, or sleeping so peacefully in my arms.

I'm healing. I'd forgotten about the discomfort that ensues after childbirth. But it's manageable, with a steady diet of Colace and Tylenol 3, and the occasional glass of wine. I'm not as exhausted as I expected to be. I thank my gall bladder for that. My body had adjusted to sleepless nights long before the arrival of the baby. I'm sleeping more now than I did for the last 3 months, thanks to my snoozin' Tulip!

She is an eating, sleeping, pooping rockstar. You could set your watch by the schedule she's got herself on, and as long as her basic needs are met, she's charming and adorable and QUIET. We have yet to experience a really grueling screaming fit, and while I know it's inevitable, I'm so grateful that for now, she's been completely consolable with boobs and clean diapers. That's my girl.

She's still so tiny - at last check she was 5lbs, 14oz. We're working on that, but while she's barfing up at least half of what goes in, it may be awhile before I can get some meat on her bones. I will say that my new perfume, Eau de Regurgitaire, is not the nicest smelling stuff in the world. I might have trouble marketing it. The Scent of Motherhood. Ew.

We were told to keep her inside for the first two weeks and limit visitors...um yeah. That didn't happen. There has been a steady stream of friends and family in to visit - so many that we briefly considered charging admission. And I'm just not one to stay inside 24-7. I can't do it. At 4 days old, she was cheering for Tanner at his soccer game. At 5 days, she was dressed to impress at church for Easter, and then egg hunted with her brothers. She's also been shopping with Grandma and me and lasted 5 hours and as many stores. (Not sure if that's a good or bad sign....) She visited Daddy at his office and went to Open House for Tanner and the Spring Program for Jayden.  She's a girl on the go, and she handles it wonderfully!

Of course, my tiny princess just HAD to see the Royal Wedding! She had her first Girls Night Out at 9 days old when we had a sleepover at my aunt's house for The Event of the Season. She was as unimpressed with the first kiss as I was, but she loved Kate's dress.

So has been our first two weeks together - happy, busy, and alarmingly fast. If only I could hit the pause button...

As promised...

It was a dark and stormy night....

Not really. It was another busy Monday at the office. Busy, knowing that that day could be my last day for 8 weeks, if the full moon did her thing. I was feeling lousy, but who doesn't feel lousy in their ninth month of pregnancy? I didn't think much of it. I just tried to focus on work and not on nursery paint colors. It was a struggle.

Around 3, I realized that it had been awhile since I'd felt the baby move. She did not do her usual gymnastics practice after lunch, and as I thought back through the day, I began to wonder if I'd felt her move at all. My heart raced as I frantically tried to remember feeling my somersaulting baby, and I couldn't...

Shakily, I called my doctor's office. "I'm sure I'm being paranoid, but I don't think I've felt the baby move today. I can't remember, and I just now noticed." (Mommy Guilt begins early.) Of course, they told me to come in right away to get on the monitor and check things out. I quickly told my supervisor where I was headed, grabbed my purse and bolted for my car, terrified that the baby's life was in danger and I hadn't noticed.

Once in the car, I called Jason to tell him what was going on. He offered to meet me at the doctor, but I told him to wait. I'd call if there was an issue. And so I drove, trying to breathe and convince myself that it was nothing. As I drove, I felt a little something...

I should've gone to the bathroom before I left, I thought. This is just great. Now I've peed on myself. And then...another something, not so little this time. Hmmmm...

I called Jason again. I told him he might want to call his mom to make sure she's available to pick up the boys, because either I've completely lost all bladder control, or my water was leaking.  Both equally possible at this point. His response? "Ewwww!!!" Yeah, try sitting where I am, buddy.

I arrived at my doctor's office building and headed for the public restroom, still thinking that I'd peed on myself. All  the stalls were full, as luck would have it, and so I waited. As I stood there, a stream of water began pouring down my legs. There's no way that was pee.

Only a very small percentage of women have their water break on its own. Mine has broken twice now, and both times it was a big, dramatic gush.

This time, the gush came as I walking in the door of my doctor's waiting room. I looked like someone had just thrown a bucket a water at my crotch. My jeans were completely and visibly soaked. I waddled to the check-in desk, where they were expecting me. 

"Just a minute, Erin, and we'll get you back to get on the monitor." 

"Okay. But also, my water just broke."

The look on the nurse was priceless. Her head snapped up from her computer screen and she looked at me in disbelief.

"What?"

"My water just broke. As I was walking in here. I'm soaked."

"Like, right now? Are you sure?"

"Well, it's either that or I just peed A LOT."

"Um, okay, welll....hang on a second." She went running down the hall to find my midwife and let her know there was a gusher in the waiting room. The other nursing staff was cracking up, still not really believing that my water had just broken.

She opened the door to take me back, and saw my jeans for the first time.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

"I told you!" I said. "There's no way that's all pee."

And it wasn't. I sat on the monitor (the baby was fine - just packing up and heading out) and gushed water while my midwife checked me and confirmed that I was in labor. The hospital is next door to the office, and they sent me over. I sat in my car in the parking lot making all the necessary calls and texts while I tried in vain to dry out my pants before walking through the hospital. It was 5pm. Jason left the office and went home for our bags, which were packed and ready.

We got checked in and settled in our delivery room. We strolled the halls of labor and delivery to get my contractions going, and nothing happened. After awhile, people started arriving to be there for the birth - first my mom and then my sister....our cell phones were exploding with good luck texts and requests for status updates. Hours passed, and still...NOTHING.

Jason and I tried to sleep. He did. I couldn't - I was too edgy waiting for something to happen. At 4am, 12 hours after my water broke, they started pitocin to induce labor. I had hoped to avoid that, but after 12 hours of only mild contractions, I was frustrated and anxious to see my baby.

Pitocin SUCKS. I went from no labor to hard labor with nothing in between to prepare my body. Suddenly, contractions started coming hard and fast, and my body felt like it was being split in half. The jovial mood disappeared as I fought tears and the urge to scream nasty things at anyone and everyone. However, modern medicine is amazing, because just when I thought I couldn't handle another contraction, the Epidural Man showed up, and I'm pretty sure he was wearing a halo.

Shortly thereafter, I was numb and tingly and exhausted. It was around 9am. After a brief scare when the baby's heart rate dropped, I was put on oxygen and told to rest because in a couple of hours, it would be time to work. I complied, and fell fast asleep.

I woke up a couple of hours later. When the nurse came in to check on things, I told her I was feeling some pressure, and she might want to check and see where I was. She lifted the blanket to prepare to check my progress, and said:

"Oh my gosh, we need to call you midwife RIGHT NOW."

Apparently, once the baby had decided to come, she didn't bother to wake me. Her head was visible and I hadn't even pushed yet. Immediately, my room was filled with nurses, and chaos reigned while they quickly prepped the room for delivery. My midwife arrived within minutes and we were ready to go. Except for one thing....where was Jason????

At the last minute, we decided we wanted my sister to be there for the birth, and we asked her to take pictures for us. He went down the hall to the waiting room to get her and bring her back into the room. My midwife was ready to give him the plan of attack, and he was no where to be found. But they both showed up just in time, and he rolled up his sleeves. He'd asked to be the one to "catch" the baby, and so they told him what to do. I wasn't sure he'd be able to do it - I thought he'd get woozy, but he didn't. 15 minutes and a few pushes later, he delivered his daughter and I had my new baby girl on my chest. 

Everyone wanted to know her name, since it had been such a huge secret. I could hardly spit it out.

"Her name is Mycah Naomi," I said softly as I looked into her precious, squished up face. She was perfect.