Expectant

You--45 Weeks, 6 Days

2011-05-15T23:36:00.000-04:00

Look at how those week numbers are marching to 52--one year old almost!
I can't believe how this year has flown!
It always does with a new baby, I won't deny that.
But want to know a secret?
I've REALLY enjoyed this first year with you!

With Chas, there was just so much to learn and so much to sift through and so much uncertainty.
It was thrilling beyond belief!
But tiring and scary and stressful, too.

Rhyse was easier because, well...because we'd done it.

Then Greer came along and blew my heart wide open.
A little girl!
I'd always wanted one of those!
And when I got one?
I knew I had to have more.

Creux, poor Creux.
He was just troubled from the start, unsettled and high maintenance and hard to please.
Don't let my honest but strong words mislead you: I don't love a single child more or less than any of the others!
All children and experiences are unique and different and the raw truth there is that some experiences are more enjoyable than others.
Creux's infancy and childhood would not exactly rank at the top of my Fun List, quite frankly.
Trust me that I am not telling you anything I won't tell him!
One of these days, I'm going to watch in glee as Creux's own wayward son torments him with his crazy antics and I will sit back and chuckle and say, "Paybacks, son. Paybacks are a you-know-what..."

But then there's you.
You wake with a smile and a coo.
You are happy all. day. long.
I am comfortable and confident in my parenting at this point in my life so I'm able to just fully enjoy you without the worry.
I'm excited to see you in the mornings and I miss you at night.
I can't remember what life was like without you in it and it didn't even take a year for that to happen!
Basically, I am just so damn happy to have you to love!!!

You:

--have started saying, "Uh, oh!" But it's like, "Uh, uh!" SO CUTE.

--just today started clapping your hands and it took lots of concentration and mimicking on your part but so worth the effort!

--are getting REALLY good standing alone for longer periods of time now. We catch you every day standing somewhere, not supported by anything but gravity. And you LOVE it!

--Daddy packed your infant swing away this weekend. It hasn't been used in ages but it was still there. Normally I'm good about taking down stuff like that in a timely manner but for some reason, I held on a bit with that swing.

--you're ten months old but fully into 12-18 month clothing. The pants might be a little big from time to time but you fit into it all pretty good.

--you've starting spaghetti noodling when you don't want to be held, will arch your back and try to wriggle away from whoever is holding you. You know how to tell us that you want down.

--you're using the same hand wave for "bye-bye" to mean "all done!"at the table. Damn, girl, you're smart!

--you're still liking, "No, no, no!" and will spontaneously shake your head at anyone who says it, even if they're saying "know" as in, "I know you're there!" So someone will say something like that and you shake your head and beam at them like they've just told you that Santa's come back for a second helping of Christmas. It's fantastically adorable!

--I picked up a onesie for you that says, "I'm kind of a big deal around here" and it's by far my new favorite item of clothing for you because it's all snazzed up and cute--and because it's true!

--you're starting to throw temper tantrums when you don't get your way and I know I shouldn't say this, much less let you know it at the time, but I'm positively charmed by it! And so is your dad! You'll be getting into something and I'll remove you from it and you'll want to go back so I'll pick you up again and you'll spaghetti noodle on me and then throw yourself to the ground, wailing, then sit back up and throw yourself down again. Omg. Smitten.

--if I ask you if you want milk, you'll give me your attention, looking at me curiously. If I start making motions to nurse you, fuss with my bra straps under my shirt, you high tail it over to me, whimpering. And you're highly impatient once you're eating as I switch you from side to side. It's one of the only time I can count on you crying in day--that 10 seconds of no boob in between the first and second. Man, your life is rough.

I'm heading up with you, to tip-toe around my bathroom so as not to wake up while I'm getting ready for bed.
You need your own room!
We have fallen so far behind on that--I knew we would once soccer and co-op and all of our spring activities began again after the winter's hibernation.
Your room is going back up on the Home Project list to be completed in the next few months. It sure would be great to gift you a brand-new bedroom for your first birthday! You're totally sleeping through the night now at about 10-11 hours so we're good to go, separation-wise.
We just need the time here at home to devote to your sleeping quarter needs and as you'll come to learn, baby, that time is hard to come by! It's a big deal to be placed at the top of the Home Project around here because that list is long and everything on it is pretty important to someone.

But it's time.
I'm ready, you're ready, and soon your room will be ready, too!

Love,
Mama

You--43 Weeks, 1 Day

2011-05-04T23:34:00.000-04:00

Oh. My. Goodness.

Luxie, it has been weeks since I've posted for you and I am so very sorry. It's not that I haven't written of you at all--our family blog is full of moments of you, but I've not done well over here.

Part of it is just that I have what translates to about 35 seconds of free time in my days right now. I'm trying hard to finish up school for the year with Rhysie and we're just bogged down with sport & dance obligations in the evenings. I finally sit down for the night at around 10:30. If I want to take a shower, it's 11:30. And unfortunately, I need to sleep so I can't always be up late, late, late, catching up on my "me time."

That's not to say that my other blog is more important than writing to you is--it's just more available to me and I can, for the lack of a better saying, kill MANY birdies with one stone over there! I can still document for you on Lifelines, along with everyone else, but if I stop writing over there, everyone loses.

So much has happened in the last month or more with you.
Want to know?

--You've just begun standing on your own for very brief moments! You definitely know it's a dangerous under-taking so you're cautious about when and how you let go of your support but you get the biggest thrill from doing it! I can see that you're nearly exhilarated afterward--you look at me with huge eyes and a gigantic grin as if to say, "DID YOU FREAKING SEE THAT????" And yes, I did. I was holding my breath right along with you.

--One day last month, you were sitting at the kitchen table eating the pounds and pounds of food that you consume at every meal, and I saw you looking down the hallway at something. I was watching you watch whatever it was that had caught your attention when you lifted your right hand and started waving for the very first time! My head snapped around to see what you were waving at and there was Chas at the bottom of the stairs, headphones on, vacuum in hand, waving excitedly to you with the other.
I nearly fainted with love.

You are like my trick pony now, I can get you to say shake your head, "No, no!" and wave bye-bye whenever I want.
People love you.
I can't say that I blame them.

--You're all over this house, making me a wreck of a woman whenever you go suddenly missing from sight. You've found the staircases, both up and down and we stupidly have not installed gates yet. (Luxe, there is a time shortage in this house that I never imagined could exist. I need a day with 65 hours, not 24. It ain't fair, I tell you.) So I'm always panicking that you're going to fall...because you have.

--The first time you fell, it was off the couch. I had left you with Memaw so that I could zip off to a quick soccer game, so that you would not have to join me in the rain and cold. I came home to "She fell off the couch, has she ever done that before? I was changing her diaper and then left her with Greer and the next thing I know, she hit the floor! She cried and cried..."
I held you, glaring at my mother.
"She's never fallen before," I said icily.
I guess I just assume that she remembers what it's like to be around babies but then I'm abruptly reminded that she doesn't when stuff like that happens. I hated that you'd fallen, that I wasn't there...and that I couldn't fire her ;)

--The second time you fell was just this last week and it was a biggie. The Littles had taken total advantage of a lack of supervision where I had to run out to take Chas to a testing site for his schooling and left you all with Daddy. I walked in to find him locked in a room upstairs with you, trying to avoid the small ones for a brief but important business call. I whisked you off downstairs when I returned home but quickly realized that Greer and Creux had chopped up small bits of Playdoh all over the rug in the schooling room, right where you play. I left you with Rhyse on the couch while I went to find the vacuum and I was delayed a bit because I started talking to Daddy, who was still upstairs. Greer raced into our room, breathless, a few minutes later yelling, "MOMMY! DADDY! Luxie fell down the stairs!"
We nearly took each other out attempting to race from our bedroom to the first floor where we found you sobbing in Rhyse's arms.
He'd forgotten that he was watching you and the three of them--Rhyse, Greer, and Creux--had all relocated to the basement, leaving the door wide open.
You must've crawled around for a bit before finding that open door and you tumbled all the way down, landing on a heap of dirty clothes and a soccer cleat at the bottom.

I felt terrible, and I was so upset that I was irrationally angry with your brother. He's only nine and, while he can and does often take very good care of you, he's STILL only nine and sometimes does scatter-brainy boy stuff like completely forget that he's watching you. So he was in trouble and I was just sick, imagining you falling and falling and being scared and not knowing what was happening and wanting me.
And I wasn't there, not right away.
Luckily you hadn't been hurt at all which was a miracle honestly because that's a loooooong way down for a wee bitty gal like yourself. And worse, the whole left side of the staircase is exposed so it could have been a sheer drop-off for you after step number three and THAT would truly have been awful.

The gates are on the Grit List for this weekend, just so you know.
My heart still accelerates just thinking about how bad that could have been!

--You are such a good eater and sleeper and you've got two big girl teeth now! Both of those teeth gave you a bit of trouble, bringing on a low-grade fever and a high-grade grouch. It's very obvious to me when you're cutting because you are so completely out of sorts and you're never like that. You have the most pleasant disposition unless you're hungry or hurting. I try not to let either of those things happen very much.

--We're still nursing but we've cut back some naturally, as you've adjusted to eating more solid foods. This has really opened up a lot more freedom for me as you are easily satisfied if I'm a bit late getting home from somewhere--I just have Daddy or Emily give you a few snacks and that tides you until I'm able to get back to you. I feel this new freedom pretty drastically and I have to say...I like it.
I have no intention to wean you right now nor do I have an age in mind for when you will wean.
I will leave that up to you, my sweets!
I don't care what other's opinion are on this matter--I feel like we'll know when it's right for us to stop and mainly, that means that you will let me know :) Everyone else has fully weaned by 16 months of age and maybe you'll be like that, too.
But maybe not and that's fine by me, too..

--I honestly can not believe that you will be ten months old tomorrow. There are pictures that run on my screensaver, that randomly pull from my photo files and every so often, I see your birth ones and it takes my breath away and I fall into my chair and sit back and remember. You were so very tiny. And I loved our first night at home together. I can't even write about it without getting emotional. I am a basketcase. I will weep alone in my bathroom on your birthday, dry my eyes, and then put my party face on. I will enjoy it but will also be glad when it passes. *Shrug* I'm just weird like that.

--I'm not really one to speak for others (lie! Yes, I am! ;)) but you seem to really like it here. I think that you are so very, very lucky as I see firsthand how loved you are and that makes me the happiest mama on the planet. There's just always someone around who wants to hold you for a minute or is willing to play with you or push you on the swing or take you for a walk. There's a never-ending supply of sibling love for you and it's a beautiful thing to witness and to have a hand in creating. Since I grew up alone until I was just a bit younger than Chas, I never had this myself. I'm glad that you do.

I'm going to do better about writing for you here on these last two months.
Two months?
Really, you will be one in two months?
My eyes read those words but they just don't seem possible to me.
And yet?
You reach for me when I go to pick you up.
You just got new shoes because you'll be walking soon.
You get my jokes and understand so much of what we say to you.
I thought this to myself the other day when I picked you up: "She's a big baby now."
Because you are.
You're still a baby but you're mobile and funny and giggly and squealy and fast and curious.
And happy.
So very, very happy.

I have enjoyed every single day that you've been here to the absolute fullest with you.
There hasn't been one that has past where I haven't held you close and been so thankful for your existence.

You're my girl.
I always say that to you: "You're mommy's special, special girl."

I love you so very much.
XO

Love, Mama

You--34 Weeks, Six Days

2011-03-13T23:24:00.000-04:00

You're really on the move, girl!

Just tonight you discovered that there's a world outside of the schooling room that's now in reach to you.
Typically you're kept on the floor in here, "here" being the one room that we spend the bulk of our time in together.
But tonight I saw you crawl over to the front hallway and sort of hang back for a minute, looking curiously at it, and then decide to see where it went.
I followed you down the hall and straight into the kitchen and was dismayed to see the look of sheer wonder and joy on your face.

My job of keeping you safe just got that much harder.

Because now we need the basement gate installed and soon we will need to block off all staircase accesses--top and bottom and that is a pain in the ARSE! It's incredibly difficult for your sister and brother to work the mechanisms that they need to work in order to get up and down the stairs on their own which means a LOT more running for me.

That's okay though.
You're worth it ;)
In the time that I last wrote, you went from really kind of starting to food to having entire platefuls (you are a piglet! I'm not even remotely kidding!), have started pulling yourself up on furniture (yes! Do it! Start walking, it's far cleaner!), and just tonight had a "big girl" bath with Creux--no baby tub needed.

Food:

Jeez, girl, we've created a monster here. I thought we'd just sort of "introduce" you to solids and you grabbed a bib, a knife, and a fork and settled in to eat your way to a year old. Had I known what you were capable of, I would never had bought the stupid netted food feeder (you're insulted by that), the spoons that hold one eensy bite of food (you have graduated to Crate & Barrel's h'orderve silver spoon and fork--perfect size!), and bowls so tiny I'd thought they'd be perfect for new eater proportions but I GROSSLY underestimated your appetite.

You have it all, too. No mushy baby cereals, no processed-to-the-point-of-flavorless jars of baby food, you have the real deal! Tons of organic fruits and veggies lush and bursting with flavor and nutrients and you eat everything up! That pasta with cayenne is your favorite which just cracks me up. And the more pureed foods like applesauce tend to get a "no, thank you" tongue from you. You like texture and it's really quite adorable because you don't have a darn tooth in your mouth (SERIOUSLY. Am getting a bit concerned that you're going to be toothless and two. Where are they? I can see little bulges in your gums but nothing erupts. ???) so you look like a little old lady eating.

Moving:

You're a fast little thing and there's no more commando crawling going on, you're up and on all fours! New this week is the pulling up on things and you've had some hard knocks with that. You drag the toy bins out of the organizers and you try to stabilize yourself on those but they move and aren't sturdy at all so you've cracked your wee noggin a time or two. There's several stools and a small table in the room too that you're very interested in all of a sudden; you crawl over and pull up to your knees on them.
You're not pulling to standing yet but you're super sturdy on your feet when held so I don't anticipate that it will take much longer for you to figure out what you need to do to get up and start chasing all of the "short people" in the house around.

Big Girlness:

--today I made a move to give you a bite of smoothie and you shook your head "no" at me. I tried again and you shook again. I pushed further and you swatted my spoon! You're figuring this stuff out!

--you totally answer to your name; there is absolutely no mistaking that you know very well who "Luxie" is!

--the spoon swatting is already old. I like the head shaking better.

--you've moved to 12 month sized clothing because you are a PORK CHOP

--your hair is growing longer and your bald spot is not bald anymore

--tonight at dinner Chas showed us what he taught you today. Sitting at one end of the table he made a lip-smacking kissing sound. You beamed at him from the other end. He did it again. You beamed harder. He did it once more and you pursed your sweet lips and "kissed" him back. We all clapped and scared the kiss right out of you. You were done then.

--you say, "mama, dada, and baba" but I don't really think they mean anything yet. I have not noticed any deliberate words so far.

--you're sleeping better. Down at nineish, up at four, back down until 7:30-9:00 the next morning. Whew! Because I really hate that three hour waking thing. I have been a demon for weeks now.

In other news...
I want my room back.
I know, right?
Here, fully documented in these pages, is a mother's heartsick lamentation over how I would just DIE if you left my room.
But now we've made the change, you no longer sleep in my bed AT ALL, and I'm tired of tip-toeing around all night long.
I want to go upstairs and watch tv or read or talk to Daddy and instead we have to be super, super quiet or you will wake and want to nurse again.

This is not good because all progress on your room came to a halt awhile ago so that we could quickly revamp the boys'. But there's been nothing quick about it and you don't even have complete walls up so...I am not getting my room back any time soon.
We simply don't have the hours to devote to it but I'm going to have to dig them up somewhere because you really need to be sleeping in a dark, quiet place now--uninterrupted.
You're not a newbie anymore.
You need your space where you can get some sleep without our accidentally waking you with an episode of "The Real Housewives of Orange County."

And that's what's about to happen right now, except the Housewives aren't on because the Sister Wives are.
Wives, wives, wives...married women are apparently incredibly intriguing! (They are! Really!)

I'll close this with my favorite thing about you right now:

When you're in your crib and you've just waken, sometimes you'll hear me open the bedroom door. And I'll sneak super quietly over to you, so quiet because I want to see what you're doing while you wait on me. (You never wake crying, you coo and play.) But you have hearing unlike any child I've ever known and at the slightest noise, I see your head straining for a visual on me. You'll be on your tummy and your little head will be leaning forward and cocked to the side, your eyes wide and wondering, searching, searching....and then you see me and you break into this huge grin and your head will drop down to your mattress and you smile hard and then peek right back up at me. And when I finally come close, you pull yourself towards me and as I reach down for you, you reach up with one small hand.

Oh, how I love this moment so much! And I'm so glad that I have this space here to write about it so that years later I can look back and hopefully this will jog my brain for the exact snapshot that I seek: the one second where you and I make eye contact and how overcome with glee you are that I've arrived because you know that I'll scoop you up and kiss you silly and then take you down where the circus is waiting for you to be the ringmistress.

You are so loved.

Always,
Mama

You--32 Weeks, 6 Days

2011-02-20T23:28:00.000-05:00

It's been a huge week for you--things are happening fast now.
I knew they'd pick up.
Just like that, life is stealing my baby. Sigh.

--You're mimicking big-time right now. If we blow raspberries at you, you'll do it back almost immediately.
If we make a loud, annoying, one syllable sound, you'll beam and then open your cute little mouth and make a sound back.
Frankly, it's the cutest thing to happen in 2009, 10 and the beginning of 11 all rolled into one.

--You're responding to your name.

--MAN, are you on the move. Early this week you were commando crawling, dragging yourself around elbow-first and it seemed like such an effort. Then you moved to all fours and now seem to prefer that method of transportation better.
Totally new is this crawl-to-bridge move that you do where you start crawling, stop, and then pick yourself up off the ground so that only your hands and feet are touching and you're in the shape of a bridge.
It's wild, girl!
SLOW DOWN because that makes me think of you starting to pull up on stuff and begin walking and I'm just not ready for that.

--You are no longer sleeping with me at night. I can't do it, Luxe. You sleep so much better in your crib next to me and if I let you snuggle in my bed, you wake me every two hours. I miss you so much already and hate that that period is gone for us but I really think it is.

--Due to this move, the weaning process has started. Several times this week I've woken up soaked with milk from you sleeping through feedings. My body had become accustomed to your night wakings and so made enough milk for that but when you sleep so well at night (it's hit or miss right now, really), I'm a mess.
It won't take long for me to adjust but we're definitely starting the slow, drawn-out process of weaning. This will take months (I usually nurse for about 16 months or so which would put us half way there) but the feedings will become less and less as you sleep longer and begin solid food.

How did we get here so fast???

--Speaking of food, you're liking it! We started with just some sweet bananas and then this weekend we got a little crazy. Being baby number five, we're very loosey goosey with food stuffs with you. Meaning, last night you had a mix of blueberry, apple, and banana for dinner (because we had pizza and smoothies and that was all I could give you from my plate) and then you just ended up having bites of smoothie, full of fruit, which you LOVED (and hopefully you aren't allergic to anything because there's like 75 fruits in our smoothies) and tonight was even worse. (Better!)
Steamed broccoli (you no likey), bits of the soft inside of a red potato (which you loved--and I chunked it super small and set it in front of you and you fed yourself!), and then (oh, this is bad) some, uh, pasta in red sauce, flavored with fresh basil and...cayenne pepper.
I didn't know that when I gave it to you and you were like an instantenous red pasta-y crack addict and wouldn't stop lunging for my plate and begging me with your eyes so you had quite a bit.
You're sleeping peacefully now but I'm terrified that you might wake with heartburn!
Suffice it to say that solid foods are here to stay and I'm so glad we waited as long as we did because you're truly ready and already starting to self-feed. YAY!

--There was a nice warm snap recently where you were able to get out and take walks in your stroller. You love being outside which is good because your siblings LIVE outside in the spring, summer, and fall and that's where you'll be 99% of the time.

--I can't wait to take you to the beach. I simply can not wait. I am excited to stuff you into a bathing suit and slap on the CUTEST little sun hat (that I picked up recently online.) It's got your favorite, favorite flower stamped right on the side! (That's a joke because you're starting to hate those headbands with the big flowers attached. And I've already told you that I don't care! You can hate it all you want, you look adorable in it! Humor me, please!!!)

--I see two bottom teeth starting to glow from under your gums. Yowzas, sister, those are going to hurt. Your mouth is going to suck for a little while so this is your heads-up. I'll do my best to cuddle and nurse you lots but it's going to get worse before it gets better.
But I promise that once you're done, I'll get you an ice cream cone.
You have no idea what this is (though you should because you made me eat AT LEAST ten pounds worth of that crap during your gestation. (!!!!) but it's tasty, Luxie--you'll love it!
If you bite my boob though, all bets are O-F-F!

--You can shake your head "no" but I don't really think it means no to you. I think you like the way it feels on the new hair that's growing in to your baldy spot in the back but your siblings love it! They just crack up whenever you do it. It's also another thing you'll mimic--if we do it, you'll smile and then do it too. CUTE!

--Speaking of hair, yours is a beautiful mix of blonde, brown and red. When I take pictures, the red tones really light up under the camera's flash and it's so pretty to see. Your eyebrows are strawberry blondish and so are your gorgey little eyelashes. You look like a doll to me--so perfectly lovely with just the right about of plump, and those big blue eyes. They're something else--just like your sister's! (Well, and Chas and Creux's, too. Those blue eyes run deep in this family. Sigh. Daddy trumps my greens every time. (Except once! Nahnahnahnahbooboo!))

--Also with the hair? You have very little length on top but these long...wispy sideburns (?) on the sides. Like I could pigtail the hair down by your ears. It's strange. It's adorable, don't get me wrong, but it's...strange. You and hair have kind of had a checkered past together--hopefully that gets better.
If not, I'm sure Creux would be happy to take you into some back corner and lop it off with a pair of scissors that he's snuck from my bin THAT HE'S NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE IN.

These changes are all so neat to see and it's such a blessing that you are getting so big and strong!
I do miss my little newborny angel but then you smile at me and I miss her less.
Because as sweet as that newborn was, you're pretty darn fantastic right now too and I don't want to waste a second with you.

I love you so much.
My big girl!

Love,
Mama

You--31 Weeks, 6 Days

2011-02-13T23:15:00.001-05:00

You slept alone last night--the very first time in your life that you haven't slept next to me.
And you slept all through the night.

For the past several months (two? three? they're all blending together in a horrific sleep deprived way.) you've been up about every three hours or so over the course of the night.
Frankly, it's been killing me.
My only saving grace has been that we've been very light on our obligatory schedules so I've been able to sleep longer in the mornings than I will be able to as soon as spring arrives and our regular, insanely crazy, schedules resume.

You slept better as a newborn which is sort of like a slap in the face for me.
I remember those six to seven hour stretches--I don't think I ever really felt all that tired in the first several months with you because I was so well rested.

Ah, but you've been making up for lost time!
Your usual pattern of late is a 1:00am feeding when I go to bed...then again at 4:00ish, again at 6:30ish, again at 9:00 when we wake and get up for the day.

It has SUCKED, Luxe!

But last night, I came home late from a date.
You were awake and waiting on me.
At 11:30, I nursed you.
And in an unprecedented move, I placed you back into your crib.
And in an unprecedented reaction, you actually went back to sleep.

You slept on through the night until 9:00am this morning.
I did not.

I woke at 5:30 to make sure you were still breathing.
I did this two more times before 9:00am.
Irrational, I know.
But still.
It's kind of unsettling when you just hunker down for 2,000 hours unexpectedly!

By 7:00, I was uncomfortable due to needing to feed you and by 8:45, I was willing you awake.
You made one little peep and I leaped from my bed.
Surely I was glad to see you after so many hours apart but also, I needed you BAD.
My body isn't so used to going 2,000 hours between feedings and let me tell you, it no likey.

--You are crawling!
Officially and FAST!
Eveything that was previously out-of-range for you no longer is.
All the cracks and dusty crevices of the house are now fair game.
That makes me a little nervous because the faster you are, the more of a hazard you are to yourself.
A baby gate installation at the top of basement stairs is now first on my weekend's Grit List.

--If we say, "bababababababa!" then you'll watch and smile and suddenly your jaw will start making the movement needed to form that word too and you'll do it two or three times silently and then you'll blare out, "bababababababa!" and we'll all cheer and you beam fabulously.
Proud of yourself and tickled too.

--You're giving kisses! You started this with Daddy this morning, where he makes the kissy sound with his lips and then you'll lean in and get ridiculously fresh with him.
I elbowed him out of the way for my own turn and I got the same sweet tongue lapping at my lips.

You are so cute, I could eat you.

--You pulled your headband off the other day and it stunned me that you are suddenly old enough to do that. You've been quite captive with that thing, allowing me full access to adorn you like a giant spring bloom but now, you're fighting back.
Too bad, sister--I say the flower stays!

--You're tasting food too! Really only a banana for now. I ordered half of Amazon.com the other day for your full dining pleasure. A chair, a bib, some bowls and spoons, a netted fruit thingy that is impossible to clean and grosses me out totally but allows you to self-feed and explore food a bit. You're ready for the table and as for food? We'll see how the next month goes. I'd like to see a few teeth in there first, not because you need them to eat but because it signals that you're body is likely ready for more than my milk.
And do you know what?
I think I do!
I think your two bottoms are coming!
Yay! (Oh no!)

I know I say it all the time, Luxie, but you're just the best baby in the whole world.
You make my life so much easier than it could be.
You are my Chill Baby.
Thank you for fulfilling my request--and I'm so glad you ended up being a girl.
Have I said that before?
Well, I am.
I know I would have loved you all the same if you were a little boy but I am so delighted that you are who you are.

Seven months old.
Where has the time gone?

I love you!
Mama

You--29 Weeks, 2 Days

2011-02-02T22:32:00.000-05:00

I don't have long.
You're really bucking this whole "bedtime" thing.
Somehow you seem to know the difference between daytime sleeping (where you will happily snooze for upwards of three hours in your crib) and nighttime sleeping (where you absolutely, positively WON'T).
Because you somehow sense the difference, you know I can possibly go up there with you.
For the night.
And this is what you want and you are willing to wait for it.
You'll hang out as long as you can before looking at me with those begging eyes and whimpering (which turns to wailing faster than I'm ever expecting) and then I sigh...shut down my computer and head up to bed.
With you sniffling pitifully in my arms.
But then as soon as we hit the Nest, you get a little excited...and a little desperate.
You know you're SO CLOSE to getting me into that bed with you for a nice, long snuggle and it's almost your undoing.

So yeah, we're still sleeping together :)

You have taken to the crib magnificently during the day but you are still my baby barnacle at night.
Which is just fine by me.

Am hurrying now because I know you're going to come looking for me any minute.
Or Daddy will, anyway.

--Luxie, WHERE ARE YOUR TEETH? Oh my goodness, I sure hope you aren't one of those babies who eats their birthday cake with a smashing set of gums. Everyone else snapped up a pearly white around 4-5 months of age. You are almost SEVEN.
And as toothless as could be!

--You're babbling tons suddenly! Recognizable sounds these days which are VERY cute.
Everyone loves mimicking you.

--You're up on your hands and knees, lurching now! Not so much creeping around, you either roll or drawl yourself up on all fours and heave forward.
Hmm.
On second thought, it's probably good that you don't have any teeth.

--I've already started thinking about your first birthday and that makes me a SAD mama. But I'd like very much to do something special to celebrate and so, it's on my mind. These things take time.

--Creux drove his battery-operated car through your hair yesterday and got it SO tangled that I thought your scalp was cut. You sobbed but not as much as I thought you would, considering that Daddy unraveled it bit by bit. We were going to cut it but then he thought he could get it out without chopping your locks.
You really are going to have to watch out for that one better, my love.
He's gonna getcha!

--Chas calls you "bug" which I find adorably sweet. And I've noticed that when we speak OF you, we call you Luxe. And when we speak TO you, it's Luxie.
And still Luxor.
And Luxie Lu.
And Luxie Laaaaaadeeeee!
Pork chop has faded while "fat little cupcake" has gained popularity.
(That's your dad, by the way. All those others are me.)

You're coming!
I love you so much and can't wait to bury my face in your chunky little neck and hear your sweet baby belly giggle.
I got you on the Flip with that--thanks to Greer--so now I'll have that sound for always.

XO

(Let's go, you fat little cupcake! Up to bed! YAY!)

You--28 Weeks

2011-01-24T23:08:00.000-05:00

We did it, Luxie!
We survived moving you and really, it went so smoothly I don't know what I was all worked up about in the first place.

I think it really just boils down to me tripping down Memory Lane, remembering how we started...bringing you home from the hospital (grrrr...am weirdly struggling with this topic, now after six months) and curling up into each other.
We may have technically separated at your birth but it sure didn't seem so, especially at night.
I remember you sleeping on my belly, with my hands placed on your back to stay you, both of us breathing in-time together, warm, safe, so loved.

Or...

I would curve my body around yours and you'd sleep inside that curve, with your little feet standing on my drawn up legs.
We'd stay like this together all night long.
And I'd never slept better.

SO, to spend time in those memories and then realize that it's time to move you out and on your own (I am so dramatic. I mean, even I am realizing this at this point. You're like a foot away from me in your little crib.)...it just STINKS that you are getting so big so fast.
And yet, I love every single minute.

You are pure sunlight and joy.
Rainbows and butterflies.
Big dopey toothless grins and pudgy rolls of baby dough.

I can't be in your presence and not be all over you.
(And you can't be in mine either. You are SO DAMN CUTE when you see me and want me. You start whimpering and leaning away from whoever is holding you and making desperate, desperate eye contact with me. You elbowed your father in the neck tonight as he walked past me with you in his arms, in your attempt to drop magically into my lap.)

Back to the whole sleep thing:

You're really moving fast, little lady, so we had to scrap the she-goes-in-her-new-room! program and just get you somewhere safe.
On Saturday, I had left you sleeping in bed in the morning and boxed you in with big pillows but when you woke (I heard you on the monitor), my heart went wild and I sprinted up the stairs in a panic.
You were fine, but I knew then that way down deep, I'd passed my comfort zone with keeping you in bed alone and needed to listen to those feelings because I didn't last time with Creux and I already told you how I almost, like, broke his FACE doing that.

So I came down with you that morning and declared that you were moving into the crib thing that very afternoon and by golly, that's precisely what happened.

I wasn't sure how you'd take to it--honestly, I expected the worst.
But I waited until you were really very sleepy, when you'd been fed and changed and needed nothing...and then I laid you down with Greer's old crib blanket (so swanky cute!) and a few toys...and I left.

You were happy to play there for a bit but I knew that you'd soon tire of that and realize that you were stuck there indefinitely.
Because I'm not good about letting you cry for a bit to just get settled (and sometimes you babies DO just need to vent for a few minutes and wail and wind down), I made myself busy.

I scurried off to the basement for some laundry and by the time I came up to fold it, you were wailing on the monitor.
My initial instinct was to say, "Tsk, I knew she'd hate that. She just needs me to nurse her and she'll be fine."
That's ALWAYS my instinct because I don't like to hear my babies fussing ever and I know that I can fix just about anything for you.

But I promised myself that I wouldn't go to you until I finished folding the load and I stuck to it.
As I neared the bottom, you were still crying but stopped almost immediately.
I snuck upstairs to peek at you and there you were, face-down and passed out, dreaming hard in your new crib.

I was so happy for you and yet so sad for us.
Really (oh the DRAMA of your mama!) it's not even that bad because we are still snuggling at night when I'm in bed with you.
It's just all the day-time sleeping that you are doing, now it's all in the crib.
It had mostly been in the swing still, which I have always hated but was a place where you simply wanted to sleep, but I'd started trying to encourage you to do some alone-in-the-bed sleeping too.
I was successful at that only sometimes but then my anxiety would spike, thinking of you hurtling off the bed in a freak fast-break.

Anyway, this is for the best and now, I'm totally good with it.

Five freaking kids in and I am the world's biggest WUSS apparently! Sheeze...

I love you so much, my big sleeper girl.

You--26 Weeks, 5 Days

2011-01-16T22:13:00.000-05:00

On the move, lady!
You're taking off over here and seem to be just over the moon about your newfound tricks!
I wouldn't exactly say that you're crawling but rather creeping...sliding, dragging, pulling.
You kind of move backwards which is something others of you kids have done.
Strangely, I get it.
(I can whistle that way and only that way. I can't whistle out but rather do it by sucking air back IN.
Weird Mom Fact for the day!)

You're sitting big, too!
Toppling over less and less though still not sturdy enough for me to remove all manner of pillow proppage but on your way.

And I just bought size THREE diapers, you pudgy little princess!

My girl is growing up.
Sniff.

I joke with the sniff (sort of) because I'm having so much fun with you.
Your personality is firmly in place and girl, you are FUNNY!
And you like to have fun which is fantastic because we are a houseful of regular jokesters.

Your room is coming along, too, Luxie.
Slowly but it's coming.
It's going to be gorgeous when it's through--almost so gorgeous that I'm excited to move you right on down the hall.
Well, not quite that gorgeous.
I still want you with me.
After I wrote about you moving out in the last post, I had a whopping case of back-pedaling.
Is a pack-n-play in my room so bad after all?
I mean, really? Is it?
You won't be there forever. (This is what I tell Daddy, who, frankly, is just fine with you moving out--he loves you, just wants his bed back. And wife. You and I are like peanut butter and jelly right now. You just don't separate them! EVER!!!)

These things have a way of working out though so I know to just let it roll however it rolls for me.
I might have major anxiety about it and realize that I'm just not ready on that day and then three days later, I'll be at peace with it.
(When it's time, weaning goes the same way. I just need to respect my own feelings on the matter because deep down, I know when I'm ready for changes and that usually goes hand-in-hand when you babies are ready. One does not go without the other for peace of mind.)

We'll see how we feel when the room is finished.
Who knows, you may take one look at the place and leap from my arms into the crib!

Yeah, I'm not counting on it either.

Anyway, I just thought I'd pop by here and say that you're still unbeatably the happiest baby on the block.
And that I love you so much.

XO
Mama

You--24 Weeks, 6 Days

2011-01-02T22:14:00.000-05:00

We made it through your first Christmas without a hitch and what a delight you were!
For me, there was no better gift.
Honestly, I could have received nothing and it would have still been one of my highest ranked holidays in history.

You slept late for your first Christmas and had us all to yourselves by the time you strolled down.
Miss Lay Zee Bones.
You are a girl after my own heart--we love our sleep-ins!

A new year upon us, too.
2011.
I guess I never really much considerd that you were born in a nice, even year (2010) so it's incredibly easy to figure out how old you'll be in (name that year).

The next six months are going to bring a WHOLE different you into the mix!
You're starting to move by rolling....I can put you down in one place and return just a minute or two later to see that you've rolled yourself over to whatever it is that caught your eye!

You're starting to sit up on your own briefly.
We can't leave you sitting up but you're able to hold your own (rather impressive) weight up for a lengthy ten seconds or so before veering off in one direction like a little drunkard.

You're pushing up well on those little arms in preparation for crawling which sets off mega-anxiety inside me because I walk through the house counting wee choking hazards littering the floor (all of which have been banned from the first level but you can see from just me writing this that I'm seriously going to have to crack down on these fools) and there are A MILLION!
We're not quite ready for you to take off just yet!

Just two days ago you gave me the fright of my life.
You'd fallen asleep sideways in the middle of my bed where you don't normally lay and I didn't box you in with any pillows, thinking that I didn't need to.
I checked on you periodically and you were happily snoozing.
But then I heard you on the monitor and I came up to find that you had wriggled almost to the edge of my side of the bed.
You must've been awake for awhile, quiet and BUSY.
(You'd also pooped your pants something HORRIFIC, child, and smuggled a foot free from your sleeper. How you managed THAT, I'm still contemplating.)

SO.
That's it for you, missy!
(I know I keep saying this but we had to get through the holidays first.)
You're moving out this month and my heart is just b-r-e-a-k-i-n-g.
I don't want you to go.
I love sleeping with you, rolling over and kissing your plump little cheek, being able to make sure you're warm, waking up to find that we're holding hands or that you're holding my hair.

I could keep you at night still (when I am in bed with you and can keep you safe) but I think it will be too confusing for you--that during the day, you can't sleep in our nest but at night, you can.
As much as I hate it, you're just going to have to go.
Way the hell down the hallway.
Far, far from me.

Sniff.

Six months old and flying the coop.

Sniff, sniff.

This whole month will be devoted to your the making of your very own bedroom and selfishly, I hope it takes that long so that we still have some time together.
Honestly though, this would be easiest if done quickly.
Like ripping off a band-aid.

Hmm.
But see I don't like ripping off band-aids...I am super gentle and peel off one eensy weensy corner and then just a tiny bit more after that...and in 20 minutes, I am band-aid free!
Sort of how it'll take me 29 more days to move you out :)

The only thing that will make this better for me is if I'm super excited about where you're going and if I make it how I think you would like for it to be.
Greer has cornered the market on the pinky/peach hue.
(And it is the PERFECT mix of pink and peach together, please believe.)
Which is fine because you are not pink to me, you never have been.
You...are lavender.
Very light lavendery walls with deeper purple accents.
Cozy and elegant.
I am reluctantly excited about this project--I'm happy to do this for you but at the same time, I'd just rather that you stay with me.
Forever.
(Okay, well maybe not forever, but for indefinite.)

Scott and Lynn were just here to celebrate the new year with us and they said, "She's not a pork chop, she's a lamb chop."
And it's so fitting, really it is!
The main word there is "chop" in case you didn't notice--be it pork or lamb, Luxie, you are DELICIOUSLY choppish.
But lamb is cuter than pork so that might stick as a name.
(Just be glad it isn't "sausage" because that's what Creux was called for the first year and a half of his fat little life.)

My favorite moments of most weeks right now are your "Home Spa Days."
Initially I hated (and I do mean hated) the little bath pod we bought for you.
But now you've grown into it a bit and we can stuff you down in it pretty well where you can't move a chubby little limb so I no longer feel like bath time is a watery version of Russian roulette.

You seem to just love this thing now and we give you a little Boon toy (the kind that will stick to the walls) and you chomp on that and splash and smile.
Daddy and I have been doing this together as I'd been terrified that I was going to drown you a month back so he took over...but then I missed bath time so now I hang out while he soaps you.

You're just so incredibly sweet sitting it in, water up to your tiny little shoulders, your sweet neck exposed in the back, your hair frizzing up from the humidity.
I think you're going to have curly hair like your big sister which is just so foreign to me.
I probably told you this before but when I was little (and on into college really) my hair was so straight that I couldn't even get it to hold curl AT ALL.
Now the texture of my hair is different, whether from age or babies (you kids really kind of wreck EVERYTHING ;)) who knows.
But Greer had these ringlet curls when she was little and they were so tight that I would stick my finger right up inside them and they would wind right around me.
You have just the most adorable beginnings of curls--wispy little flyaways that aren't quite long enough yet to do much of anything except stand out from your head.

You've moved fully into 6-9 month clothing and are outpacing my supply of baby girl hand-me-downs because Greer was on the tiny end of things. Her 6-9 month stuff is mostly spring wear and it's definitely NOT spring around here yet.
It's really not that big of a problem though because unlike my other babies (all of them), I prefer to keep you in pajamas.
All. Day. Long.
The sign of a successful day for me is if you remain in your sleepwear from night until the following night because it means that I did not have to drag you out in the cold that day.
I'm not a fan of babies going out in pajamas (weird little thing of mine) so if we go public I dress you, but if not, in pjs you stay alllllll the live long day!

You're not even really going out for date night anymore which is actually very nice.
If you're with us, I'm either nursing through dinner or Daddy is holding you the whole time so one of us is really kind of more caught up in you than in the date itself.
You're bigger now and can go longer stretches between feeds (3-4 hours) so I'll feed you right before we walk out the door and we're good for the night.
If we're planning a big chunk of time out, we'll go shopping...go home to nurse...then back out for dinner.
And maybe that sounds like an inconvenience but if it keeps you snug at home and keeps us free for awhile, it's totally worth the extra effort to make it happen.

No teeth yet but a rising interest in food.
We'll bring you to the table this month and see what happens though you're pretty content with your new sippy cups (of water).
Once you start taking solid food, you will take less of my milk and that's better for you than anything I can whip into a puree so we're putting it off for as long as possible.
Regardless, I'm excited to make room for you at our family table.
Officially.
(Meaning, lap-free as right now you slap the food right off my fork or attempt to sog us both by swiping the drink from my mouth. Fiesty little lap diner!)

Love to you, my little lamb chop.
Mama

You--23 Weeks

2010-12-20T22:58:00.000-05:00

Oh my goodness, has it been that long since I've written?
In fairness, you are beyond featured on our family blog so I HAVE been documenting things for you, just not always here.
And do I feel guilty about that?
YES.
Not that I want you to think that this is just another "thing" on my To-Do list because it isn't.
At the same time, I have a smidgeon of free time in a day right now (THE HOLIDAYS!) so I err on the side of efficiency and since with my photos I can blog all of you kids, I tend to do just that!

Even now, piles and I mean PILES of presents await my wrapping attention but I wanted to update this for you because you are changing by leaps and bounds and I simply can't keep up!

--We bought you a Bumpo which you loved for approximately a week and now you are a danger to yourself in the damn thing. The directions on the box stated, "SOME babies will try to escape it...."
I didn't know that was you.
I have been notified of my error in thinking.

--Gone is the bouncy seat, arrived is the Jumperoo! This has been our favorite baby accessory (we bought this with Greer) as you little ones just LOVE to jump in it and that tickles us all! It took you a day or so to figure out what you were supposed to do in it but you had LOTS of help as your brothers (Rhyse and Creux) were very eager to "show" you by like catapulting you across the room in it.

--You like those brothers, by the way. You like them all and you just ADORE your sister.
But I have to say, Luxie, that you really still only have eyes for me. I still must sneak around you from time to time as, if you're alerted to my presence in the room, you go from being fine to whining and begging me with your eyes (really, you do this. I swear it to be true.) to come and get you from whoever is holding you.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, no one has ever loved me quite like you do.
We're besties. (Me, you, & Greer!)

--You also know how to ask for food which cracks me up! You will cry and look DIRECTLY at my chest, then back up and me, then back to my chest. And when I start making motions to feed you (by unsnapping my bra and all the shifting and rearranging of clothing), you either get really excited (if you're not too hungry) or your whimpering turns to pleading (if you're starving).

--And some day you will totally hate that I write this but one of my very favorite nursing moments with you is when you're really ready to eat and at the same time very tired...because you're eyes will literally roll back in pleasure and it kills me in a funny way.

--No teeth yet but you're quite serious about chomping down on stuff.

--No crawling yet either but I'm making concentrated efforts to give you ample floor time these days. I'll whine all along about how you babies are into everything and yet at the same time, I'll encourage you to get up and go none-the-less.
That's my job.
A hug and then a teeny tiny push out of the nest.

--Speaking of the nest, you haven't left it. And I don't want you to. I really don't want you to.
This is the hardest separation for me as we've been together since literally back when you were made and it's not easy for me to let you go. The nights are special times for us. And you're at peace in this nest. I hate to make you go.

--But you must! (Here's where I steel myself!) If you don't go, you will fall. I did this with Creux, have I told you that? I waited and waited and I KNEW BETTER but I waited too long. I caught him a few times, hearing him wake and gurgle on the monitor and I'd race upstairs to grab him before he could roll, roll, roll off the bed.
But one day, I didn't catch him.
I heard him fall, how could I not?
And when I reached him, sprinting up the stairs, my heart pounding so fast I thought it would explode, he was very hurt.
He'd smacked a board on the way down, the board that holds together the frame of the bed, and he'd smacked it face-first.
I think it knocked the wind out of him.
So when I reached him, he was gasping for air and I freaked out.
I was so ashamed that day, I could barely even look at him.
I called your dad and sat on the porch, waiting for him to arrive so that he could check Creux out--he's better in those situations than I am.
And while he took my baby boy inside, I sat on the front porch step alone, head bent to my knees, rocking back and forth, waiting for him to come and tell me that everything was fine (and it was) so that I could breathe again.

That was, and remains to be, my very worst parenting decision.
EVER.

And so, dear Luxe, I will not put my needs above yours and though we'll both dislike it very much in the beginning, we'll get you all squared away in your own fab nest very soon. You aren't moving so much that you're an immediate risk but time is a'tickin' and I don't typically make the same mistake twice :)

--It's almost Christmas time! Oh, you have so many wonderful things to explore! Santa said you were VERY good this year and so, SHE shopped accordingly.

--You and I stood in front of our tree last night and your sheer wonder and awe at the sight that it was brought me to tears. You looked up and down, eyes so bright and wide, and reached out to touch things. I stood very close so you could feel the prickly needles and could shake the tree a bit to make it jingle.
Your amazement is just the most precious thing.

--No food for you yet though you are showing a bit of an interest. You want what we have, period. And you often sit at the table with us, in my lap or Daddy's, so it must just seem like the thing to do: put things in your mouth! I picked out a chair for you that snaps to the table but haven't ordered it yet. I'm excited to have you join us for meals! (Though not for awhile yet--am hoping we can just nurse through this winter and then start on solids when spring arrives and with it, a bounty of fresh fruits and veggies. We don't do the jar stuff at all--haven't since Greer.)

--You're also starting to recognize your family as seperate from other baby lovers and will cry if placed too quickly in unfamiliar arms. This is (completely selfishly!) one of my favorite baby things as well--just to see that you little ones are so wonderfully attached to your family members. It's cute. Plus then I can tease my friends and say, "I belong and yoooou don't, nah- nah, nah-nah, nah, nah!"

Look, I never said maturity was my strong point ;)

--Sometimes when you cry, you try to fight it and your lower lip bends down and you take big inhales of air and I JUST DIE because you're so stinkin' CUTE! I hate when you cry but sometimes I love it.
Just sometimes though and NOT when you're good and pissed about something.
Like getting your nose wiped which is, for whatever reason, UNACCEPTABLE in your book.
Hell hath no fury like Luxe getting her nose wiped.
SHEESH!

--I think my hair is finally done falling out. Thank the Lord because it's been MONTHS? Can that be right? I'll have to go back and see but it's been a long time. And, I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a particularly vain person but at the same time, you don't go messing with my hair. It's, like, my HAIR. And I love it. Minus freaking bald spots which is what I was thinking I was going to have and that is NOT a fair post-partum experience! On top of everything else, I could at least still have good hair.
Or not.
Whichever.
UGH.

--Because I am completely stubborn, I have refused to buy almost any clothes since you were born. I have had to get a few things here and there but I could probably count them on one hand. I just don't want to waste money on things that I have no intention wearing a few months from now. So it's really quite SUCKED to get dressed for much of anything because I (apparently) seem to wear like children's sizes or something in my pre-you days because I pull stuff out, look at it and gasp, "WHO wears this size? It's like for a 12-year-old!" I do that because I'm totally annoyed that I can't fit into it yet.
BUT.
I have ONE PAIR of black pants that I wear for dress-up occasions in the winter time (and I have ONE PAIR because I don't like to dress up in the winter time) and I tried them on around Thanksgiving it was a big, fat, NOPE.
I tried them again for a recent Christmas party and...they worked, they worked!
I'm not saying they were terribly comfortable but they were ON.
I high-fived myself for 15 minutes over that one because I didn't have to suddenly own TWO pairs of dressy black pants.
YIPPEE!!

--Which brings me to a sliver of advice for you. Because now that I know your gender, I can talk to you specifically as my daughter and I'd like to say this much: when you have children, Luxie, be kind to yourself.
Don't be impatient and don't beat your body down just so you lose your baby weight faster and DEFINITELY do not go by anyone's timeline but your own. Your body will do as it will do but you must remember that something horrifically enormous has happened to it and it takes time to recover. You will probably feel okay with this right in the beginning, as you're holding a newborn, but as time moves on, you might feel less okay with how fast you are returning to "you."
With the boys, I was completely back to "me" within just a few months.
Greer took a bit longer and Creux even longer than THAT. (10 months maybe?)
Anyway, the point is that I just want to tell you that it IS hard to recover from a pregnancy but that it's important to appreciate the body you have and what it can do.
It will not always been easy.
But no matter what I may perceive as my own body flaws, I will tell you this: I love my body.
It has done everything I could possibly have wanted it to do, it's been very, very good to me.
After all, it gave me YOU.

Love you darling girl,
Mama

You--21 Weeks, 1 Day

2010-11-30T17:28:00.000-05:00

Oh, Luxie.

We have chunk roll issues. I've had to put the whole family on notice that when you receive a diaper change, the FOLDS OF YOUR THIGHS need a swipe too.
Because they're turning red and sore due to trappage of scuzzage.
NOT very lady-like, my dear.
(Kinda gross but still cute because I love a good thigh roll. I can't help it. I also squeeze your little bum cheeks to accentuate your ripples of deliciousness. Yes, I know this is weird. I do not care.)

You slept eight hours last night and I slept six.
I feel vindicated today.
Like I won something.
Which I did: sleep.

You slept so long because you were up really late.
You normally go down (in your swing which needs to S-T-O-P) around 8:00-8:30.
But last night, it was 10:30 before you gave in and that was only because I broke down and nursed you again.

You need to start sleeping upstairs (um, the way I originally wanted you to) but I'm hesitant to move you because of your lack of room space.
I don't want to move you to my bed for naps alone because I will only have to transition you in a month or so out of the bed and into a crib because you'll be rolling on your own.
Two transitions are way worse than one cuz I know you ain't gonna like the one as it is.
But it must be done.
Soon.
You're settling into the 2.5 naps a day thing, pretty regularly, so...we need to get crackin' on a space for you.
Since you are sleeping through the night, (or are able to when feeling good), there's no reason to keep you in bed with me at this point.

But I want to.
We'll probably keep the night time co-sleeps for a time longer--I hate when that goes.
And at the same time, I remember when Creux left....it was hard for a few days and then I was like, "WOW, I like not tip-toeing around!"
So I know there's an upshot to taking my space back but still.
I love me my snugglers.

Interestingly, probably because you're such a good sleeper and aren't eating around the clock, I think you're lifting the ban on the suppression of my fertility.
I normally don't get my periods back until about a year later--so this is REALLY early for me.
Creux didn't sleep how you're sleeping until he was 16 months old and by then, he was taking in solid food and cutting back on breastmilk.

I'm not going to wake you up at night to feed you just to stall the return of my monthlies but DARN...I was hoping for more time, I guess because it's quite nice without it!
And look, while I would absolutely welcome another little sweet one at some point, I'd like to not be starting another installment of "Expectant" just yet, if you know what I mean.
Plus, your dad would have heart failure so....you know.

We're heading out on date night--with you starring as chaperone!
Chaperoness :)

Uh oh, I hear you.
Through the vents.
"Waaaaah!"
And I don't even have my makeup done!
Must run!
See you in a moment when Emily comes in search of a feed source!

XO,
Mama

You--20 Weeks, 6 Days

2010-11-28T23:31:00.000-05:00

This time of year has been interesting for me as I'm constantly remembering where I was with you last November.
I was S.I.C.K.
In spite of that, Thanksgiving was very special as, a few nights before the actual big day of feasting, we told the kids that you were coming.

My idea had been to pass out a piece of paper and have each of your siblings write what they were most thankful for that year.
On my slip of paper I had writtnen, "I am thankful for Chas, Rhyse, Greer, Creux...and the baby in my tummy."

Don't take this the wrong way but it was not as momentous of an occasion as I had imagined it to be.
The phone rang right in the middle of my announcement and I ended up having to yell over the ring, "DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID???" because they were all staring at me blankly.

On top of that, Rhyse turned to me and, instead of saying acknowledging my news, he said, "What about Dad?" because I stupidly didn't name him in my thankful list.

SO, it wasn't quite the "WOW!" reaction I thought I'd get and watching it back on the Flip (we video'ed the moment for you--you will be annoyingly disappointed, I fear) I had to laugh because....that's just life around here right now.
Ringing phones and blank stares make up a good portion of my days :)

That's just about the only good memory I have of this month though.
I remember dragging myself up to bed for a nap last year while Daddy slaved away in the kitchen preparing the Thanksgiving meal and all I wanted was for the day to just pass as quickly as possible.
I don't remember actually throwing up that meal but I'm sure I did.

The sickness aside, that was just a hard time for me in general, though I still can't understand why.
I don't remember being so low before with any of your siblings but I cried buckets through the beginning of your pregnancy.
I love being pregnant, LOVE being pregnant, so it stunk that I was not loving it so much that time around with you.
I did absolutely grow to LOVE being pregnant with you as soon as the fog of that early bit lifted (my favorite period was this past May on vacation--my bump was in full effect and I felt fabulous. Beautiful, sexy, very...feminine. And so excited to meet you.)

I'll tell you this though: that period was so hard on me, it definitely gives me pause when I think about the possibility of another.
The end, that whole birth fiasco, was nothing compared to my first trimester.
I don't like feeling that out of control emotionally.
The sickness is one thing but the depression (?) was another.
I suppose it's probably very similar to the baby blues that many suffer from when hormones are crashing after birthing a baby.
And I probably get a touch of that but nothing like what happened at the start.

The difference, I will say, is that during the after-birth lows, I remember noticing it.
Like, in the midst of a rant, I would think: You are not even making sense anymore, crazy woman. You're super pissed and your mouth is running but you're not making any freaking sense.
Whereas in the beginning, I completely lacked that insight.

(I remember even saying to Daddy once, in the middle of a stupid argument...."You're just lucky that I don't suffer from post-partum depression because THEN you'd have to be home!" He was working tons, TONS, right after you were born and I was feeling lonely and hormonal so I was upset-- it's a hard time to be alone. And then, right after I said that, I slapped my hand over my mouth and said, "Wait. Oh my God, wait. (Gasp!) Am I post-partumly depressed? AM I?  We're (the recently post-parumed) always the last to know, aren't we? WAAAAAH...")

I'm telling you this because I'd like to apologize in advance for probably passing on the Crazy Woman gene.

But that was then and this is now and I/we all survived that and now we are just...blissfully in love!
Me and you.
Actually you and everyone.
You've wrapped the whole darn house right around your chubby little finger, you have!

My favorite time of the day with you is in the morning because you're so happy to be awake and everyone else is so happy FOR you to be awake.
I'll bring you down and you'll get kisses from Daddy for a bit, then Chas will whisk you off, then Rhyse will complain that he hasn't had a turn, then Greer will want to lay with you and watch iCarly on the couch or a Giada in my bed.
Creux just dances around you, popping in and out of your view, petting your head and (cringe) wiping boogers on you.
I've told him it's disgusting but he doesn't care.
He just giggles and runs away.
He calls you 'Wuuuuxie." Have I mentioned that before?
And Greer just said something totally hilarious the other day.
She said, "What's Luxe's middle name? I don't know Luxe's middle name!"
And I said, "It's Yeardley. Luxe Yeardley."
And she looked at me for a second and then she said, "WHY?"
I totally cracked up.
The truth is that I don't know why!
I just heard it somewhere and liked it.
Names like that stick with me when I hear them because I know they're good potential middle names.
And I know it's an unlikely choice for others.

Speaking of that, the word "luxe" is being tossed around all over place right now in ads and magazines.
I heard too that Luxe is the name of a character on a show popular with teens so I freaked right out about that. The last thing I want is for your name to be trendy. THE HORROR that would be for me.

I think I've said before (I can never remember what I write here and what I don't) that the liking of your name seems to be generational.
People my age and younger mostly like it; people older than me often say, "Well. That's...interesting.
Or, "Oh! (silence) (baffled nod) Huh!"

We were out to dinner the other night and some woman asked your name.   When Daddy told her, she lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Ooooo, my daughter is pregnant and I just HAVE to tell her that one! Let me see if I can find a pen and paper..."
I glared at your father.
"The next time someone asks that so eagerly, you say 'Mary!'"

The most annoying thing I've encountered with your name are the yahooligans who think they're SO clever by asking,"Is that like deeeeeluxe?   Hahahaaha!"
This is no longer met with a polite chuckle from me.
I'm bored with it and frankly, they always get such a kick out of themselves that the mean girl deep inside me thrashes wildly to be let out for just one, eensy, weensy mean girl response.
Luckily I have held her at bay but my own sarcastic wit is starting to ooze out around my bitten tongue.
I've probably got the patience for about two more of those deeeeeluxe, hahahaha! comments and then, I will unbite my tongue and then no one will ask me that dumb question EVER again.

Well, it seems as though I had a LOT to catch up on here as I've babbled the night away.
But it'd been long since I'd posted so I guess that makes the random tangenty babble okay, right?

At just about five months YOU:

--are kind of cranky, my love! I think you're teeth are coming in. You're like a ravenous animal with your teethers and your sleep is broken. Poor baby.

--love your Bumpo seat but are trying, with some success, to escape it. Can't you just relax and be a baby for awhile?

--are adorably pudgy, earning the "Chunk in the Trunk" title from daddy.
And sweetie, you DO have chunk in your trunk. I love it! Rippley bum celluite makes me swoooooon!

--suck to sleep with, you pushy little broad. I'm getting real tired of hugging the edge of my bed. Either share or you're O-U-T!
(I'm kidding. I couldn't just put you out. I would miss your little feet in my back way too much.)

--you laugh and laugh and laugh. Deep belly chuckles. SWOONING!

--you are fascinated by your tongue right now and you stick it out constantly. So we all stick ours out at you too.

--you're starting to try to sit up on your own but you topple quickly.

--we're packing away your 3-6m clothes, your baby bathtub, and your bouncy seat.

--we're bringing out the Jumperoo. Your life is about to change forever. (BOING!)

--I mentioned stuffing a sippy cup in your stocking and it made me sad.

--you seem to be growing interested in our food. curious. and you're reaching for every damn thing--if you catch it, you stuff it fast into your mouth.

--I love you more every single day.

Always,
Mama

You--18 Weeks, 2 Days

2010-11-10T22:51:00.000-05:00

My hair is falling out in handfuls.
It's a normal post-partum thing but still.
I don't like it.
In the shower when I wash, afterwards when I comb...it's all over the place.
I find it in my bed, and sometimes just when I run my fingers through my hair.
It's the remainder of our pregnancy together, leaving.

The line that arrived on my belly in what was most likely month six is a mere memory at this point.
But if I really look, I can still see it.

The shower always reminds me of you--of being pregnant with you.
It was my only quiet place, the only spot I really had to reflect and think in complete silence.
I worried over a miscarriage in there.
I cried hormonally charged tears.
I washed away morning sickness.
I rubbed my swollen belly.
I plotted and planned our homebirthing experience in there.
I drew your name on the shower door in the steam from my water.
It's where I sat alone when you wouldn't come and it's also where you decided to do just that.

My body is changing too--less "I JUST had a baby" and more, "I had a baby."
I can see the outline of my former self.
I can feel my waist returning.
It feels good.

I have not dropped all of my baby weight yet but have shed quite a bit of it.
I think my total gain was somewhere around 40 pounds this time (I'm normally at 36, regardless of eating ice cream daily or carrot sticks) and I've lost over half of that so far.
Another ten pounds or so and I will be....me.

I feel great.
Your infancy has not taken near the toll that I was anticipating.
I can honestly say that I was really dreading two things: the return of nursing full-time and being up three to four times a night with a newborn--that hellish sleep deprivation.
And it just so happened that neither of those things were to be issues.
Before you even arrived, I'd stopped dreading nursing and began to really look forward to it.
What I was dreading mostly was just how painful the first few weeks typically are but you weren't assaulting me like both Rhyse and Creux did.
With Creux, I was bloody and bruised and would have to mentally find my own happy place just to survive the first three minutes of his nursing session.
He came out starving, I guess.
But you...it was a piece of cake and I had little discomfort.

Sleeping has been much the same.
You've been giving me at least a five hour chunk since the very beginning.
I thought it would wear off after the first week or so but it never has.
You snuggle right up next to me and many times, I wake to see that dawn has arrived.
I can't remember the last time I saw 4am.
(Except tonight, now that I've just jinxed myself.)

I wanted a Chill Baby more than anything; more than a boy, more than a girl.
And thank you for fulfilling that request.
I don't know how I'd get through these crazy busy days if you were brutalizing me.

At four months you:

--are a pro at flipping from back to front.

--almost fell off the couch practicing your skills

--constantly are sucking your thumb (still sideways) and/or fingers

--are slimy. All the time.

--are smiley. All the time.

--have really begun to giggle spontaneously. You laugh the most for Greer but she puts the most effort in.

--have incredible balance--Daddy holds you up in the air by ONE HAND which I HATE but you balance yourself just fine.

--this is also why you'll be walking in like a month

--you bat your eyes. I swear it to be true.

--you get very excited when I come into the room. It's fantastic. Your face lights up, you flash a huge grin, and your arms and legs go wild. Your eyes don't leave me, they follow me all around the room.
You're the best stalker in the whole wide world.

--you're talking a lot. Tonight you talked for ten minutes straight, completing interrupting a conversation that Emily and I were having. You just butted your way right in, "a-gaaaaa"ing away.
Made me realize that between me, you, and Greer, the males in this family will be doing a LOT of listening.

--I just brought out teether toys for you

--I've also begun ordering your Christmas gifts. A clip-on high chair is on your list....hard to believe that very, very soon, you will join us at the dinner table.

--though you are four months and though you will soon be sitting at the table, you will not be enjoying solid food for many months yet. No processed cereals for you--it's mama's milk until you can gum some soft fruits and veggies on your own.

--you're getting bored easily. You're less happy to lay on the floor and play, partly because you always flip over but also partly because you now realize how much you like to be held and played with. And you can see very well that there are five people in the room at any given time who COULD be available to you if you beckon them desperately enough.

--6-12 month clothing for you already! Which means that everything I bought you for Christmas (months ago) is not going to fit. I didn't think you'd, uhhh, round out so well so fast!

You have stolen my heart, wee girl.
I simply can't imagine there being a sweeter baby alive.
I would contest it openly and would bet my life that it's just not possible.
Thank you for being so happy.
It makes me feel like even though this place is just a hotbed of crazy, it's a wonderful kind of crazy.
And thank you for being mine, all mine.

I don't know how I got so unbelievably lucky.

Love you, Luxie Lu.
Mama

You--16 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-10-28T22:47:00.000-04:00

YOU JUST ROLLED OVER!
I can't believe it--you're so young yet!
I'm telling you though, this house just does something to tiny people.
Everyone's always in such a daggone hurry to grown up and follow those siblings around!

Oh, Luxie.
You have stolen my heart, it's true.
I was never one to worry if I'd love my subsequent children as much as I loved Chas.
It's never been about degrees of love or having "enough" to give or anything like that for me.
What I worry over is time--making sure everyone gets what they need from me.

But you, you are just such a delight and I spend great heaping gobs of time kissing you and hugging you and doing stupid stuff just to make you smile.
When we're apart, I can't wait to get back to you.
When we sleep at night, I am so grateful to have you in my bed, to feel you so close for those hours that we could be apart.

This rolling of yours is definitely a bit sad to me for that reason because it starts the timer on you leaving my bed.
It won't be like this for much longer because as you grow stronger and realize how that (marvelously, fantastically plump) little body of yours works, you'll use it.
And it'll take you right off the cliff that is my bed!

You'll likely be crawling in two months time.
How did we get here so fast?
I feel like you just arrived, Luxie.
The days are flying by me and I guess in some regards, they are bittersweet because I don't feel like I've had as much time with you as I'd like.

There have been days recently where I've thought to myself...I feel like a working mom.
I nurse you and then, just as you are awake and happy and drooly and smiling so wide I think your face might just crack, I zip off to run someone somewhere and your day goes by without me there.
I've never ever been apart from anyone else as much as I've been apart from you.
And I've had nearly whole damn days of this zipping in to nurse and then zipping right back out again.
And I HATE it.

The alternative though isn't fun for you as you have Car Issues (MUCH improved but still) and the reality is this: I am mommy to four others.
In order to try and do right by everyone, I end up splitting myself between five people and I don't always feel great about how the chips of my time fall.

I think it's just part of mothering a big family and I don't necessarily want everyone to scrap their favorite activities so I can lounge in bed with you more but...still.
I never wanted to be a working mom so this is a difficult feeling for me sometimes and it's a new feeling, too.
I don't remember this even after having Creux.
But with each child, I must juggle harder and faster and maybe the difference is in the amount of balls that I drop.
I used to drop non-important balls, like forgetting to attend something I signed up for.
That stuff isn't even on my register these days.
The balls I drop now often have my children's names on them and BOY does that stink to realize.

Having said that, I do whisk you off to bed in private whenever I get the chance.
In the mornings, I stay upstairs until after your first nursing.
In the afternoons, after running around all day, you and I will climb into bed together for a brief nursing and it does us both a world of good.
I've heard the same sigh of contentment whistle out of you the same as it does me when we finally meet up this way.
There's just an amazing biological connection between us--so strong and natural and pure.
And the best feeling in the world is to just indulge that a little bit.
It's necessary--vital.
We both need it.

You:

--are starting to suck your thumb again! You did this when you were very new, whenever you could "catch" it, but now you know where your hands are and have no trouble getting them to your mouth. You suck it kind of funny though, with your hand turned down so that your fingers fall under your chin. SO. CUTE.

-- are beginning to lose the hair at the back of your head.

--are not only starting to roll over but trying to sit up as well.

--spend copious amounts of time blowing raspberries. This is your preferred method of communication with me, too. You will listen and smile while I talk and then there will be a brief pause while you wait to see if I'm going to continue or not and then if I don't, you start "talking" back with spit bubbles. Somehow you make this charming.

--have picked up the name "little sister." Greer is often called "sister" around here so it's not a stretch that this nickname would extend to you--modified, of course.

--when you are pissed, you scream and it sounds super girly and high pitched. It's adorably monsterous.

--are moving into 6 month clothes. (Pork chop!)

Today marks the one year anniversary of You. I learned of your quiet existance one year ago today and I've been just lost in that memory all week long but especially today. Walking around tonight with your siblings (you stayed in with Memaw), it was very surreal to me. Last year, I wondered about you, who you'd be (boy? girl?), what we'd end up naming you (not the name I SWORE it would be), and how things would change by this time this year.

You light up my life and the best decision I ever made was to push for you, my fifth baby.
I've written before that you were never a part of the "original deal" as far as family planning was concerned and it wasn't until I had Greer even that I started feeling like four wasn't my number.
I feel so grateful for you, so lucky, so happy that I followed my heart, that your daddy followed it too :), and that you are sleeping so peacefully in your swing while I sit and write to you.

Today is a special day, one that I'll never forget.
Last year on this night, you arrived in my heart.
This year, you rolled over.

I can't wait to see what next year brings.

(One more little trick or treater, for sure!)

Love,
Mama

You--15 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-10-20T22:00:00.000-04:00

You're much better!
That was a doozy of a cold and it definitely had you down for a few days but you're so much better now.
I suspect that we had a touch of strep here in the house so I was worried that you'd pick it up.
But you probably had enough good exposure and had the immunities that I was building up on my own, passed to you through my milk, that it kept you from getting super sick.
I'm just glad it's over!
Sick babies are the WORST in a family.
My worry shifts into over-drive.

I bought you a teething toy yesterday.
It's CRAZY to think that you're just about four months old and this teething business is really just right around the corner.

So is rolling.
You flipped onto your side while lying on your activity mat today.
It won't be long now and you'll be a rolling machine.
Then crawling.
Then walking.
Our babies usually walk between 9-10 months (freakishly gross-motor advanced, I'm telling ya!) and to look at you, it's insane to think of you toddling around this place in six months time.
But it'll happen in the blink of an eye.

We had to switch your swing from the cradle rock, side-to-side, to the safer front-to-back mode.
You were trying to sit up in that thing and ended up slumping over one side, scaring the life out of me repeatedly.

You've moved into size 2 diapers.
And it's funny to me, now that you're all super cute and chunked out, that EVERYONE comments on how much you look like your daddy.
It's true.
All of you babies do at this point, with Creux probably resembling Daddy the most as an infant but you all have those round Martin eyes, as blue as the sea, and there just becomes this really strong family resemblence that I can't quite put my finger on...I just identify it as "Martin" like everyone else does.
I'm hearing less the Greer connection and more Daddy right now.

In private, Daddy says, "We've had a lot of sweet babies but she may just be the sweetest."
Which makes me laugh.
Because he does not realize that he says that every time we have a new baby.
And I'm not telling you that to diminish his statement (because it really may be true) but to point out what a baby lover he really is and how lucky you are to be his.
He's simply the best when it comes to you babies.
He's never put out about stuff--never complains when I wake him to change a diaper, or when I ask him to give a bath, change an outfit, hold so I can get a break, whatever.
It always seems to be his pleasure.
And YOU have already wrapped him around your eensy weensy finger.
I saw him laying on the bed tonight with you--you were just dazzling him with smiles and he was caught up in your sweetness.
It's precious, really.

You laugh when I chomp your neck.
The boys like when you slap at your dangling toys.
You no longer scream in the car. (WHEW.)
You light up whenever a sibling magically appears an inch from your nose though I can tell that Creux makes you slightly uncomfortable still.
(Me too, doll, me too ;))

Halloween is almost here.
I've been sort of tripping down my own Memory Lane, remembering this time from last year.
From before I knew of you.
We were at a farm recently and I walked by a place where I remembered us gathering for a family photo last October and it took me back there in my mind. I remember thinking: "I wonder if there will be someone else in this picture next year? Am I pregnant?"
I was pretty sure there would be.
And I was pretty sure I was.
But you never know.
Still, I was excited about the idea.

And you are better than I could have ever imagined.

I love you, Luxie-Lu.
XX

Mama

You--14 Weeks, 2 Days

2010-10-13T21:11:00.000-04:00

Oh Luxie.
You are so sick.
You have your very first real cold and it STINKS.

Two days of vomiting now--thankfully it's only milk so it's not so bad but it's the worst thing I've ever heard.
You're feverless though and I believe that this is just your way of getting rid of all of the mucous that's rattling around inside you.
You can't blow your nose so you sneeze it out and you can't cough it up so you puke it out.
I can tell it's not normal vomit as it's very...well, mucousy.
Gross, right?

You woke us around 5:45ish in the early morning.
I'd just nursed you and you were settling back to sleep but were having a hard time doing so.
Since you're so snotty, it's super hard for you to breath while nursing.
You end up gulping and gasping and then crying in frustration.
But you managed to get a meal in and we laid down together and then you started coughing and coughing and coughing and then WHOOSH!
You projectiled all over yourself, me, the bed.
And when I scrambled out into the dark and fumbled for a light, I passed you off to Daddy who held you during the second wave of nasty funk.
We changed you and both slept on towels.

This morning you did it again and ended up starting the day with a bath.
I'd been a little worried due to all that vomiting but I really don't suspect a virus to be causing it--I honestly believe it's your body's way of getting rid of the bad stuff sitting around inside you so I thought we'd see how the day went before taking you into the doc.
I don't think they'd be able to do anything anyway.
I'm just keeping you comfy at home, making sure your eating and sleeping...and having wet diapers.
I check your soft spot too for signs of dehydration.
But so far, you seem to be handling this alright.
The rest of the day was eventless in the way of puke :)

I've never known a happier puker either!
You vomit and then dazzle me with a gummy smile.
It breaks my heart--you're just so darn SWEET!
And I've noticed that when you're struggling to breathe in your sleep, I hold my breath involuntarily.
It's only when I think you've inhaled finally that I do too.
It's weird--I'm aware of it but unable to stop myself.

Luxe, you are officially one year old--to me.
This is right about the time last year that you were made.
Called up, if you will.
It's so crazy to think that you started out as just this little twinkle in my eye.
I went to the pumpkin patch last year with you dividing like mad inside me and I had no clue of your existence.
I wondered, of course.
But I had still had weeks of wondering to do before I could find out.

And then there was that negative pregnancy test.
I was so grouchy and snippy all week long after that.
Crushed by disappointment.
It still boggles my mind that I didn't retest a few days later--I waited almost a whole week!
When I finally did, l remember watching your super, super faint line, that "little line of mine" grow dark right before my eyes.
Announcing your "arrival."
I found out about you the night we went trick-or-treating and I was so happy I don't think my feet actually touched the ground.
I was so high.

Here we are a year later and you're better than I could have ever imagined.
Three and a half months of chubby delight, you are!
So happy and content.

You've changed so much since I've written here last:

--You're getting fat, sister. The all-milk diet certainly agrees with you.

--You're doing better in the car. We bought you some toys. And they seem to intrigue you enough to help you forget about how much you friggin' HATE your seat.
Thank. GOD.

--Though you're doing better, I've rearranged how we shuffle you around town and it's a simple plan: we don't take you unless we absolutely have to.
I'm lucky to have help at home that I trust, mostly in the form of your cousin and your oldest brother.
I've left you more than I've ever left any baby.
But I think you are happier for it as I leave A LOT and instead of getting dragged all over the place, you sleep in the swing.
It's been a nice adjustment.

--You're drooling and chewing on your fists any chance you get! Already, this drooling stuff? And stuffing things into your mouth? Noooooo.

--You crack me up when you find your hands. You lay back and inspect them curiously, turning them from side to side. Like..."What in...the hell... is THIS????"

--You pull my hair. Or you cling to it. You just seem to like it in your fingers.
All you babies have been that way.

--You're never cradled anymore, always held upright and mostly held facing outwards. This is my signature baby holding move--I very rarely hold babies over the shoulder or on my hip. You guys like to look around!
I don't blame you. There's lots of good stuff to see.

--You are the Raspberry Blowing QUEEN! You blow, I blow. We're both soaked by the time we're done playing.

--You're talking a lot these days. Cooing, trilling. High to low, making funny expressions with your eyebrows. It cracks me up.

--And when I laugh, you light up with a smile. Happiness IS contagious.

I sure hope you get better soon, my little Mucous Monster.
(I stole that from Chas, who held you the other day until proclaiming you to be "too juicy" for his liking and then he said, "Please come get this Mucous Monster." I thought that was worth stealing.)

Love,
Mama

The Morning Of Your Birth--Game Plan

2010-09-28T14:57:00.000-04:00

I didn't sleep well after the events of the night before.
I really hadn't planned on sleeping, actually.
We were "taking a break" which, in hindsight, was probably Jill's kind way of letting me down easy.
But deep down, I knew we were done with homebirthing.

I'd thought then, that night, that I'd truly never been more exhausted but I would prove myself wrong.
The day of your birth, that morning when I officially woke, it was then that I'd never been more exhausted.
I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours at this point so I was physically drained and mentally, I'd shut down a bit.
I was almost despondent.
So very disappointed.
And while I knew I'd be having a baby later in the day, I had a whole different take on how things would go.

Since I woke up without any contractions, my plan was to make a leisurely appearance at the hospital.
Because I was so tired and would be in the hospital anyway, I now planned on a medicated birth.

(There is no shame in a medicated birth, in my opinion. Unless you are the woman currently feeling like your insides are being set on fire and twisted up like scrap metal, I say "shut yer piehole." Luxie, you do what you want when it comes to this and don't let anyone persuade you one way or another. I'll always give you my take on the matter since I've now done it both ways but there are pros and cons to each. More than anything else, I say "stay away from Nazi nurses." In fact, I will gladly help you in this matter! BUT, if you would like to know, I'd choose natural. Surprised?)

I woke Daddy up around 7:30am.
I'd slept so badly that I could've woken him at 5:00, 5:20, 5:45, 6:10, or any twenty minute period after that.
But I wanted to make a game plan for the day and this seemed like a less cruel hour than the ones previously mentioned.

I had no idea that the midwives had stayed overnight.
They slept on our couches and it's still strange to me that I never thought about where they went or what they were doing after leaving my bedroom the night before.
I guess it makes sense that they would be there but still.
I was sort of thrown by that but immensely happy that they were near.

I never truly believed that either of us were in any harm, I know I keep saying that.
But I should admit that I was very uncomfortable the night before and was worried about you being stressed from all the laboring activity.
At one point, your hair could been seen from my birthing position so I know it just must've been wild for you, too.
The in and out, and starting and stopping, the strange hands in your private space.
I wanted to hear your heartbeat.
I knew Jill had the Doppler in her bag and I just wanted to hear you.
And then I could get on with my day.

When Daddy woke up, he asked me what I wanted to do.
I said that I knew we should go to the hospital at that point.
What else could be done?
He went to get Jill.

Jill came up and we talked for a bit in my bed.
She knew I was disappointed and tired but I think there was another emotion coursing through me and it was this woman-on-the-verge thing.
I was hanging on by a thread.
What I wanted to do was spend the day in my bed moping and feeling sorry for myself.
And sleeping.
God, I need sleep so badly that morning.

I wanted to be left completely alone--I didn't even want Daddy around.
I needed time to sort of recover from the whole everything-but-nothing from the day before.
But I knew I was totally out of time.
Jill and Abby were both in support of me leaving home and having you in the hospital, the sooner, the better, since now we'd opened us up to infection.
I know this because I pushed the issue one last time.
But THIS time it was YOUR choosing!

When Jill and I were first speaking, she asked how I was feeling and I told her all that I just wrote here.
And then I said, "And last night I was having all those contractions and today--nothing."
Because it was true.
I wasn't having any contractions that morning.
It was like the events of the night before were already a distant memory to my uterus.

I moved from my bed into the bathroom and I started pulling things out for my hospital bag.
I wasn't crying but I was just...quiet.
Tired.
Sad.
Dreading the day.

Isn't that strange to say?
And it's not that I dreaded your birth--that was the only bright spot in all of it.
But I did not want to go to the hospital in my condition.
I did not want to be the homebirth-gone-bad.
I did not want to be harassed about my water being broken.
(And now that time has passed, I can say it: I lied to them about the timing of that. I think I shaved off, oh, a DAY because I absolutely KNEW they'd totally flip out.)
I did not want to be in the hospital environment, didn't want to stay there, didn't want to leave your siblings, didn't want to, didn't want to, didn't want to.

Jill listened to me and then she planted the seed of all seeds:
"Angi, no one can MAKE you stay in the hospital."
I'm sorry, what?
No one can MAKE me?
I looked at her.
"What will happen if I leave?"
"You will have to sign papers taking full responsibility for yourself and your baby. And they won't like it one bit. It's not done often but it CAN be done."

I didn't make my decision right then and there to leave but I was super happy she tucked that bit of info into what was left of my brain because I would later need it.
I can recall the EXACT moment when I made the decision to walk "against medical advice" and it wasn't until after you'd arrived.
I was treated precisely how I thought I'd have been treated by my labor and delivery nurse and the doctor in charge of your birth.
But when that treatment extended to YOU, we were out of there.
(I'll tell you more later. I'm getting ahead of myself!)

Jill and Daddy and I discussed hospital choices.
She preferred us going to Grant but I was definitely hesitant.
We have a terrific surburban hospital about three minutes from us with a gorgeous maternity wing and all kinds of bells and whistles.
Plus I'd already delivered there twice (Chas and Creux) so that's where I wanted to go.
But Jill and Abby were more comfortable dealing with the staff at Grant as this was where they typically took their patients who needed "help".
Grant, however, is inner city.
Like people go there for gun-shot wounds from bar-room brawls.
It was not giving me the warm and fuzzy, to say the least.
They left the decision up to me and I pushed it back on Daddy.
He felt like they would know better in this situation so I went with it.

(I do not regret this decision and believe that while I MIGHT have received slightly better care in the beginning, I would have faced a much bigger battle getting us out of there if we were at St. Ann's.)

Jill left to make the call to Grant to alert them that we were coming in.
I wanted a shower, even though I'd showered the night before.
Really, I think I needed an excuse for alone time.
I needed to pull myself together emotionally, at least the bare minimum.
I'd already planned to help myself out physically with the epidural so I figured I was good there.
But I needed some time to come to terms with everything that had happened and was about to happen.
I needed to find some strength to at least get me to the hospital.
I was so very, very tired.

I had no idea that everything was seconds away from changing yet again.
There would be no rest for me.

You--11 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-09-22T21:16:00.000-04:00

Luxe,
You are THE MOST STUBBORN baby we've had.
And I know you hate it but you MUST make peace with your car seat because I feel like a child abuser whenever we go somewhere.
I just keep thinking about how it must not make any sense to you that I won't come and stop your crying.
I know you only want picked up.
But I'm driving, child!

When you start, you do not give in until you get what you want.
Your father says you get that from me.
He's right.
But it IS annoying to be on the receiving side of such...determination.
If you start crying in the driveway, you will continue crying until we reach our destination and by then you're practically hyper-ventilating.
And SO AM I.

I don't understand this!
I make sure you're fed and clean before we go anywhere.
You are surrounded by siblings--you face the Littles since you sit backwards and you'd think those two monkeys would be entertaining but nope.
And Rhyse and Chas sit next to you.
But your wailing is just out of control.
PLEASE stop.
It's horrible for both of us and I feel like a need a valium just to get to the grocery and back.

You're digging your heels in over the stupid swing, too.
As it turns out, you really do not want to sleep anywhere else.
And also as it turns out, if I can't make it happen then you won't sleep--you will only doze for about 15-20 minutes in my arms.
By the time I finally get us back home, you're overly tired and you are mean!
Yowling at me from across the room, yowling at me while I carry you, yowling at me while I bounce and snuggle and even sometimes feed.
You'll break your suction to yowl some more just as a reminder to me how pissed you are.
I GET IT.
But we have things to do!
And you, the fifth baby, are supposed to think the car is your napping place, not a torture chamber!
You're supposed to be happy sleeping on the run.
And yet.
You.
Are.
Not.

Bummer.

You giggled finally.
We were in the car last week and Chas was talking about how you giggled and Daddy was shaking his head when I asked him.
"Did she? Oh my gosh, did she? I MISSED IT?"
No, no, no, he kept assuring me.
But I think you giggled for them first and he just won't tell me for fear of some massive hormonal meltdown-y sobfest.
It doesn't matter though because right after that I made you laugh and you totally chuckled briefly.
Not a full belly cackle yet but it's progress.

You also totally barfed in Chas's face the other day and I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.
He sneaks into our nest in the mornings after I feed you and he picks you up and plays with you.
Makes you fly, makes you bounce, makes you smile.
And also makes you barf :)
I was sorting clothes in my closet (what to wear, WHAT TO WEAR?) when I heard the worst sound emerge from your tiny little body.
It was a... man belch.
I don't know how it escaped from bitty little you but it was impressive.

And I looked up to see Chas with his eyes squished closed, his mouth smashed tight....and lots of curdy breastmilk dripping down his lips and chin.
He was holding you and you were standing, just looking at him curiously.
I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe--it was great fun!
Thanks for that :)
(Though Chas, he's a tad more careful with just-fed-You these days. Haha.)

You're 11 pounds.
I took the Littles in for check-ups and snuck you onto the scale.
11 pounds.
Almost double your birth weight.

I like slightly pudgy You.
We pinch your inner thigh rolls, tug at the second chin you've developed, kiss your round squishy cheeks.
When you were first born, you reminded me of a wee baby bird.
But now you're like a goose.
Not quite a Christmas goose but on your way.

My favorite thing right now?
When you're nursing and I'm talking to you, sometimes you smile while trying to eat.
Suck, suck, suck, pause....GRIN....suck, suck, suck.
I love that.

And I'll tell you it sure as hell beats your yowling at me!

Tomorrow you're going to need your Big Girl Panties, Luxe, as it's co-op day-- followed by two soccer games and a dance class.
I apologize in advance for the nervous breakdown that you're going to have around 4:00pm, followed by mine at 4:45.
It's bad for you, worse for me.

We will snuggle in November, I promise.
The cold weather will come, our obligations will wind down, and me and you--we're going to hibernate and have long lazy nursings back in our nest.
It's a date.
(And I can't wait!)

Love,
Mama

You--10 Weeks

2010-09-13T22:13:00.000-04:00

I've had mass amounts of anxiety over my non-posting for you.
I swore I'd do better, posting shorter yet more frequently and I was doing so good there for a bit but MAN.
It's hard to take care of you AND write to you!
I'm wiped by the end of the days and it's all I can do to toss up a few cute shots of you and your sibs over on my other blog.

Life has taken a tremendous turn for crazy.
Luxie, you are the bestest baby ever and I mean that sincerely.
Ever since the start of the month, I have dragged you from place to place.
I can't get past it, can't get around it.
We no longer cuddle in my bed for late mornings or afternoon naps--there simply is no time.
I took one nap with you recently, on the first Thursday that we started back to co-op, and I'm not even sure I'd call it a nap.
A mid-day, short-term COMA might be more accurate.

So let me catch you up on you really quickly and then I need to get showered.
I can only shower at night right now while you're sleeping in your swing as my days are too busy and I'm NOT getting up early.

--Your eyelashes are fully in. I noticed this today and took some photos.
Yes, of your eyelashes.

--Luxe, you HATE your carseat and I can't fix this for you. I never ever expected you to dislike that thing so much but if I found a needle buried in the back of it, it would make total sense to me. You sit backwards smack dab in the middle of our car, surrounded by siblings (two facing you, two beside you) and it does not make a damn bit of difference. If you set that thing on fire once you're able to walk, I will totally understand.

--Your swing is where you like to sleep and I don't like this at all. Wasn't I just saying how important I felt it was to shelter you from the noise and chaos downstairs? You're now up in the mornings around 8:30-9:00 and you'll stay awake for an hour or so. We'll cruise the downstairs together, cleaning up the kitchen or doing schoolwork. Then you'll drift off in my arms and I'll sneak you into bed but you never sleep long there.
If we're home (which we aren't), I'll wait until Creux heads down for his nap so it's nice and quiet and then pop you into the swing where you'd happily sleep for DAYS if I let you.

--Your hair is coming in more. Strawberry blonde?

--No giggles yet but tons of smiles and my fave coos. We talk. A LOT.
We're girls, we do that.

--Almost all of your newborn clothing has been packed away. Just a few sleeping gowns are all that's left.

--This is what people say when they first meet you:
"She looks just like the rest of them, doesn't she?"
"Oh my goodness, she looks EXACTLY like her big sister!" (You do. It's uncanny.)
"She's so tiny! How much did she weigh when she was born?"

That last one is so strange to me because I think you're huge! You're nice and solid in my arms, you have two chins and some really cute rolls down by your girly bits. No cellulite yet (I keep checking cause I adore baby cellulite) but we're working on it. Not sure how much you weigh but am guessing somewhere in the 9-10 pound range.

--I've left you several times already. Last week I had to get my hair done and I was a nervous wreck, terrified that you'd wake and need me and that I'd be out in Granville having my fall low-lights put in my hair.
I walked in and said, "I don't have long today. If my sitter calls, I'm walking out with wet, uncut hair if I need to so LET'S MOVE IT!" Because I really didn't need uncut hair. I'd gone almost three long months without any diva maintenancing and BOY did I need it.

--You're just so different these days. You're a big girl, two and a half months old. No more newborny stuff, even sleep-wise--no more. No sleeping on my tummy, no more totally sporadic feeds (you can go three hours now and most times you do), no more baby coma, no more just...newness. You're established somewhat and you've acclimated yourself here just fine. You tolerate the noise pretty well, not even freaking out when someone goes running past you shrieking over someone taking something of theirs. Of course, you've been listening to that crap ever since you were a twinkle in my eye so maybe that's not so surprising.

--I bought THE CUTEST Halloween get-up for you. Not a costume, a...frock. With tulle and glitter and sparkles. Halloween should be every day for you.

You're just a delight.
I love you madly and even on the short runs that I do while you're sleeping...I can't wait to get back to you.
When you sleep long, I can't wait for you to wake so I can kiss and cuddle you a bit.
I miss you in my sleep so I dream about you.
I. Am. Smitten.

Happy 10 weeks to you.

Love,
Mama

P.S. I will do better posting. Again. This is a long-term project at this point, I see no reason not to continue to write to you so...I'm in for the haul. I just need the days to be 30 hours instead of 24. I could do so much with those extra six hours, you have no idea....

The Night You Weren't Born

2010-08-31T20:59:00.000-04:00

So when you read this finally, you'll see that big gap from where I last say, "See you soon!" and then...nothing.

I was going to fill it in, to backtrack, but I'm sticking to the authenticity of Your Story.

There's a gap for a reason and the reason was that I couldn't get back to my computer.
It didn't really matter anyway because you weren't there yet.
And I couldn't have updated that post to save my life in the moment.

I said before that nothing went as planned and this much is true.
Things seemed to be going really well but it was just a facade.
You weren't coming that night because you weren't meant to.
And believe me, I tried everything I could think of to convince you to change your mind.

The rush, I suppose, was only in that our risk of infection was rising with each hour that passed.
I truly believed that if either Abby or Jill would just help me out a bit internally that it would be enough to trigger my labor.
I was right...and wrong.

I'd also said a few days before you were born that I knew we were getting close but two things had to happen before you'd arrive.
One was that I'd have an epic meltdown.
And the other thing I relied on was a really vigorous and compelling round of false labor.
(And I think I also mentioned that my false labor trips have all been POST internal exams.)
I had no idea when I said this that these two things were mandatory pre-birth experiences.
I now know better.
They are.

This is Part One of Your Birth Story.
Part Two has already been partially shared on Lifelines but only partially.
I kept a lot for just you.

So I left off on July 4th, where Jill had come over, stripped my membranes, realized that I was a good 6-7 cm dilated and wanted to stick around as my contractions took off, both of us fully expecting your arrival in a short amount of time.
By the time Abby arrived, I was well on my way, with my contractions strong and long and relatively uncomfortable.

My mom had also come by--pre-membrane stripping, we'd invited her for dinner.
So while I labored upstairs, Daddy and all of the kids plus Memaw rushed through their meals.
The plan was that Memaw would take the small ones, leaving the boys behind to witness your arrival, and then she would bring them back as soon as we called with your news.
It was only sometime in the 5 to 6:00 hour at this point and honestly, I think we all thought we'd have a baby within the next hour or so.

I labored in bed for a bit, waiting for Daddy to come up and for the Littles to leave and for things to really pick up for me.
In hindsight, I should have known it was too easy.
Because it was.
Though I had to breathe through the contractions with concentration, would go completely still and silent when working through one, I just should have known.
(Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say. But the very next morning, when I stepped into the shower and was slammed with my first REAL contraction, I knew the difference immediately.)

The weirdest thing about this round of false labor, and this is my personal belief of what it was, was that for all intents and purposes, my body really portrayed signs of impending birth.
I fully dilated at some point and fully effaced.
This is just beyond bizarre to me--I had no idea this could happen during false labor.
But it is a condition that DOES exist as Abby showed me the box she checked on some sort of official paperwork after the fact but it's rare.
Wouldn't you just know it :)

Anyway, when I was fully dilated and effaced, (I did truly reach 10cm) Abby and Jill said I could start pushing.
Again, I should have known something wasn't quite right because though my body acted ready for birth, I never felt that urge to push.
And I can honestly say, having now gone through natural labor, that that urge is the strongest of urges I've ever felt.
There's hunger and thirst and human contact...and pushing.
Those are the true basic urges that exist, if you ask me.
So I never felt that.
But I pushed anyway.

I moved from our bed and labored standing which actually felt much better.
And I pushed in this position for awhile, with everyone there, the boys included.
It was far more awkward than I had anticipated but that was because I wasn't so far gone in pain.
As opposed to real labor, where the whole entire free world could see my goodies and I wouldn't bat an eye, so focused on dealing with my own private pain-consumed hell, here there started to be lulls in my contractions which left us all sort of waiting...and staring at my mostly naked self.
It just didn't feel right to me and I was growing uncomfortable with my audience and I could tell Abby in particular was growing concerned with my lack of progress,
I think we all started to suspect that something was amiss at about the same time.

Time slipped away from me.
I looked at the clock and couldn't believe so much time had passed.
At this point, we'd been "pushing" for over an hour.
I was exhausted and getting frustrated.
What was going on?
I never dreamed it would have taken me more than ten minutes to actually push you into the world.
(In reality, it took me about a minute--one contraction, two pushes.)

At some point, Jill decided to check me internally while I was pushing.
I was still standing beside the bed so she reached up during the next contraction and then she yelled, "STOP!"
Stop?
"When you started pushing, your cervix closed back up."

This was not good.

This basically meant that I couldn't get you out, no matter how hard I tried.
It meant that if I continued pushing, you would bruise my cervix and then I'd be in real trouble.
It meant that we had to stop and this was bad because now we'd really messed around up near you and the risk of infection for both of us just went soaring.
It meant that if things did not change fast, that we were going to be going to the hospital.

So we stopped.

Whereas before this was this buildup of excitement as my contractions had picked up, now there was a heaviness in the room.
I know we were all thinking the same thing and it was this: something was just not right.
Not at all.

We backpedaled majorly.
The boys left the room as the adults talked.
Going to the hospital was definitely mentioned by the midwives but I hadn't given up yet.

"How much time will you give me?" I wanted to know.
I was still hopeful that things would pick back up but really, I knew they wouldn't.
I had already started to suspect that we were done for the night.
d AnI felt like my body was betraying me.

"If nothing happens by morning," they said.

We decided that we'd take a break.
Charlie and I would go for a walk and see if we couldn't get my contractions to pick back up.
I know this is a method that works a lot of times for laboring women but this was just so far off from what I knew.
I've never had to convince my body into labor before.
Normally I'm given notice, the kind I needed "five minutes ago."
Normally I go straight from being fine one minute to intense labor in just a handful.

We walked but my spirits were down, down, down.
During the time we were out there, I would have some good, strong contractions but not as strong as what I was having earlier or what I remembered needing in order to bring you out.

We probably walked for 45 minutes or so and on our second round, we saw Abby come out of the house and walk down to the sidewalk to meet us.
She wanted to talk to me.

As it turned out, Abby was starting to wonder if there wasn't some mental stuff going on with me.
Maybe was I deep down worried about this home birth? Too scared of a natural labor?
Or was it more rooted than that...perhaps was I worried about your birth because I was conflicted about how I'd care for another in addition to all that I already do?

"We're a lot alike, " I remember her saying, "I like to be very in control, too."

But I was certain then and am absolutely certain now that it wasn't some sort of mental block--this stalling of my labor.
I hadn't yet clued in that it was necessarily a trip of false labor---instead I started to worry that something wasn't working right physically.
There's definitely merit found in each of her inquiries but there's also nothing but truth in my response.
It was not mental.
It was, what I firmly believe, my typical round of false labor which has always occurred in the hours following an internal exam.
Nothing less and nothing more.

It was probably around 10:30-11:00pm at this point and I knew we were giving up.
Labor shouldn't be a forced thing, it never has been in the past for me, and I could tell that I was pushing an issue that wasn't to be pushed.
We went inside and talked to the midwives.
We all agreed to take a break and to see how we felt in a few hours.

I never left my bedroom after that so I had no idea that they both ended up sleeping on the couch.
I was a totally exhausted woman by that point, beaten so bad physically and emotionally.
I wanted time alone and so I took a hot shower.
My contractions totally subsided.

When I came out I was so tired, I could barely speak nor keep my eyes open.
Daddy was tired too--at some point, he came to bed and fell right to sleep.
And though I was exhausted, I did not sleep much or well.
We'd just that day placed a light in the pool off our deck and it glowed eerily all night long, disturbing my sleep.
I'd forgotten as well that we'd turned off the fan and opened the deck door to warm up the bedroom for your arrival and everything was still this way.
The room was hot and strangely illuminated.
I tossed and turned and woke hourly.

This was to be the only time during the whole birthing experience that I truly worried about your well-being.
I was very concerned that you had become stressed during that whole laboring ordeal and I kept poking you throughout the night.
I also knew that I no longer could justify staying home any longer.
Deep down, I was not comfortable.
I hated imagining what the next day would bring for me except for this one thing: I knew for sure that you would be in my arms by the end of it.
I imagined an uncomfortable but uneventful check-in, a "typical for me" easy, fast delivery, and a sweet baby to hold finally.

Little did I know that you surely were to be in my arms hours later but that was the only thing I was right about.

***I'm going to switch these posts over to birth entries for the next little while so I can make sure to get this down for you. It's taken me FAR too long to get this much out and it's because I tried to do it all in one entry.

You--Seven Weeks, Six Days

2010-08-29T09:15:00.001-04:00

You seem so very big to me these days and yet, I'll take you out in public and you will stop pedestrian traffic with your cuteness.
"Ooooohhh, a NEW one!"
People love to say that.
And then, "How old is she?"
You're never mistaken for a boy which is interesting to me.
Both Chas and Rhyse, regardless of how I dressed them, were always thought to be girls to strangers.
It used to drive me crazy.

My response to "How old is she?" is now somehow...two months.
Two beautiful months.
I can't believe it.

You could not have made the adjustment any easier for your family and it's evident to me even now as I zoom around town, running errands easily (relatively speaking--nothing is easy these days), and just feeling comfortable with you in the mix out and about.

I remember with Creux that it was only about this time that I ventured out alone with him.
Unlike you, I never knew what he was going to do--whether we'd get in the middle of grocery shopping and he'd flip out or if he'd sleep peacefully the whole time.
It always seemed like the former would happen, even at home, so I was terrified to take him out publicly on my own.
Even with Greer, I just really felt my child load.
She was a wonderful baby like you but I was outnumbered for the first time and I was a little spooked about that.

At the same time, I've been through Creux and I can honestly say that I don't think it would ever be harder than what it was.
Each child changes you in a way and where Rhyse cracked my composure, my "everything needs to be perfect" way of thinking, Creux took it and ground it into the road, stomping and spitting on anything I had left.
The thing about being beaten down like that is when you get back up, you're just better able to cope in general.
So I think my tolerance of slightly hard situations (like running errands with a 5 and 2 year-old and a feeding-on-demand infant) has improved just due to life experience.
Creux did us all a favor.
As it turns out, I can be down but never out.
I didn't know that before.

You have wrapped this entire household right around your itty bitty finger.
Me, I was a goner when the stick said "pregnant" but it's sweet to see how much your daddy has fallen in love with you.
He's very, very hands-on and he always has been.
He loves babies.
But he's definitely just a bit sweeter with his girls and it's touching to watch.
He scoops you up, tells you that you're the most beautiful baby in the whole world, lets you scream at him when I'm getting ready for bed and never takes it personally :)

Chas is the same way--he may be a 13 year-old boy but he's a baby lover to the end.
He's always up for helping out with you and will hold you so that I can jump in the shower or make lunch or just...DO something for myself for three minutes.
My favorite is when he's totally engrossed in playing some online game (the boys and their games, I tell you...) and your snug right there in his lap, hooked in his arm.

Rhyse loves you rough, doesn't he?
He too asks for time with you but he still makes me a bit nervous. He's probably who you will find either the most fun or most terrifying brother, depending on your level of "HOLY CRAP!"ness.
But he's the first to say, "I'll go talk to her!" when we hear you start to fuss on the monitor.
And he does take good care of you.
He just thinks you're two is all :)

Greer and Creux spend the most time with you because they spend the most time with me.
I can't remember if I wrote about it here or on Lifelines but her first reaction to you surprised me to my core.
When we walked in from the hospital, she was napping but she came down soon after we arrived.
And I was so excited for her to meet you--she'd wanted a sister so badly and had insisted that the baby in my tummy was a girl all along.
But she totally snubbed you!
She came down and we held you out and she eyed you cooly, briefly, and then said something about going to play and she walked away.
Certainly I'd heard about new baby jealousy and/or ambivalance yet I just was surprised that it hit her like that.

She did come around pretty quickly though and she's never looked back since.
"She'll be your best friend," I keep telling her when she sits with us in bed.
Because I hope so much for this to be true.
She loves you something fierce these days and is always helping me pack away clothes and shoes that don't fit her anymore.
"These are for Luxie," she'll say.
Me, I just shrink back in horror to think of you, my tiny baby up in bed, being four and fitting into this stuff.

I totally need to get a grip, don't I?
I know, I know.

Creux, look, there's no telling what he'd do if he was left to take care of you for awhile but he manages pretty well honestly.
His hands always play over your head and they're just so BIG compared to you and boy are they dirty.
(ALWAYS dirty.)
"Wuxie," is what he says.
But he loves you mad, he's always kissing your head and smelling you.

We all smell you.
It's the weirdest, most primal thing.
You really have no scent but your own.
And it's addictive.
I'd know you from a bazillion babies in a heartbeat just from smell alone.

New with you:

You're slowly moving into 3-6 month sized clothes and I'm packing away some of the newborn stuff.

You're never swaddled anymore which I HATE because I just love a bundled little sack of baby but you're too long and you move far too much.

I've been giving you baths lately and it's heartbreakingly sweet. You are so tiny sopping wet and just as vunerable as can be. You never cry. You just stare up at me trustingly.

Your hair is growing longer and starting to fill in. It's still standing straight up on top but looks less bizarre now that it sort of seems like it'll just be curly. It's really curly when wet. Adorable.

The swing has become an acceptable place for you (so says you) and now I'm able to get some free time in the evenings. I'm not nursing you for that three hour, 10-1, period at night anymore. I'll nurse you, Daddy will usually take you and plop you in the swing for a nap, I'll spend some time putting your siblings to bed, cleaning up, blogging a bit and then I come back for you. We'll head up to bed and at this time I DO wake you even though I still hate to. But I didn't one night and you woke me up two hours after I fell asleep and that was horrid so now, we do a fresh diaper and a big fill-up while I watch a quick tv show and then...zzzzzz.

You're still sleeping like a champ. I am forever indebted to you for all the sleep you've allowed me to collect in these early days. I'm still tired but more from my lifestyle (5 kids, homeschooling, activity-hauling out the wazoo) than from having a newborn.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I will try to remember this when you dye your hair pink at the age of 16 and I am tempted to handcuff you to the kitchen table.

You have amazing head control and you keep rolling from your side to your belly.
I hope this is not indicative of things to come because I really don't want you walking at six months of age.
What is WITH all of my kids being gross-motor advanced?
Your brother Creux just started riding a two wheeler.
He's TWO.
I feel like I should call the Guinness people or something.

I found a sling that I love and you're always in it.
The only bad thing is that it keeps you snug and close to your favorite, um, things on my body so you spend ten minutes rooting around in the right area and totally drooling all over the place before calming down and just hanging out.
But it feels so good to strap you on. It feels good for many reasons but mainly because I love being so close to you and I know that you love being so close to me.

You look for me these days. If I'm speaking, you'll turn in my direction and try to find me. It's SUPER sweet. And of course, I can't help but snatch you back from whoever had you and walk off kissing, kissing, kissing you.

You talk back now, cooing slightly at me when I talk to you.
Combined with those big smiles, I just know we're close to a giggle.

Our crazy life has picked up and you're on the go far more than I'd like for you to be but it can't be helped.
School has resumed, soccer's in full force, your siblings have tons going on and so I'm dragging you from the nest a lot these days.
I HATE waking you from a good nap.
I sit and try to think of ways around it, knowing that I can't but trying anyway, before gently pulling you from your sleep.
You're pretty good about this, too.
You could rage and it would be well-deserved but you don't.

You're pretty perfect, Luxie.

I love you crazy. Really and truly crazy.
I'd do anything for you, including getting off this blog so that I can go up and snuggle with you as I can hear you stirring on the monitor.
Rhyse just went up to hold you off.
"Mom? Want me to go talk to her?"
I told you.
You're a lucky girl.
You are so loved.

Love,
Mama

You--Seven Weeks

2010-08-23T23:12:00.000-04:00

Happy Week Seven to you!
I have to say, not only are you super easy, you're super sweet.
Precious all the way around from your tiny little toes to the wacky half-curls sticking straight up off your head!

I was thinking over the weekend, sort of reflecting on our pregnancy together.
What I liked, what I didn't, what I thought overall.

My "high" points were:

-the ease with which you were conceived--it's nice to try and have it work so efficiently.

-the last family vacation we took back in May--I was feeling magnificent and could also feel you really well and that always puts a pregnant mind at ease. It was the most relaxed I've been in a long time.

-the homebirth route--am super glad I embarked on this despite a swing-and-a-miss in the end. Would do it again absolutely.

-your birth--am SUPER glad I did it naturally, though I will admit to begging REPEATEDLY for an epidural in the hospital. I never knew something so wonderful could hurt so incredibly bad but now that I know I can do it, I'm in--should there be another opportunity.

-leaving the hospital immediately--I am so happy we stuck to our guns. There was a pivotal moment after your birth that changed everything for me. I had been toying with the idea of walking out before I even arrived there as I knew the Night You Didn't Come that when I woke in the morning, we were going in. But something happened to you, something that didn't need to, and it snapped me right out of my post-birth daze. I gathered my wits, played firm nicey-nice with the staff, and got us the hell out of there.

Best. Decision. Ever.

(And I'll tell you what that event was in your Birth Story which I am clearly going to have to break into chunks like these smaller posts or I'll never get it out for you. You are a TIME-SUCKER and I can't write long pieces right now. I've got to spit out whatever I need to say in under seven minutes.)

The "Low" points were--

-weeks seven through 14. I've never felt worse, never been lower. I still have a hard time taking myself back there mentally. It really sucked, that whole business of you and I learning how to live together in harmony. I was glad that you were clearly doing so great but you truly stole my life for awhile.

-the hormonal fluctuations--I'm incredibly sensitive to hormone changes in general so pregnancy is a wallop of a dose of crazy for me. Especially during that early period. The crying (sobbing), the sensitivity (sobbing), the annoyance (bitching, then sobbing)...it was not the easiest of times.

-the beginning of your birth--I'm almost finished with this part of your Birth Story but it's hard to go back to once I stop for awhile. But what started as something so easy with my water breaking turned into a long wait of nothing, and then a something but not THE something and then...a plan change.
Believe me when I say that I did NOT want to be the homebirther heading into the hospital. I was dreading it something fierce pre-labor (once my contractions began the day of your birth, nothing mattered to me because they were so awful, I could only think of making them stop and where that happened, I didn't care by then).

-the middle of your birth--I remember lying on the bed in the delivery room, with tons of people swirling around, suffering through my contractions, having them strap on my oxygen mask, the i.v., the internal monitors for both me and you, the horrible woman assigned to my delivery...and I thought "I honestly can not believe this shit is happening to me right now. This is supposed to be my easiest labor and delivery, what with this being my fifth. And it's f*cking horrible. F*cking HORRIBLE."
Because it was.

But then it all changed the second you were in my arms.
Of course it did.
None of that mattered any more and it's not something I dwell on now.
I don't lament over your birth not being what I "wanted."
It was what it was, you know?
And by taking you home, I fixed it for me and for you and for the rest of our family.

My battery is low and so is your patience :)

Here's what's new with you at week seven:

You have amazing neck control and you've actually rolled over from your side to your belly. It was an accident and you were SUPER pissed when you did it so I'm not really counting that ;)

You are starting to hate your car seat. Oh, the screams.
And my voice only seems to infuriate you further because you can hear me but not have me.
I nearly drive off the road in Mommy Horror.

You're starting to learn to fall asleep on your own a bit. I can feed you and sometimes just lay you down beside me and you'll drift off.
You either drift off or you go BANANAS.

I know you're getting bigger because we're all rougher with you.
The kisses and snuggles are definitely less delicate.
We eat you up, unapologetically.

Ah, duty calls...

Love,
Mama

You--Six Weeks, Three Days

2010-08-19T10:16:00.000-04:00

You are the happiest in the mornings.
Right now you're jippin' me an hour of sleep at night, moving back from a five/six hour stretch to a four/five hour one.
I had been waking to nurse you around 6:00-6:30 in the morning and then again around 9ish.
But suddenly, I'm cruising through Blogland in the late 4:00am hour while you re-fuel.

You're supurb at just going right back to sleep, thank goodness.
And you'll wake again around 7ish to feed, again going right back to snoozing, sleeping in a bit in the REAL morning (the one where I don't feel like Queen of the Night still), allowing me to get up and get some things done before you "officially" wake up.

And when you do, when you're up and I open the drapes and start cooing at you, changing your clothes and kissing you with all the passion of the baby addict that I am, you start BEAMING at me.
I live for it and spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to get "just one more" before actually moving on and doing something with my day.

You're learning to sleep in bed alone which is absolutely terrific for both of us.
We're back to school these days so I really need you in a place where you can take good, solid naps and not be woken by the thundering antics of the Littles.
Plus, I'm a better mommy to the others when you're sleeping upstairs because I am not constantly hissing, "SHHHHHHHHHHH!" at them every 3.5 seconds.

Tuesday was the first day that I really stuck you up there without any warm body next to you for a quick snuggle.
You're super happy to sleep while being held and I had been doing that but now I'm more needed around the house in general and you need peace.
It didn't go well at first.
I'd nurse you and you'd fall asleep. And then I'd take you up, lay you down...and come back to get your wailing self four minutes later.
You'd hang for a bit, nurse again, fall asleep again, be whisked off to bed again....and wake up again.
After a few hours of this, you finally gave up and slept for HOURS.
And then I think you realized that it wasn't so bad without me up there because we haven't had any other problems all week long and it's been great for both of us!

You're outgrowing your newborn clothes and diapers.
We've moved on to the Stage Ones for your wee unders and I'm hunting for some cloth ones to try.
I didn't want to order any until you arrived and I'm glad I didn't because I would have ordered for the bigger bum I thought I was getting.
Yours is waaaaay cute and tiny.
Your little bottom is just the sweetest thing ever.
I forgot they came that small!
(Am rather used to Creux's daddy-sized tushie. It's big and squishy and I love that one too but yours is a very nice departure, I have to say.)

You chuckled in your sleep the other day.
I froze in place after slapping my hand over my mouth in sheer giddy excitement.
THAT was probably a reflex of yours because I can't imagine what you would find humorous enough to giggle without me near killing myself to charm you so thoroughly that you do it for me specificially.
But it was a-dor-able nonetheless and I know I said it before but I really can't wait for your giggles.

Since you're still sleeping, I need to go do some school with your brothers.
I'd much prefer to climb back into bed where you are (though you must be looking for me in your sleep because you've sucked up the spot I previously had) but it's not the cards for me anymore.

You though, you enjoy every minute of your sweet nap.
I'll see you soon.

Love,
Mama

Six Weeks

2010-08-16T22:49:00.000-04:00

Time is flying.
Definitely faster than even when I was pregnant and I really felt like that flew.

I was thinking earlier today...that so far, five kids is no harder than four.
I wonder if that statment will change in the future?
Surely I feel the workload that accompanies five children but sanity-wise, you've barely made a blip on my register.

I can absolutely chalk some of that sentiment up to you just being so darn easy--so long as I'm willing to feed you on-demand, you are an angel.
But I have to give Creux some credit here and I don't know what happened but you arrived and he pulled his lunatic self together in a big way.
He's really not even a lunatic anymore.
OR my favorite little monster.
He's really sort of just a sweet little boy with an ornery streak.
Honestly, he's always been that but I wouldn't have said he just had a streak of ornery.
I would have said he had a condition of ornery.
Very large difference measured in crazy right there :)

I met a mom the other day at the orthodontist's office--she was the receptionist there.
Actually, I'd met her back when I was still pregnant with you and I remembered her because she was pregnant too and due just a week before me.
She was back to work already and her baby was six weeks old.
Your age.

She came out from behind the desk and into the waiting room to see you.
How I remembered her was that she said, "My baby is just a little older than yours."
And it clicked for me.
Oh my goodness.
This woman, who is oogling my baby, must miss hers so much.

In that moment, I hugged you tighter.
I could not, for one single second, imagine separating from you right now.
I know some mamas need to just to make ends meet but thank God that isn't me.
Even in our darkest days, back when we were young college kids, I didn't work away from you babies.
I couldn't have borne the horrific tearing of my heart that would have occurred had I done it.
We just got real good and cozy with poor is all that happened.
I would have sacrificed anything and still would to keep you babies close.

Because this is what I know:
At six weeks, regardless of how I would feel-- and I would feel awful--I know that you would miss me.
You would cry, not for just anyone, but for ME.
We have a way together, an established rhythm and pattern, and I know without a single doubt that I can offer you comfort unlike anyone else on this planet.
I know you would look for me and listen for the sound of my voice.
You do already.
I couldn't go two hours away from you; I have absolutely no desire to do that, not even for "fun."
Even when you nap long, I crave you.
Sure, I enjoy the first hour or so but soon I start yearning for the closeness of your small body, the sweet little smiles you toss my way, your tiny head bobbing around on my shoulder, the rooting you do on my arm--I miss every bit.

I know lots of mamas that work and while I think every person needs to follow their own path in life, mine does not lead, not in any direction, to a long-term separation from my children on a daily basis.
My mom worked every day and I missed her so much and I hated my situation.
I was at daycare from morning until evening, 12 months a year, for all of my growing years.
I vowed that things would be different for my kids and I've stuck to that--with tremendous support and hard work from your daddy.

My heart just sort of ached for this woman and her baby because while I can grasp that some mamas like to work and get a sort of fulfillment from their careers, I can't imagine that this sentiment would come at just six weeks.

I'm just so grateful to be home with you.
My days are mine, each and every one, to do what I want with them.
If we feel like heading to the park, we go.
If we feel like swimming with friends, we go.
If we feel like dumping everything and staying in bed all day, we do.
And no matter what, we're together.
It makes my soul happy.

Needing to wrap--you say my free time quota is full for the day.
Good grief, you've got some healthy lungs, child.
I'm not sure anyone has ever screamed at me before with such enthusiam!

Happy 6 Weeks!

Love,
Mama

Five Weeks, Five Days

2010-08-14T13:02:00.000-04:00

BED HOG!
You, tiny little you, are a massive mattress piggy.
Every night I find myself literally hugging the edge of the bed.
And what's worse, unlike the older kids, who I could shove right over without a second thought on the matter, YOU I would have to put back to sleep so I don't dare touch you.
Ohhhh, but I want to.

And if you keep this business up, missy, I'm going to commission your daddy to build you your OWN nest.
(By commission, I mean "order.")

We sleep mostly side by side now, turned toward each other.
You are a side sleeper, besides being a migrator.
You just prefer tilting a bit to me and I do the same to you--it's just very cozy.

Although...I wake every night with some part of my upper body fast asleep.
Meaning, it feels dead because I've wrapped it over you or next to you or above you or under my own body when you steal all of the extra bed space and I'm left with so little that I have to become smaller just to stay IN the bed.
I am so still when I sleep with you that I never move.
I think maybe that's just part of co-sleeping--the instinctive mama part.
People always say, "How do you know you won't roll over on her?"
Because I know.
Because even in my sleep, I'm totally aware of you.

It's important to say, and maybe I've already said it, but I don't necessarily feel the same way about your daddy.
He sleeps differently--too hard and too aggressively.
I've noticed that IF I do move, I take great care to not even ruffle the sheets.
Whereas he will just haul himself up, flip over, and come crashing back down like there's no one else around.
It's maddening.
And I will hiss at him, "BE CAREFUL! If you wake her, I swear you are taking her."

Not that I don't want you, dear.
But I work hard to get your little heiney to sleep at night and I don't think he often realizes HOW hard I work at it because he's usually snoring :)

This is also on my mind to make sure to tell you because I'm anxious to see what happens for sure but...
Darling, you've had the WORST baby hair EVER around here.
I didn't quite know what was going on at first but it would just literally stand on end, sticking straight up in the air.
But that was because it wasn't quite long enough to CURL yet!

All of this new hair you have is coming in as super, super curly--are you going to have wild ringlets???
Greer has naturally curly hair as well which is just BEYOND strange to me because mine has always been so poker straight, especially as a young girl.
But Greer had curls when she was tiny and they sort of went away for a bit, re-emerging now as beautiful waves on top and tight little ringlets underneath.
I think you're going to be the same way but curlier!

Your eyes are blue FOR SURE.
I know "they say" that eye color takes six months to fully develop but it's quite obvious that you have those Martin blues, just like three of your other siblings!

And you're growing like a weed.
I think you're in the midst of a really big growth spurt right now.
You're appetite has picked up, you've definitely called up more milk reserves, and when you sit up, you have the beginning of chubby cheeks.
I use that term lightly because you will probably never have what most people would consider any bit of baby chubbiness but for YOU, (and me and Chas and Greer) it's about the best you're going to get.
(Though I do hope you'll grow a bit of cellulite. I LOVE baby fat. Thighs and tushies are my WAY fave.)

Love you, love you.

Mama

You--Five Weeks, Four Days

2010-08-13T13:59:00.000-04:00

Now that you're all settled in here and have firmly entrenched yourself into our hearts (and my bed), this is who you are to us:

Luxe
Luxie
Luxilicious
Luxer
Luxie Laaaady (this is sung)
Luxie Baby
Luxie Loo
Luxerella

I had no idea when chooing your name that it would have so many wonderful variants!

You're also known as:

"Hey, gorg."
"Sweet baby girl."
"You. Are . The. Cutest. Baby, EV-ER!"
"Sister Sledge" (thanks lynnie)
"Baby Lover"
"Hey, Love"
"Mama's Girl"

It's safe to say that you're the most nickname-able baby we've had so far.

Did you notice that "so far?" :)

Must run.
You've vomited precious breastmilk all over yourself and your dad is going to have a conniption if I don't get us to the bank ASAP.
You kids are pricy!

Love,
Mama
(who loves you and all your fantastic names)

You--Five Weeks

2010-08-09T18:31:00.001-04:00

We had a marathon show-down last night with you pretty much refusing to sleep from about 6:00pm until 1:00am.
I think you just became overly tired and once you were there, you couldn't settle.
I tried and tried to get you to sleep and would be successful but once I put you down on your own, that was it for you...and we'd start all over again.

The reason I can write this and am not sobbing away is because it didn't happen over-night.
I stuck it out all evening long, even rather happily at the end as I could see you fading away finally, and chuckled, "Booooy, are we gonna sleep tonight!"
(And we did--right on through til dawn. You rock, sister.)

You're winning the house over with your sweet grins.
Everyone thinks they're special, just for them, but secretly I know you're just daydreaming about me ;)
Chas keeps saying how much he's looking forward to your soon-coming laughs.
"That's my very favorite stage!" he said with a huge smile.
Mine, too.

I had forgotten how crowd-stopping a new baby could be but you've reminded me.
People just LOVE babies and everywhere we go, there are ooglers and baby lovers.
It's been said that infants are chick magnets and I'd have to agree.
Every time I step away from your daddy, he's swarmed by ladies doused in perfume.
(I can't stand the smell of another woman on my baby. Even someone I know and love, like Memaw. It masks your sweet baby smell and I need that. I CRAVE that.)

And I also had forgotten how uncomfortable public nursing makes other men.
Our waiter the other day, a young guy, nearly threw my plate at me from across the table once he realized that you were suctioned to my chest.
He couldn't see anything but just knowing what was going on seemed to make him go all hyper-weird on me.
Deal with it boys, is what I have to say.
The boobs are back.

We've been out all day, over at Jenny's and once again you proved what a SuperBaby you are!
I'm not used to this being so dang easy--I was really thinking I'd be so wild from trying to get through the day that I'd missing chunks of hair by now.

Speaking of that...I will be losing chunks of hair soon.
My body is slowly but surely returning to The Old Me state and while this happens there are all sorts of side effects.

My hair, which will begin to fall out in the next few months from hormonal insanity, is suddenly curlyish.
This might not seem unusual unless you know me and know that my hair is typically so straight, I can't even curl it when I want to.

This isn't the first time it's happened-- it now seems to be a regular Weird Moment in terms of my postpartumness.
With Creux (but Creux only) my shoe size changed permanently, going from a six and a half, which I'd worn since middle school, to a seven.
I always thought that was a old wives tale but nope.
And I've got the sevens to prove it!

The line on my belly is starting to fade and as it does, I start to miss being pregnant a little.
I know that sounds crazy as I was so very desperate to be done there at the end but it sort of tugs at my heart to watch these little pieces of our "past" together evaporate.

I'm losing about a pound a week or so which is good.
Right there after I had you, I dropped nearly ten pounds in fluid (GOOD GRIEF!) plus all of your weight but I still have a nice little chunk to go.
It's important that I don't lose too much too fast as my appetite has gone bye-bye but for health reasons, I need to make sure I'm getting enough calories and not short-changing either of us.
I don't know what it is but I am simply ravenous while pregnant and literally as soon as I deliver, it's like my appetite goes with it.
All that being said, I'm rather excited to see my skinny jeans again and though it will be awhile, it will be a nice little heartfelt reunion :)

You're five weeks old today.
You are the tiniest little light of my life.
I can't imagine even a day without you in my arms.

I love you so very, very much.

Love,
Mama

You--Four Weeks, Six Days

2010-08-08T10:41:00.000-04:00

I went shopping for you the other day--my first time out buying things for "you" and not "mystery baby you."
I remember with Greer thinking...wait, what's my girl style?
I mean, what do I like baby girls in?
I'd just been in boy mode for eight years and whenever I shopped for friends who had baby girls, I always bought gorgeously impractical dresses.
But everyday wear?
I had no idea.

I figured things out quick but for you, I'm a bit less In The Pink Box.
EVERYTHING Greer wore was pink.
And pretty girly.

But we're not really a super girly family, I've come to realize.
Even your names aren't terribly girly.
Memaw dropped a few comments here and there pre-your birth-- "Pick a pretty name," she'd say.
She thought you were a girl all along.
And she said this twice that I can remember (though it was probably more--I am just really super good at tuning her out. Don't grow up and do this to me, however. Besides, I'm difficult to ignore. I really am.) because she likes names like "Alexandra" and "Adrianna"...those types of names.
I started liking your name right around this time (which is also a boy name, by the way) and would just snicker to myself.
I know my style. Memaw, not so much.

Anyway, I found this shirt that I would NEVER have gotten for Greer back when she was a babe because it's less feminine and more hip.
It's a play on "AC/DC", the rock band.
But the shirt says "AB/CD" and has a guitar on the front.
I thought it was so cute!
But it's did sort of occur to me that though you and Greer look a lot alike, already you're parented differently.
My guess is that you'll be a bit more rough and tumble because we'll be more open to that for you.
With her, I was so desperate for some girl stuff and girl moments and pink, pink, pink, and to finally have a daughter that it took me some time to really let her be her.
But now we know her.
She's girly with grit.
And I think that's a beautiful combination.
Whoever you are, whatever combination you choose, I know I'll say the same thing.

It's morning here now and we just came downstairs, me and you.
We usually are the last two out of bed (not counting Chas who is in full-on teen mode these days) and we met Creux in the hallway.
He was going on and on about wanting his clothes and someone waiting for him before going outside and he was absolutely screaming his words at top Creux volume which is positively ear-shattering.
And I spoke softly to him, trying to bring him down 875 notches without harping on him, and when I looked at you, cradled in my arms, you were smiling up at me.

One of the very best things in the whole wide world is to be able to make someone beam from (tiny, adorable) ear to (tiny, adorable) ear just from the sound of your voice.

Thanks for starting my day off so sweetly.

Love,
Mama

You--Four Weeks, Five Days

2010-08-08T10:22:00.001-04:00

This morning at breakfast (mine--you had like three between the hours of 5am and 10) I noticed that you seemed so babyish.
Unlike so "newbornish."
You're changing literally every day and while I delight in all the subtle differences, I still yearn for that delicious bit of super new you.

And the truth is that even in one short month, you're not super new anymore.
We have a "way" together these days, patterns that are already familiar and expected.
I don't stare at you in curious awe like I did just a few weeks back; now I stare in order to catalogue and appreciate the new differences.
I was looking at your newborn photos the other day and then looking at you and thinking...damn, this goes so fast.

But you are simply a JOY!
I know I say this in every post but you're just so stinkin' good!
You've been on two "dates" so far--one to lunch where I nursed you the whole time and you slept and then a dinner where you slept in your carseat.
Getting out and around is not nearly as difficult as I had anticipated and I think most of that is due to your easy-going personality.
The rest is a combination of the "it is what it is" attitude that I have adopted where I expect EVERYTHING to be an ordeal and when it isn't, I'm pleasantly surprised and also the fact that Creux has really pulled his crazy insane self together and no longer makes me want to throw a bag in the car and drive non-stop to Arizona without looking back.

You've had a few rough nights and I wonder if we're in the midst of another growth spurt?
Earlier this week, I nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed you (that's FIVE nursings) in a three hour long marathon and finally got you to sleep but then you just snapped awake beside me.
And wanted to nurse.
I couldn't do it.
And I knew you weren't hungry--I was wondering at that point if you had a tummyache from OVER-eating.
I passed you off to Daddy, thinking if he just paced with you a bit that you'd fall asleep and all would be well.

I woke two hours later wondering where you two were.
I found you snuggled on the couch together, fast asleep.
It wasn't until the morning that he told me that you'd screamed for an hour and in desperation he finally went to the car where he knew there was an infant paci from the hospital (why did we have this?) and gave you that.
He said you gagged and spit it out repeatedly but finally realized you could suck it and that was all you needed to do.
I felt terrible about that.
I could have nursed you again but I was tired and touched out and just plain old didn't want to.
We don't do pacis--we do mama.
And that won't happen again.
I know sometimes you need to suck for comfort and I don't want to pass you off to a pacifier.
I just don't.

****I started this post 24 hours ago when I thought I could sneak 15 minutes or so alone.
And I can't.
I just can't.
Someone always interrupts me, needs me, wants me, just needs to SEE me, just needs to HEAR me, just wants to know WHAT AM I DOING IN THERE?
(The only place that I can get even a scrap of privacy is in the bathroom. So I take my Netbook and sit on the rug and write to you. It's not ideal and it's NOT comfortable and obviously it doesn't even work half the time.)

So, for the time being, I'm changing the format of this blog for you.
My posts will be shorter and more frequent.
I might not be able to find 15 minutes but I can find 5!

(Can't I? Can't I find five? Oh please let me find five minutes of pure quiet in this house where I can think private thoughts and write private words. If I have to stick this request on my Christmas Wish List in order to get it, I'm moving out.)

Four Weeks

2010-08-02T22:49:00.000-04:00

I don't have long because I can hear you yowling downstairs.
I'm locked in my bathroom where no one can find me.
The extremes I go to just to find a bit of quiet around here...(and let me just say that this floor is not cushy.)

A whole month you've been around.
A MONTH!
Looking back at this day a month ago, we were just snuggled into bed together--our first night.
I remember it so clearly, remember constantly looking over at you, and feeling so lucky.
Everything had worked out in the end and boy, am I EVER so glad we walked out of that hospital and into our nest.
I'll admit it was slightly unsettling, maybe because even I've never known anyone to just...leave...a hospital before (and I faced a firing squad of white coats too AND a super fun phone call from the neonatalogist--all hell-bent on beating it in to me just how stupid and crazy they thought I was) but...it was the right thing to do for us.

Already you are so different to me, so much less this new bundle of flesh and now just more my baby.
My daughter.
You smile every day.
I can already hear the giggles that will soon come, the deep baby belly laughs that crack me up and still bring tears to my eyes because they're just so damn sweet.
As are you.
SO sweet.

You...
have twice slept from 1:00-7:00am
are achingly adorable in your bathtub--like a little wet kitten
suddenly have curls galore at the back bottom of your hair
are now outside my door mewling for me
still like to be swaddled
sometimes sleep alone
are getting louder
tolerate the swing--and your siblings
are a two-boob girl these days, no more onesies
now have tears
are killing me with your cries so I must go.

Love,
Mama

P.S...this is pretty much indicative of the time I have "free" in the evenings.
I don't.
You are a cluster feeder and need/want me constantly during these pre-nighttime hours.
Despite hogging any "me time" that was once available to me, I still love you, you little Time-Sucker :)

You--Three Weeks, Four Days

2010-07-30T22:01:00.000-04:00

You're laying beside me in bed and you're supposed to be sleeping but you're not.
You were but then I put you down and surprise, surprise--you're now wide awake.

Despite this minor setback, you're doing much better sleeping alone, at least today you were.
I managed to sneak away TWICE--once this morning and once this afternoon and the house is much better for it, let me tell you.

Things are starting to feel...normal now.
I'm up more and able to rejoin my family and you seem to be settling into a routine of sorts.
Or at least you seem less unpredictable to me.
I'm starting to think about things other than finding sleep so I know we're making terrific progress!
(Though I must say, you are a terrific sleeper. Words can not even describe how wonderful it is to not be up endlessly at night. You usually go down for the night around midnight and wake some time between 4 and 5am. Then you're up eating for about 45 minutes and down for another two to three hours. I'm so sleep deprived from our pregnancy and just the whole new baby bit that I'm still dragging some times but it could be so, so, SO much worse. Thank you, Chill Baby.)

You're a whopping seven pounds and two ounces these days!
It's always such a proud feeling when you babies take off and start growing so healthy and strong on MY milk.
The milk I SLAVE over.
Only kidding--really, you're doing me a favor as all that milk making burns off all those stupid ice cream runs you wanted throughout the WHOLE pregnancy.

I took you in to meet our baby doc yesterday because you'd developed a sniffle and it freaked me out.
I'm not a freaker-outer, mind you.
But you're so tiny and I love you so much that you're sudden clogged nose (which made it hard for you to breath) about drove me insane with worry.
I needed to take you in anyway and get the "yeah, she's perfect" from Dr. Carine (which we got) so it worked out.
And in the end, you just had a stuffy nose.
No exotic baby disease like I had imagined.

Like your brother, you will not be receiving any of the routine vaccinations so I currently have no plans to return with you; in fact, I hope that we do not see Dr. Carine for a long time.
We only head in these days if something is bothering someone--if one of you all gets sick or needs something.
Since we don't follow the vax schedule (which is partly why babies are seen so frequently at the beginning) and since I really don't have many questions (which is the other reason why babies are seen so frequently at the beginning) we just roll on along!

You're smiling a lot all of sudden!
You've been smiling all along actually, from right there at the beginning to now though these smiles definitely seem more focused and deliberate.
You'll listen really closely and carefully to who ever is talking to you and then...you'll slowly start to smile until it's a full-on beam.
It's a brief thing but sometimes you'll smile more than once in a "conversation."
The reaction you get from family members is profound adoration.
We're sick with love over here, every one of us.

I think you might be a blondie which might sound surprising considering you have almost a full head of brown hair right now.
But the new stuff growing in is so light and blond and so are your teeny tiny eyelashes.
I'm excited to see who you will grow into.

Creux sings to you every day.
My favorite is "Frinkle, Frinkle, Wit-tle Star."
And "Mary Had A Wit-tle Wamb" which he just repeats over and over again endlessly.
(Along with the line, "And everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went." We never learn where exactly Mary goes but she goes and goes and goes, I can say that much.)

You love your baths--Daddy gives them to you as he's done all of your siblings.
Mama doesn't interfere with bath time.
I've always loved that he has something special that he does with you kids all on his own.
He just brings you to me when you're done, all clean and snug and ready for a final nighttime nursing.

You're just a good, good fit with this family and I know I say it a lot but you're such an easy little one.
My plate is a full one and it's not enough to just "get along" here at home.
There are balls I can drop in my life but being a good mama isn't one of them and the fact that you are so "chill" makes my very big job a whole lot easier.

I'm still not sure how I'll do it all but I'm optimistic that we'll get it figured out.
(We have to, right?)
I'm hoping that by the time we add in school and soccer and dance and preschool and co-op and all the other misc. stuff that we do as a family that we'll be in a really good place together.
We've got about a month to go.

But I'm not rushing it along--not at all.
I'm still trying to steal some hours with you in the nest here and there through the day.
We're both really lucky to have had the kind of help that we've had over the last three weeks (because I can honestly say that neither Greer nor Creux had the kind of time with me at the beginning that you've had) and maybe even MORE lucky that there's a super big brother in the house who can kind of hold down the fort so we can snuggle a bit longer or nap together or so that later, when I start running crazy all over the city shuffling your sibs here and there, you can stay back and nap if my errand is short.
You will not grow up in the car the same way that Greer and Creux have and that makes me really happy.

I'm still trying to write "The Night You Weren't Born" which precedes "The Day You Were" but I have NO time for the kind of writing required for such an important post. (Nor do I seem to have the brain power needed to construct grammatically correct sentences.)

I'll get it up. It's just going to take me awhile.

In the time it's taken me to write this (an hour now as I had to stop and settle you because you got tired of staring at the ceiling fan finally and then I put the Littles to bed) you're back to sleep, compliments of Daddy's hallway pacing.

I can't wait to climb in next to you, my sweet little barnacle.
Be there soon.

Love,
Mama

You--Three Weeks

2010-07-26T00:43:00.000-04:00

You're sleeping on the couch, snuggled up for the moment with your daddy, who has fallen asleep there for the time being.
I came upstairs only to get myself ready for bed while you were peaceful but then decided to take a minute and update this for you.

You'll be three weeks old in the morning.
And every week, you're different

I mentioned to daddy earlier this week that we no longer cap you with those sweet little newborn hats.
That was one of my favorite things about your first few days.
Those little caps absolutely scream Fresh Baby and so I find them to be sorely missing in our accessories department suddenly.

You're fast growing out of all of the muted-colored sleeping gowns that I bought especially for you.
Your tiny feet are starting to dangle out of the bottom.

That horrid pattern of "good night, heinous night" left when I asked that it leave.
Thank you for that.
You're sleeping magnificently at night, giving me a good three to four hour stretch and though I'm still sacked in the morning, it's the best I can hope for with you being so small still.
You spend the whole late evening, from about 9:00pm until midnight cluster feeding, with me nursing every hour or so, until we're both ready for bed.
Frankly, this is my least favorite round of nursing but I do enjoy the time spent alone in bed with you and this is your way of gearing up for the nighttime stretch of slumber so I really can't complain.

My only real complaint is that you're a light sleeper and are very easily awoken.
We have to be really, really quiet in our bedroom when you're snoozing there otherwise you'll wake up and guess who you want DESPERATELY when you do?

A few times you've caught your thumb, seemingly by accident and the way you would suck it seemed so awkward. You'd manage to get the thumb in your mouth but you'd keep the rest of your hand wide open. Tonight though, you sucked it for real and soothed yourself to sleep while Lynn held you.
I was SWOONING ridiculously, I just thought you were so sweet and cute and it was perhaps the most precious thing any of our babies has ever done.
We've never had a thumb sucker before and while I dread dealing with it later if it sticks as a habit, I simply find it adorable right now.
And it's made me wonder if maybe you and your thumb had met before, possibly in the womb?

Speaking of that, I'm quite certain that you've showed me your preferred womb position and it's also the most awkward looking thing! I went to change your diaper the other day and you folded yourself up so comfortably but it was wild to see because it just looked so uncomfortable. You were laying on your back and you twisted your legs up Indian-style but with your feet up high on your knees. It just seemed like second nature to you and you did it so quickly that I thought...I bet that's how you spent your time inside me.

I love sleeping with you.
I had thought that maybe we'd buy one of those pack-and-play type cribs that allow co-sleeping by attaching to the bed but I can't do it.
I don't want to sleep beside you, I want to sleep with you.
You and I snuggle all night long.
You're either sleeping on my tummy or I lay you down next to me and we curl up together. You'll naturally turn in my direction and I'll literally wrap my body around yours, cupping you.
We sleep head to head, chest to chest.
It's...intoxicating to me.
I feel your sweet little breath on my face and the warmth of your tiny body and I just am overcome with love for you and know for certain that neither of us are ready or wanting any nighttime separation right now.

You are a wonderous baby, for sure my Chill Gal, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for your easy-going disposition.
You only yowl when hungry or tired and both of those things are very easily resolved.
You have quite a temper however and it's rather amusing to me when you really get going, while I'm changing your diaper or your clothes and you're simply wanting a feeding, and you get so pissed that you turn this wicked purple color and you are screaming so loud and with such gusto that your tiny little tongue is just curled up right inside the perfect "o" of your mouth.
It makes me laugh and then I can't help but smother your little pissed-off self with kisses.

I'm going to get ready for bed and then snatch you off the couch and whisk you off to bed with me.
I can't wait to snuggle with you.

Love,
Mama

You--Two Weeks

2010-07-19T17:04:00.001-04:00

Two weeks!
Already? And yet...is that all?
It feels like you've been here for ages on one hand and on another, it's been about a minute.

You're sleeping peacefully now which is how I've managed to sneak down to the computer without you screeching for me to come back.

You're a little bit of a mama-addict currently.
All Mama, All The Time.
It's endearing yet maddening.
I need to do things like brush my teeth and gee, I don't know...eat.
Your mama radar is off the chain, child, as you seem to sense the minute I leave your side.
Most times.
But this time, I got away! :)

Today has been my first day home alone all day long with the five of you.
It's been a juggling act, to put it lightly, but I'm alive and so are you and your siblings so the day is chalked up as a success in the end.
Is it sad that my standards are at that point?
Reality, baby.

Let me tell you about you...

You have this torturous sleep pattern right now--good night, heinous night, good night, heinous night.
I'm not sure what that is all about but I hate it A LOT and would like to eliminate the "heinous night" from the routine ASAP.

You no longer make a total mess of us when eating. My milk letdown is no match for you now--you have conquered Mt. McBooby. I was drowning you for awhile and you'd just give up and look at me while milk sprayed all over the both of us but not any more. You're a milk champ, not a chump. And I no longer have to change my clothes after every feeding.

Your favorite way to sleep is on my tummy and I have to admit that I love it, too.
It makes me think that it reminds you of "Home" because you are so peaceful there against my warm body, listening to my heart beating and feeling me breathing.
I'll nurse you until you fall asleep and let go and then slide you down to my belly and you just sigh and snuggle into me.
I hold you all night long.
It's the most fantastic of things in my life right now.

You have your first diaper rash and it's not my fault.
You poop like ALL the time; I can't keep up with you!
I'm sorry about the rash--we're working on it.

You're also really flaky these days; I noticed it this morning.
Your feet were peeling over the weekend but today it's on your tiny belly.
Are you molting???
I'll warm some olive oil tonight and give you a massage.
You're two weeks old--you deserve it.

You're awake much more than just a week ago but are still in that newborny coma state.
Part of me wishes I'd have used the time to get done some of the things that I need to get done.
But I know I've used the time in the best way possible.
I want you to know that for these past two weeks, I have tried to devote every minute to you that I could, pulling on Emily and Daddy to run the house and everyone else.
I won't be able to do this much longer; in fact, the amount of time we've nested today has been incomparable to the amount in a "normal" day since you've been born.
But it's been important to me to give you as much of me as I could here in the beginning.
You're going to have to learn to share and you're going to have to learn it quick but I have loved every minute of our "babymoon" together.
I will cherish those days and that's not something I'm just writing because it sounds good.
I will truly cherish the time we spent up there together in near solitude--it was really special to me.

I've logged incountable hours staring at you, memorizing your every bit, your every tiny piece.
You have your Daddy's ears--all you kids do.
I think you will have blue eyes as well.
I was hoping for my greens but I think he's trumped me again.
They'll be beautiful no matter what color they are.

Though you have a full head of dark hair, there are bits of blond coming in.
Everyone but Chas has been born with dark hair, only to have it fall out and return very light in color.
Your hair is jacked, sweet girl.
Chas says it "looks like Dad's but with a mullet."
I wanted to trim you straight away after that comment but I've let your cute little Daddy Mullet be for now.
You and I suffer from Bed Head Syndrome though I have to say that yours is WAY worse than mine.
We wake up in the morning and I say, "Good morning, sweet girl...YIKES, your hair is a disaster!"

You have mere wisps of eyebrows and eensy weensy eyelashes.
I think they are the most adorable things I've ever seen.

You are identical, and I mean identical, to your sister as an infant.
I will not be able to tell your baby photos apart in years to come.

I'm loving having a baby in the house again.
I do miss some of my "available" time where I don't have a wee barnacle attached to me constantly but I wouldn't trade a second of it for the world.
I love you so much already--it's like you've been mine all along.

Happy Two Weeks!

Love,
Mama

You--One Week, 2 Days

2010-07-14T22:23:00.000-04:00

I can't write to you if you don't let me go at some point in the day.
Do you want these entries or not, sister?

Playing catch-up here because I'm also working on your Birth Story and it's taking me AGES because every time I sit down to write, you call me back upstairs to feed!

You...
are sleeping magnificently at night--5-6 hour stretches
are a hellbeast during the day because you're starved from the night
have lost your umbilical cord stump
just had your first "big girl" bath
are currently screaming for me
AGAIN!

You...
might be a thumb-sucker
had a really, really bad hair day today
have a clogged tear duct in your right eye
are a pooping machine
and I snuggled today most deliciously--curled right up into each other
have gone quiet for the last minute and now I'm wondering if you've fallen asleep or have accidentally smothered yourself.

You...
seem like my Chill Baby, despite your wicked little temper
(Daddy says you have my coping skills and I'd have to agree.)
are screaming again.

Sigh.

Am just one big boob to you, aren't I?

Love,
Mama
(who would write more but you now sound really very serious about being picked up IMMEDIATELY)

You--Day Six

2010-07-11T13:09:00.000-04:00

Okay, I'm starting to clue-in.
It has nothing to do with coffee and everything to do with stipulations.
And I think it goes a little something like this:

If no one is in the bed, or if just one of us is there, you can and will happily sleep on your own.
It also doesn't hurt that the sun is shining bright when means it isn't bedtime.
But...if both Mama and Daddy are in that bed and it is dark meaning we should ALL be happily sleeping, then someone is holding your Diva tush, yes?
Because if not, no one is sleeping.

Am I right?
Thank God I think I figured that out because I really miss my evening coffees.

Last night was a huge improvement over the last two.
I've learned NOT to wake you before I go to bed, even though logic tells me, too so I can "fill you up" before turning in myself.
But it waaaaaay backfires.
Right now, if I just let you sleep peacefully, I can maybe squeak in an hour or two before you wake on your own.
Unfortunately for me, this hour or two has typically been the best sleep I've had over the course of the week but last night was redeeming!

I don't know how much I slept in chunks but I'm guessing I got in a good two hour one and MAYBE a three hour at some point in the dawn time period.
All I know is that I feel human today.
I'm happy.
I'm showered and sort of dressed.
(I was fully dressed but, of course, you needed fed and I'm still sweating like a 45 year-old fat man so I whipped my shirt off but the good news is: MY ANKLES ARE BACK!!!! I sweated off my cankles! HURRAY!!)

We're going to attempt errands today.
Again.
There was a rather botched try yesterday as I ended up venturing out on my own with you to the baby store, only to arrive and feel not only like you are WAY too tiny to be out in public (you are SO SMALL!) but then to also realize that you worked up a hunger on the way from our house to the store.
AND I forgot my checking card.
So we headed back out to the car, nursed in the parking lot, and then headed home, empty-handed and exhausted.

Do you know what you've done twice now?
Smiled at me!
Yesterday when I went to take you out of your car seat, you were awake and I started cooing at you, just talking to you and you turned to me and listened...and then broke into a huge gumless grin.
I almost collapsed in the parking lot, so over-come with new mommy loooooove for you.
It was fleeting but it was there.
I do not care what baby books say, and they do say that you are unable to smile for awhile yet and that if you do, it's because you're dealing with very ungirly bodily functions, which is a load of crap if you ask me.
You smiled.
If other babies can't do it, that's their problem.
MY baby is clearly a Happiness Genius.

You're getting your PKU test today.
There's a lady coming over this afternoon to stick you.
It won't be so bad, I promise.
But all of this has been really nice for us--we've had two exams AND now a PKU test to be done and we haven't had to go anywhere!
You and I will be popping by the pediatrician at some point in the coming weeks but since we're not routinely vaccinating you, there's no rush.
We'll have several more exams with the midwives at 2, 4 and 6 weeks post-partum so we're keeping tabs on you, making sure you're growing healthy and strong.
(You are. Already. Sniff.)

As for me, like I said, sweating crazy, cankles have gone bye-bye, every day I feel a bit more like my old self.
Dressing sucks, as maternity clothes (tops) are way too big now and non-maternity stuff is almost too small.
You and I both are wearing like the same six things in rotation because we have "fitting issues", we do.
I changed my clothes like nine times yesterday just to go to the store.
("Honey, you just had a baby six days ago," Daddy said, watching me try and try and try and discard, discard, discard nine different shirts.
"FIVE!" I snapped. He doesn't need to be adding my days wrong. I just might look a little better on day six than I would on day five :))
Anyway, you'll grow and I'll shrink and we should both look smashing by November.

Off to discover why this house is so amazingly quiet...

Love,
Mama

You--Day Five

2010-07-10T14:00:00.000-04:00

Last night started so well! I had such high hopes for a good night's sleep.
We kept you up.
I fed you well.
And you slept fine for the hour that we watched t.v in bed.
But as soon as I clicked my light off, anticipating a good three hours of snooze time, you woke up.
And you were pissed.

I fed you, you pooped, we changed you, I fed you.
You drifted off and I set you down beside me.
Within 20 minutes, you were up and wailing and slapping me about.
I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you.
You drifted off and I set you down beside me.
Within 20 minutes, you were up and wailing and slapping me about.
I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you.

I watched the clock turn from 2:20 to 5:00am.
By the last "I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you" routine, I woke your Daddy.

"I've had enough, " I said. "I can do no more."

I handed you off, happy that SOMEHOW he had slept through your three hour long bitch-fest and I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on my hair dryer.
The hair dryer, by the way, has secret Mommy Healing Powers, and is used in extreme cases of duress.
When I need quiet, I'll sit on my bathroom floor with the door locked and flip it on.
I can't hear a thing.
Your brothers know to turn and run when the hair dryer is running and Mommy is not answering.
The Littles are learning--unless they've suddenly chopped their arms off and are going to die in the next ten minutes, I am not to be bothered.
Chas or Daddy can fill in until I have received all Hair Dryer Healing Power and can open the door and be friendly.
And sane.

So last night, if you were crying, it was out of my ear-reach and being handled by another fully capable (albeit boobless) human being.

I emerged at 5:30 to silence.
A quick peek in the bed proved that Daddy is indeed fully capable (yet still boobless) of soothing your tears.
You were nestled against him, sort of sitting up, with your little cap all jacked to the side like a wee bitty gangsta, and you were, thank the Lord, sleeping.

I think this was my fault, by the way, though I'd really like to just blame you for being a She-Devil.
Yesterday evening, I was feeling...normal...so I was up and around downstairs.
I took you outside around 8:00 and sat on the swing with you.
Daddy brought me a coffee.
And I think that was our problem.

But strangely, a morning coffee does not seem to bother you so I don't understand why the night-time one would produce such...fury.
It doesn't matter, I won't be making THAT mistake again.

I'll have decaf :)

Somehow between 5:30 and 11:00 this morning, I cluster-napped enough to finally get moving.
An 11:00 wake-up is not really feasable come Monday so we're going to have to do better on our nights together.
(And didn't I just say you were a wonderous sleeper? Perhaps there's room for interpretation in the word "wonderous" and it ain't all good, sister...)

Already you're bucking the swaddle.
You want your hands free so you can slap me with them :)

You've had and lost a sweet little sucking blister.

Oh, and that reminds me.
You're a SLOPPY eater!
You get my milk going and then you're like, "Oh wait, not sure if I really am hungry after all..." meanwhile I'm soaking me and you and end up needing outfit changes in the middle of the night.
Grrrr.

And yet, I still find you adorable and had not started searching for your "gift receipt" ticket.
The one where I take you to the stork and I say, "This one doesn't fit well. I'd like it in a new personality, please."

You're sort of "moving in" this weekend, in fact!
All of the baby things we didn't want to haul out beforehand are about to be hauled out.
Two baby swings, one for the family room and one for the schooling room.
Two bouncy seats, one for downstairs and one for upstairs.
I'm in need of a monitor because I'm convinced that you will shatter into a million pieces if you call for me and I don't hear you.

You're also joining the world this weekend.
I'm considering my first outing since Monday--a trip to the baby store to check on a few things.
Thinking of a co-sleeper for you, one that attaches to our bed and keeps you right by me but will also morph into a pack-n-play for later on.
And a new little bathtub--I've seen these ones that are like a bucket and seem very cozy; I think you'd fit quite nicely in there for...well, for ages, considering you're the size of a bag of potato chips.

Must run, you call.

Love,
Mama

You--Day Four

2010-07-09T12:35:00.000-04:00

Hmm.
Okay, here's the thing.
The marvelous I'm-A-Super-Baby-Look-At-Me-Sleep! stretch can not occur from 9pm-2am.
Mama does not, can not, go to bed at 9:00 with you.
Good grief, girl, we're still trying to wrangle toddler legs into jammies and reading "Goldilicious" for the 976th time right then!

So that's what you did last night and though I wanted to wake you at midnight when I was ready for bed, I'm glad I didn't because from midnight to 2:00 was the longest stretch of sleep I had.
Once you woke, you were ravenous.
And since you'd missed a few feeds, you couldn't sleep another marvelous super baby stretch so we were up every hour/hour and a half snacking.

I looked like a zombie this morning and that ain't no joke, sister.
In fact, I think I even had dred locks in my hair.
It was that bad.

But today I'm up and feeling better.
Jenny and her gang are coming for a second visit as their first, on your first whole day home, was botched by an arrival from midwife Abby to check us out, then an appearance by Memaw, and an unexpected visit from Grandpa and Cookie.
ALL AT THE SAME TIME!
It was a mad-house!
So their visit was cut short and they're coming back in just a bit to get some good Luxie Lovin' all to themselves.

I have to say that while I am feeling better, my hormones are off the chain right now.
The night my milk came in, I was swinging wildly from sweating to being so chilled I was wrapped in a robe, then wrapped in a towel over that.
I knew I had pregnancy hormones leaving and milk-making hormones arriving and even now, I'm a disaster.
I sweat.
I hate to sweat.
But I have all this extra pregnancy fluid to lose and so I'm stuck with it right now.
(The injustices never end.)

Worse, I'm really short-tempered.
Like really short-tempered.
And I hate that because my other kids don't see me much so I don't want to be a horrid scary monster of a mommy when they do.
I feel like one of the most important un-spoken requests between child and parent is that for patience.
And now I find myself doing the asking.

Waking you to feed and diaper so you'll be ready to dazzle your new best friends.

Love,
Mama

You--Day Three

2010-07-08T22:44:00.000-04:00

I'm so behind in Your Story but I have to just jump in here or I never will.
I'll catch up later.

You're here!
And oh my, you are better than imagined.
Though I'm STILL trying to figure out how you're only a very scrawny six pounds.
And here I thought we'd be pushing at least nine!

Interestingly, both Daddy and I love your tinyness.
He said the other day, "I've missed this. These tiny ones."
As you well know by now, Creux came out looking like a toddler so it's been very sweet to have itty bitty you around.

And you're a GIRL!
Haha!
Oh, it's so thrilling to me, another daughter.
Truly, I didn't care as I knew Creux would be super delighted by an ornery little sidekick and we're a good family for little boys but my heart just saaaaang when I finally held you, knowing finally who you were.

I remember with Greer, I felt this overwhelming gratitude of "getting a girl" because I sort of believed in my heart that I'd have a family of four little boys.
But I didn't feel that with you.
Your gender, oddly, was removed from the situation and perhaps it was because it was such a dramatic, high emotion delivery.
Honestly, once you were in my arms, I do remember Daddy announcing your gender but I could not have cared less in that moment.
I was just so grateful that you were there, safely, perfect as could be, breathing fine, crying hard, needing mama.
Plus, I was so grateful that the wicked nurse on my right was soon to vanish.
(HORRID woman. I'll give you all the juicy gossip later.)

All that being said, HOLY PINK!
There is pink just pouring into this house and it is wonderful!

You are an amazing baby.
You sleep great, going 4-5 hours at night which I REALLY appreciate.
You are so pleasant--though you aren't afraid to speak up and be unpleasant.
I love that in a girl.

As far as eating goes, you are a "snacker."
You like to have one breast and then a small nap.
Then a few yowls and the other.
Then a big nap.
This is a big change for me as the last time I did this, I felt like Creux came out with a fork, a knife and a bib, ready for the chowdown of his life.
EVERY TWO HOURS.
But you?
You're a sipper, so easy to please.

In the short while you've been here, you've learned a few things.
It took you a day but I finally managed to convince you that the boobs were your friends.
Now you're a little bit of an addict but that's okay.

Not only that but you've learned that I will give you comfort AND food, both found in the same place--my arms.
(Okay, and my chest.)
Daddy can be holding you and you'll be squawking a bit and when I speak from across the room, you'll turn in my direction and open your tiny mouth, like a baby bird, rooting for me.
I can't get into bed fast enough!

You snore.
And this might be one of my favorite things about you.
Last night, both Daddy AND you were snoring away and I couldn't sleep a bit!
I must admit that I find your snoring charming and his quite irritating--too bad for him, huh?

You've had two home exams so far and appear to be doing marvelously.
Your lungs are clear, heart sounds good.
A touch of jaundice but that's all.

As for me...

My "birth high" wore off today and I crashed hard.
The past two days have been like a party in our nest--I've felt so good!
But I struggled last night sleeping--my milk had come in and it came in a big way, enough for that ten pound baby I was expecting.
And you, you were only interested in snacking so I went to bed in a fair amount of misery but miraculously over-night, my body adjusted and I felt much better today.

I haven't slept in so long though.
Not only was my sleep bad when pregnant with you but the whole last weekend, long after my water broke, my days began between 5 and 7am and were incredibly stressful, ending past midnight.
(Um, with NO BABY.)
And THEN I had a baby!
It's been a draining week, to say the least.

So today, I was almost drugged with fatigue and you and I snuggled all afternoon long.

I was able to spend some of my time watching you sleep and while I did, you would occasionally stir.
And in those stirrings, do you know what I saw?
I saw all of the movements you made in-utero, the little leg extensions and the slight squirms that were such a mystery to me back then.
I could see them today and could recognize the movements, knew what they felt like "on the inside."
I'll be sad when I no longer can, when your movements are all new, and when my pregnancy is just a distant memory.

But for now, I am so glad you're here.
We all are--this entire house is crazy for you.
I've been careful to keep that loving kind of crazy at bay as much as possible but someone is ALWAYS at my door looking to see if you're up or if I'll let them climb into bed and hold you.

Loved, loved, loved.

Welcome home, baby Luxe.
We've been "expecting" you :)

Love,
Mama

3:54pm

2010-07-05T16:03:00.000-04:00

Nothing went as planned, as my lack of posts would likely indicate.
I will tell your story at another time.

Your name is Luxe Yeardley and you were born at Grant hospital at 11:47 this morning and you are a beautiful little girl.
You look just like your sister.

I know family and friends are checking in and are worried by my quiet but we're all ok.
It's been a grueling 24 hours and if you can believe it, after all of that at home stuff, we almost didn't make it to the hospital in time!

I'm sitting in the nursery with you and we're getting ready to leave "against medical advice."
That's just a formal way of saying that they don't want me to leave as procedure and in order for me to walk out of here with you and return to our nest to salvage what we can from this "home birth" attempt, those are the papers that I'm required to sign.

You are I are doing great so I feel comfortable taking us both where we'll be more comfortable.

It's been quite an adventure, you little stinker, but I am so glad you're here.

I love you already,
Mama

2010-07-04T20:02:00.000-04:00

Things moving fast now.
Contractions are bearable but barely.
Just the boys here with us, my mom took the Littles for a bit.
We'd decided (before I called Jill) to proceed with dinner and wouldn't you know :)
Here you come....

Not sure how many more posts I can get out because we could be really close.

They keep pulling me back to bed, afraid I'm going to have you in the yard or on the stairs.

I'm very quiet and focused now during my contractions and if it doesn't get much worse, I've got this in the bag, baby :)

We're all just waiting for your final descent.

See you soon.

Loving you already,
Mama

7:05pm

2010-07-04T19:05:00.000-04:00

Abby is on her way.
Contractions are strong and regular and very frequent.
That did the trick!

I'm comfortable and am doing fine through the contractions so far.
They hurt but are still manageble for me.

Ironically we're now trying to slow this labor until Abby arrives :)
They've requested I stay in bed until she's here and then I can get up and move.

Everything is ready for you.

Back to focusing on the task at hand.

Will hop back on if I'm able but it's definitely moving fast.
Shouldn't be too much longer now?

Loving you already,
Mama

6:27

2010-07-04T18:28:00.000-04:00

It's over.
It hurt like crazy but I have so much good news!

There is no cervix left--maybe a lip around the edge.
I'm dilated to at least 6, maybe 7.

She is not leaving, is setting up for your arrival.

"We're having this baby!" she said.

I just need a few really awful contractions--she doesn't think it's going to take much at all.

I am so relieved--not only do I think this is going to work but I'm ALMOST DONE!!!

Come on, come on...we want to meet you :)

Loving you already,
Mama

5:15pm

2010-07-04T17:21:00.000-04:00

Last ditch effort coming.

Jill is back on her way over to manually strip my membranes, in an attempt to progress this labor.
If it does not work, if nothing is going on by bedtime, her recommendation is that we head to the hospital.
They seem to be more comfortable just allowing nature to take its course--once they introduce anything into my girlie bits, it sort of forces our hand a bit so they were reluctant earlier to try this.

But with labor stalling again, and with my concern growing, they are willing to give it a shot for me.

Jill said on the phone that an examination would be aggressive in nature or there's no point in taking the risk.
I have to tell you that I'm dreading this like you wouldn't believe.
But I want to keep you safe and I'm gambling either way.
I feel better trying something than doing nothing.
If this doesn't work, at least I'll know I did everything that I thought would get you here.

And if you still don't come...

Just come.

3:15pm

2010-07-04T15:17:00.000-04:00

Just slept the best I've slept in days.
Weeks, maybe.
It was only two hours but it felt like more.

Am up and feeling discomfort with contractions.
I can't tell yet which way this is going to go but it's definitely doing something.

Daddy spent my nap time reading up on our issues and is leaning toward giving you more time.
The midwives are supportive of my decision either way but also lean towards giving you more time.
Me...I just want this to stop.
I don't want to think about it anymore, I don't want to talk about it anymore, I just want it over.
I never, in my WILDEST dreams, imagined this as a possible birth scenario.
Having "issues", yes, but this one?
Didn't even know it was a possibility.

Your brothers and sister tie-dyed a onesie for you for the 4th.
It's ready.

Loving you already,
Mama

1:03pm

2010-07-04T13:04:00.000-04:00

I've had food, water, a massage, a walk and a whole lot of herbal stimulant.
Now I'm heading down for a nap and to hopefully coax these contractions to truly begin labor.
I'm still having them, which is a very good thing--it's much harder to convince a stubborn uterus to get a move on when it's a quiet one.

The stimulants (I'm taking blue cohosh and cotton root something or other) should take effect within about three hours and I'm approaching that point.

Daddy and I are trying to hash out our next move if this doesn't work.
Neither of us is particularly interested in making the hospital move unless it's absolutely necessary.

I'm reserving judgement until later this evening--I need to give this stuff a fair chance at working for me.

Any help you'd like to give would be great :)

Am in good spirits, worried and anxious a bit, but mostly...just wanting to get out of this situation ASAP.

Loving you already,
Mama

9:58am

2010-07-04T10:01:00.000-04:00

Jill's here.
Have actually been contracting on my own since this morning, coming about 6 minutes apart.
Decided to go ahead and begin herbal stimulants anyway.
Alternating between two different ones every 15 minutes until we are positive labor is underway.

She's offered to give me a massage so that's where I'm going now.

Loving you already,
Mama

(PS...your heartbeat nice and strong and FAST at 166 today.)

8:52am

2010-07-04T08:54:00.000-04:00

I was able to get some contractions started and WOW, they do not feel good.
What I need is for them to stick around this time.
Jill is on her way over with some herbal uterine stimulants.
She is confident this is going to work for us.
I am confident, too.
My body is ready, you're full-term so I know you're ready...we just need a bump.

I'm going to spend this entire day trying to get you to come out on my own.

Please work with me.

Loving you already,
Mama

8:02am

2010-07-04T08:03:00.000-04:00

Listen to me.

You have to come out and you have to do it soon or we're hospital bound.
If I go into the hospital and then tell them I've been leaking fluid for over 24 hours, I'm going to be treated very aggressively most likely, hooked up to Pitocen and antibiotics.
And that says nothing of how I'll probably be treated personally for attempting a homebirth and then showing up there.

I do not want any part of any of that.
They'll get you here and they'll do it immediately but I think it's going to suck real bad for both of us.

Because of the risk of infection, my midwives are very hesitant to mess with a uterus that is not in labor.
They seem to feel more comfortable going the hospital route than taking any chances, which I can and do appreciate.

I'm going to try a few things to stimulate our labor.
I really, really, really need you to cooperate because if you don't, I'm first going to have a meltdown of EPIC proportions and then I'm going to have to do something I really don't want for us.

You have run out of time.
Move. Your. You-Know-What and that's an order.
I'm your mother and am totally allowed to rule your life starting NOW.

7:04am

2010-07-04T07:06:00.000-04:00

We made it!
I can't tell you how happy I am that we did NOT meet at 4am this morning.
I've been up hourly (and so have you) but only for potty/soggy purposes.
The contractions I was having are all but a distant memory.

I can see no good in waiting any longer so I'm ready to hand you your eviction notice.
With the risk of infection rising combined with the fact that this really can't go on much longer like this anyway...I'm prepared to call in the troops.
I've given it over 24 hours and we're approaching my comfort threshold so...batten down thy hatches, young one.

I'm calling for help.

1:39am

2010-07-04T01:40:00.000-04:00

Still having contractions, hovering around 20 minutes.
But I can't wait any longer--I need to sleep.
I'm just crossing my fingers that you rest too, and that we make it to dawn.

Loving you already,
Mama

12:11am

2010-07-04T00:15:00.000-04:00

My contractions are not consistent yet but are increasing in strength and frequency.

25 minutes.
22 minutes.
17 minutes.

I'm starting to feel a bit sick.
I'm getting up for awhile to see if these stick around with activity or if they peter out.
If this is it, I need to know soon to make some phone calls ASAP.
If this isn't, I need the contractions to stop so I can sleep.

Maybe?
Maybe not?

10:47pm

2010-07-03T22:52:00.000-04:00

For the past few days I've felt like I've been standing in front of a locked door holding a ring of keys.
Behind the door is something I desperately need and in that ring of keys, there is only one that works but I have to stand there and try and try and try each one until I find the right one.
Today I feel like I found the key, I finally heard the "click" of the lock turning but now...my hands are too sweaty to turn the doorknob.

Seriously.

You're not planning a night attack are you?
The one where my eyes snap open and realize that I'm having a baby NOW?

I just find it funny that I woke up today thinking it was the PERFECT scenario, and if you look back a few posts, I think you'll find that I even described this day in the way it played out to be my dream birth day for you.
And all along I've said the one I prefer least is what's approaching.

At this point, I'd just to like a good night's sleep and to face you in the morning.
If you have not arrived over night, I will be calling for help as soon as I get moving.
The good news is that I feel really ready and have had the whole day to prepare mentally for this uhhhh, adventure that lies ahead.
The bad news is that I'm tired.
I've showered (and hopefully that is the last time I shave my legs while bending over you moaning and groaning) and am in my bed, with no plans to get out until morning.
Or, well, until I need the potty.

My body replenishes your "pool" every three hours so it's been a very soggy day for me and I'm not loving it at this point.
The trickle that was this morning is now a significant leak but I suspect we're not seeing more "action" because you're probably doing what Creux did.
He kept part of his water balloon as a pillow, which probably felt terrific to him but prevented his head from pressing down on my cervix.
My labor stalled with him at 9cm with the midwife literally waiting in the chair sitting in the catching position.
Once she realized what had happened, she moved his pillow and within ten minutes he was in my arms.

I am grateful that this is not TOTALLY the case with you as I remember sitting there watching my contractions climb to a level off the chart in strength and thinking....thank God I can not feel this. I would be dying.
So, until someone can come remove your pillow or just unplug your big noggin (you lying so low is probably working against me, too right now) I guess I'm happy to just have these mild contractions.

I can feel you wiggle from time to time so I know you're okay but I sure am anxious to meet you.

Tick tock, Baby.

Loving you already,
Mama

P.S. I wrote your names in the steam from my shower on the glass doors, one girl and one boy. I thought hopefully the next time I'm in there, probably while I'm laboring, that it would be a sweet reminder to keep me going. I love knowing they're there.

8:44pm

2010-07-03T20:45:00.000-04:00

Contractions are picking up.
Nothing regular yet...but I've had more in the last hour than in the last three.
Hoping something clicks soon and that we're on our way....

P.S. More certain that you are a girl.
Everything apparently has to be done YOUR way, eh?
It's okay...I get it... :)
I just never dreamed we'd be sitting here tonight BABYLESS!

5:39pm

2010-07-03T17:44:00.000-04:00

Nap was a success!
I'm not as keyed up as I was this morning so I was more able to settle myself.
Plus, I'm tired.
Your mama is not accustomed to waking with the birds.
(Who, ironically, are alive and chatty at 5:00am.)

I just got off the phone with Abby--I called to update her and get a little info on how we'll proceed if you don't start moving things soon.

She said that labor will usually begin within 24 hours on its on but that in a hospital setting, they would likely only give me 12....which would be now for us.
The reason for this is the higher risk of infection to us since now, you are not totally closed off from the world anymore.
The difference in MY case is that no one is messing around near you.
Whereas in a hospital, I would be checked internally every so often, thereby upping my risk of infection, here, there's nothing going on.
If someone were poking around, they would probably help to quicken my labor by either further tearing the bag or opening my cervix.
This is precisely what happened to me with Creux as I wasn't contracting with him until after my first internal exam.
Things moved fast from that point on.

She stated that if I am uncomfortable waiting, we should proceed in that direction--there are things we can do to jumpstart this.
But I said I was willing to at least wait until morning.
I just feel like I've gone this far in trusting my body and I KNOW I can and will spontaneously go into labor on my own so I feel like another 12 hours isn't going to hurt either of us.
She told me to continue to eat and drink and again (at the start of our conversation) asked if I'd slept which is just now starting to roll around in my head significance-wise (am I about to start a marathon? why is sleep so stinking important all of a sudden?)

I am not in pain, I'm having sporadic contractions so maybe (hopefully) those are working for us even though they aren't regular, it's a gorgeous evening and I feel like...soaking it up.
I know the end is near--will be tomorrow at the latest--so all of my frustration has evaporated and I'm left just enjoying the last little bit of this whole you-and-I thing right now.

I sure would love to not go into labor in the middle of the night.
But I'm letting you drive for the next 12 hours anyway so...I'll know when you're ready, right?

Loving you already,
Mama (who is anxious to hold you soon)

3:30pm

2010-07-03T15:31:00.000-04:00

Well, that was a terrible decision.
Hot and lame and I felt like I needed a diaper instead of a pad.

Nothing doing still.

Am in bed, planning to take a nap and hopefully prepare for an evening full of baby fun?

Listen, I would LOVE for you to hold off until midnight so we could have another holiday baby but, if I can just request one eensy thing here...can we start something this evening and finish up on the 4th if that's how you want it? I REALLY do not want to do the whole 3am thing.
Or hey, tomorrow works, too.
After, say, 10?

Napping now.

Loving you already,
Mama

1:02pm

2010-07-03T13:06:00.000-04:00

Is there any water left in there???

Heading to the Westerville 4th of July parade!
Yes, we're crazy :)
But other than the near constant leaking (!!!), I'm great!

Labor is expected to begin within 24 hours of rupturing membranes in MOST women.
Please do not let me be the exception to that rule!
While I'm really quite enjoying this pain-free process, I'm not wanting to run into any issues safety-wise.

Your clock is ticking, Baby!

Loving you already,
Mama

11:03am

2010-07-03T11:18:00.000-04:00

Yawn.
Went back up to bed about an hour or so ago and ended up sort of taking a nap.
I don't know how much I slept really but I tried.

Feeling totally fine still!
Who knows, maybe you are planning a midnight arrival?
(I keep humming that "Born on the 4th of July" that I mentioned a few hours ago :))

I had gone upstairs initially because there's a small snafu with your name and it's the pronunciation.
We went through this with Rhyse, too!
I loved the spelling of Rhys but that was pronounced "Reece" and I did NOT like that.
To us, it looked like the way we say "Rhyse" with a long i sound but it wasn't.
So we added the e ourselves :)
Sort of have the same thing going on with you.
I spent an hour on google, trying to confirm the pronunciation that we want for your Maybe Boy name.
I found it.
We're good.
And I think we're pretty certain that this is who you'll be.

Although...suddenly, I'm back to girl thoughts! :)
See what a disaster I am?
This has been fun for me though--the trying on of genders.
Even in the final hours of my pregnancy, I can flip back and forth, still imagining who you might be and how you'll change our family.

I was bemoaning the fact that I did not add one tiny little onesie to the 4th of July tie-dye shirts that we made with our friends the other day and then it occurred to me that...we still can!
So I think we'll spend some of this day doing a little family project for you!
I'm feeling fine so there's no reason for me to not head out for a bit if I want and in fact, it might help my contractions pick up.

This is just weird--I'm NOT contracting! (Nothing regular, that is.)
Me, the girl who contracts for A-G-E-S during the final month of pregnancy.
Just goes to show you never really can tell what you're in for, each baby is different, as is each labor!

Everyone is up now and tearing through the neighborhood.
They've been informed of your likely arrival some time today or tonight and they're VERY excited.

Loving you already,
Mama

7:45am

2010-07-03T07:57:00.000-04:00

Have just finally spoken with Abby.
I told her that I was leaking fluid but feeling great so far (no contractions still).
She asked what color the fluid was--I said clear.
If you were under duress, you might pass your meconium and then could swallow it, which could cause you problems breathing.
In this case, your water would be greenish in color.
So we're good there.

The second thing she said to me was, "Did you get a good night's sleep?"
Uhhhh, no.
We were out really late and your siblings didn't get to bed until midnight, Daddy and I until after 2:00.

I was up just before 5:00 so...no, not much sleep going on.'

She has encouraged me to eat, drink and rest.
I am supposed to call again when I start having somewhat regular contractions.
I asked if she meant to "call when I'm uncomfortable" and she said, "call before then--I'm worried about you waiting too long."

So normally, a laboring mama calls when contractions are about 5 minutes apart but she's asked me to do so when I notice a pickup at all, even at 10 minutes apart.

I'm slightly nervous but since I'm feeling fine, other than a bigger leak than just an hour ago, I'm just...hanging out.
All of your siblings are still snoozing peacefully and I have to tell you this:

This is the start of my dream birth.
I've got the whole day ahead of me--it's not night time, nor even close.
The sun is out and shining bright.
I could not have picked a better birth day if I tried.

I am so happy to be home and to be staying home.
I am not second guessing this decision but rather excitedly anticipating this wonderful event from the comfort and safety and privacy of my home.

I just keep imagining being in bed with you, holding you, and all of my other babies climbing in and out, trying to get close and take their peeks and touches.

I can't believe this is happening!!

My best guess is that you'll arrive between 3:00 and 7:00pm tonight unless things really pick up fast.
Who knows, you could be a midnight baby... "born on the 4th of July!"

Whenever, I'm ready.
I'm excited and nervous and am slightly apprehensive (what am I getting into today???) but oh my goodness, you're at the end of it all.

This day holds so much promise.

Loving you already,
Mama

39 Weeks, 1 Day

2010-07-03T06:34:00.000-04:00

This is it!
You're coming today!

I wondered yesterday as you've been super quiet for two days now (conserving energy?) and I had the MOTHER of all breakdowns in the early part of the afternoon.
Really, it was just hormones and frustration and it was only like 15 minutes because then small people start banging on the door wanting mama but when I finished weeping and wailing, I sat up, dried my tears and smiled.
I knew the end was near.
How near, I wasn't sure, but I knew it wouldn't be long.

When I saw the midwives on Wednesday, I pegged this weekend as your birthday but didn't want to publicly state so because then I felt like I'd jinx myself.
Because subsequent babies (that'd be you) tend to "drop" just before birth, I gave us until Sunday.

I woke up very early this morning feeling wet.
Wet enough that I needed new clothes.
And I wondered.
But some part of me also thought...it might be better to just sleep longer.
The midwives had given me a swab to test for fluid and I was so tempted to race downstairs to get it but the leak wasn't continual and I wasn't having any contractions so I thought I'd wait.
An hour later of tossing and turning and then another small surge of wetness drew me from my bed.
I went to find the swab, tested, and watched it immediately turn black.
(Which is the color of YIPPEE! on those babies :))

I woke Daddy, he's off doing....something...and I'm getting ready to get dressed and prepare for this.
I know I have more laboring to do than I usually do so that's got me a bit rattled.
I'm not expecting you soon--am not having contractions yet and when this happened with Creux, I had a good two hours before I started feeling uncomfortable.

I'm so excited to meet you!

I will stay in touch for as long as I can though the posts may be short and choppy as I just try to keep things updated.
I'll use spellcheck later :)

Here's wishing you a safe arrival!
Finally, finally, finally, after all these long months, I'll get to hold you soon.

Loving you already,
Mama

38 Weeks, 6 Days

2010-07-02T00:05:00.001-04:00

...annoyed, frustrated, tired, huge, desperate, fraying rapidly...

But still loving you already.
Mama
(Seriously though. How much bigger do you think you need to be? If you come out ten pounds, you're grounded. FOREVER.)

38 Weeks, 5 Days

2010-06-30T22:42:00.000-04:00

BIG changes today.
And I can't really say when it happened, this afternoon maybe?
This morning?
But you dropped and you dropped waaaaay down.

By the time I was getting ready for my midwives appointment this evening I had figured it out.
And not so much because I could breathe easier (I really still can't) or even because I noticed that my shape was different.

It's because you're now pinching a nerve every time you shift around and it's excruciating.

When I was almost ready to leave, I felt you start to move and then I had the most awful nerve pain shooting down the entire length of the back of my right leg.
Sure, other babies have pinched me before but you nearly paralyzed me.

I started screaming.
SCREAMING.
There was nothing I could do and I couldn't move or walk and could barely even stand up.

Daddy just so happened to be in the room and I think he thought I was joking at first but then realized that I wasn't, I really was in agony.
Oh, it was terrible.
TERRIBLE!
And it started to happen again while we were out having dinner and I was so afraid I'd start screaming in public.

I didn't.
But I didn't feel great, either and thought I was going to be sick in the bathroom.

When we arrived at the midwives office, I had decided that I'd ask for an exam.
I'd been nauseated again today, and with you dropping down combined with a few other new signs of pre-labor that I won't list here because they're sort of gross in a girl way, I thought I'd feel better knowing where I stand.

During the first part of my checkup, they usually manipulate you to see how you're lying and when I laid down, I couldn't believe how flat the top half of my belly was! Last time when Jill measured me, she had the tape up under my ribcage and here Abby was sort of in the middle of my belly.

You measured 40cm last time, remember I was complaining how big you were?
Today you were at 35 cm!!!
THAT'S how far you've dropped into my pelvis!
When Abby was feeling you on the outside of my belly, she said she could only feel your chin--the rest of your head is buried in my bones :)

Doing the internal exam was a bit awkward, honestly.
But I'm not sure that sort of stuff is ever really comfortable for anyone.

And as soon as she felt you, her eyes popped open and she said, "WOW, this baby is really low! Are you sure you're not in labor?"
It freaked me out a little, if I'm honest.
I wasn't expecting her to say that.

I knew things had definitely changed but good grief, suddenly I was half expecting her to just yank you right out.

In terms of "stations" which is how doctors and midwives reference a baby's engagement, any negative number is considered a very high position--not engaged in the pelvis.
Zero station is equal to the pelvic bones
And plus stations are below the bones, heading for the big exit sign.

You are currently sitting at a plus 2, which means you're way in there.
At plus 5, you're crowning.
You could still wiggle back out but I really don't think you're going to.
It seems to me that we're really kind of getting ready for this!
Abby said my conditions were "ripe" for birth but that I do have some laboring to do still which makes me feel better.
Not like the second I go into labor, you're going to come flying out in ten minutes.
(Though you might as soon as I fully dilate!)

But she did say I'd likely do very little pushing at all.
Once we get clearance from my body that everything is ready, it shouldn't be difficult to get you into my arms.
And so...we wait and cross our fingers that this is the start of something and not that I'm just going to be carrying you super low like this with your head between my legs for another week.
Ahem.

I'm sort of superstitious that if I actually say when I think you'll come, that I'll automatically tack on three extra days past my due date.
But I don't think it will be long now.
And I hope it's not past this weekend.

I just need to take one day at a time and see what you decide to do.

Ready when you are, Baby!

Loving you already, Low-Rider :)
Mama

38 Weeks, 4 Days

2010-06-29T23:51:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning nauseated.
And then I cried through my shower.

It was not a good start to the day.

Why the tears?
Oh, just a slow, methodical coming apart of a woman is all.
My undoing.

Had someone walked in and demanded to know what I was upset over, I would have been too baffled myself to reply.

And in some really screwed up way, this made me happy!
This is my own little preparation for you, it's totally hormonally charged and for whatever reason, seems to be a necessary component to my ending my pregnancies.

I do not suffer from any sort of post-partum weirdness, thankfully.
My roller coaster ride typically ends with a delivery and from that point on, I'm on a high until I'm completely over-whelmed.
Should be about Day Three or My First Day Alone.
Both will be blog-worthy, trust me.
But even then, I'm so consumed with baby love that while it's hard to juggle, I juggle as mightily as I can and I still find many, many, many amazing moments in my days where I'm over-come with joy for my "job".
And your sweet baby sounds and smells and the heft of you in my arms will send me right on over the moon hourly.

So it's my birthday but not yours, huh?
Okay, fine, I get it.
You don't want to share.

Your daddy tried to make this easier for me last night, attempting to "reason" with me (as if! I'm ten months pregnant--THERE IS NO REASONING) by saying, "Do you really want every other birthday of yours to be centered around toys and kiddish cakes and someone else because it will NEVER be yours again, you know that right?"
And my response was, "YES, I WANT THAT!"
(I really might've yelled it even, just like that.)
He was just trying to let me down easy, I know.
But I sort of woke today with a small hope in my heart.
Which you promptly stomped out, so thanks for that! :)
Only kidding...it will be when it will be and I'm going to have to find the patience to allow you the freedom to choose your own birthdate.

But seriously?
Do you think maybe you could speed it up a bit?
Just a bit?
We've officially got nine days to go and I am definitely starting to swing crazily between A Good Day and A Very, Very Bad Day.
The Good Days are slowly going bye-bye so if we could just wrap this up soon, that'd be just FAB.

And please.
PLEASE.
Don't make me go past the 9th.
PLEASE!
I can and will hang on until then but I honestly do not know what will become of me if it's any later than that.
I've never been past 39 Weeks and 5 Days.
We're about a week out from that so you've gotta start getting less comfortable in there.
I wouldn't even be concerned about it at all, and I really don't think it's going to happen, but this is my first Hands-Off pregnancy and so, I don't know how it'll go.

What I mean by that is that I'm not being fussed with weekly at the doctor's office.
Those internal exams that I am skipping typically send me into contraction hell for awhile after and are possibly a trigger for my very revvy uterus to help my babies decide it's Eviction Time.
And, I've also at this point, typically undergone a fun little procedure called "membrane stripping" which I won't go into the details of but suffice it to say, it sort of tells you babies to beat it.
Since I've not done this with you...it's going to be interesting to see how you handle being left alone.

My next appointment is tomorrow and I'm on the fence as far as requesting an exam.
I will be 39 weeks on Friday and at this point, I'm usually right about 4-5 cm done.
Perhaps this knowledge would help me get through the next little while, if I asked and found it to be true at this time.
If it's not, I really might jump off a building.

But I do sort of want to just leave you alone.
I'm torn.
I suppose I'll just make my decision on the fly tomorrow when we get there.
A Good Day= privacy for you.
A Very, Very Bad Day= I need some numbers.

Tonight we changed the sheets on the bed to the labor and delivery ones.
There is now a crinkly, plastic tarp covering my mattress, underneath my mattress pad which I hope does not crinkle all night long or else I will be yanking everything, including your father, off the bed at my 4:15 Appointment to Pee and removing it, mattress be damned.

And I think, my dear Maybe Boy, that you have a name!
It's been churning and churning for awhile now, a third but sort of distant contender, nothing that has ever really jumped out at me but something kept in mind.
This morning at breakfast, we agreed to let the front-runner name go, the one I'd seen in the magazine yesterday.
Love it but...no.
It's officially gone and already it feels like the right decision.

We talked about the second one we liked, one we actually tossed around for Creux before deciding on Creux--I noticed that Daddy stuck this name back on the list the other day.
I was open to it and still sort of am.
But I had found and jotted down this other coolish name I came across weeks ago and at the time, we were still both digging nightly, covering our baby books as fast as we could so it was just one of about 15 names scrawled on a piece of paper, but today your Daddy said that he still liked it, that one in particular.
I've thought about it all day, trying it on for size...and I DO really like it, too.
It fits all requirements and goes well with your siblings names.
No one would be surprised that we picked it as it's..."us"?

I'm not 100% at this point, sort of hovering around 90.
Which is a good place to be "just in case."
I've got nothing for a middle but knowing what we are likely to choose for your first will hopefully make that job a snap for us.

Funny how a day can change everything, right?

(So, listen, if YOU want to impact a change then you just go right on ahead and impact away :))

Okay, that's enough for tonight.
It would seem that I have endless opportunities to make these last entries to you.
Stinker.

Loving you already,
Mama (who is STILL enormously pregnant, in case you needed one last reminder.)

38 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-06-28T23:52:00.000-04:00

So I had an interesting dream last night.
A "message from beyond," if you will.
And it came from my grandfather, strangely enough, my mother's dad.
He's been dead for years so this was really quite...odd to me.
I don't often converse with dead people in my dreams, even ones I loved.
And actually, it wasn't exactly a conversation...

I can't remember the setting of this dream or any of the details preceding his appearance.
But he came up to me and he said, "I know you think it's a boy, but it's not."
And then he started snickering.

You must understand, my grandfather was a snickerer.
And he was prone to jokes.
Downright ornery, he was--the coolest grandparent I've ever known.
He wasn't old and stuffy, rather the opposite.
I think, in fact, that he had more fun at my wedding than I did which is saying something.
Because my wedding was a par-tay, from what I can remember.
Sorry, losing my train of focus.

Anyway, he was a teaser and would often torment your Memaw's husband (my stepfather) at family dinners by saying things that he knew would drive him crazy.

(My stepfather was not known for his wildly intoxicating sense of humor and had buttons glaringly easy to push. And it's not that I disliked him--it was a complicated relationship for sure--but I definitely enjoyed those dinner moments more than anyone else. Well, other than my grandpa.)

Back to the dream--so he says that to me and walks away.
I don't respond.
And I am PISSED.

I call my mother.
(In my dream.)

"You won't BELIEVE what he just did! I've waited all this time not knowing my baby's gender and NOW he tells me, when I'm DAYS AWAY from finding out on my own, what I'm having? How could he do that to me!?!"

Her response was basically, "You sound surprised" and "I told you it was a girl all along."

Hmm.

Very peculiar, right?
Because I DO think you're a boy.
And I can't even take this dream as a divine message from grandpa-in-heaven because of that snicker.
Had he not snickered, I might be sitting here tonight now firm in my belief that a) people CAN send messages from beyond and b) you're a daughter for me.

But that laugh...it was almost intentionally confusing--but on who's part?
Did I conjure up this whole thing and then add in that snicker to confuse myself?
Or really, did I receive a message from an ornery old man who likes to play jokes and wanted to mess with me a little bit for the sake of his own entertainment?
(HIGHLY plausible.)

Puzzling, no?

So how about you just show yourself and clear it up for me? :)

I'm hanging in there.
Today brought, in addition to lugging your hefty weight around, some lovely back pain with my contractions.
And not like the regular old back ache of pregnancy but the kind that feels like my spine is being twisted as I breath through a contraction in complete stillness.

I hate moving during contractions.
The worst is when I'm driving or riding in the car and being jostled around.
At home, I go perfectly still and quiet.
Even now, I don't like to talk through them or do anything but attempt to relax myself.
I'm doing pretty good so far.
This is the easy part and like I said, I know I'm most likely doing quite a bit of the pre-work so that perspective helps me not to cave into my misery.

But I'll be honest.
I will start to cave soon.
There's only so many more nights I can go being so uncomfortable and so many more days spent sitting through contractions wishing they would just ratchet up and get the show on the road.

And maybe that's by design because usually when my labors do truly begin, I am grateful and almost looking forward to the pain because I'm so worn down from the weeks of waiting and wondering and the contracting, contracting, contracting.

Looking at what are labeled "prelabor" signs, indicating that labor could be just days away or weeks, I currently have 8 of the 11.
What does this mean?
Everything and nothing.
Just that I'm pretty well ready.
It's close but could still be awhile.
People are asking me, "When do you think?" and all I can say is that I don't feel there quite yet.

Usually I bottom-out, hit a massive wall of self-pity and impatience.
Creux was born on a Really Bad Day for me.
I remember distinctly, I was in a rotten mood all day long and had just woken from a nap and still felt...hopeless.
Like I couldn't go another minute.
And then I realized that my water had broken.
My heart soared, yes, because I knew then that I was going to meet my baby but in that first moment, all I could think was, "Thank God. It's over."

I don't feel this quite yet with you but I also still have a whole week and a half left.
Most likely by then, my sanity will be dangling precariously and I will be near crazed with Birth Longing.
And again, yes, to meet you, but also to end what I will come to believe to be my "sentence."

Tomorrow is my birthday but I don't think you're ready for it to be yours.
Maybe things will change in between now and then, who knows.
Anything is possible.
(Are you listening because I just said that outloud for your benefit.
No pressure but you'd be a GREAT gift!)

Absolutely still solid on your Maybe Girl name--no other contenders and none wanted.
Still floundering on your Maybe Boy though we did sort of seem to narrow it to two, no middle yet, then took a break over the weekend and then today I saw the one that's been hanging around in my head forever in a magazine.
A little boy shown smiling happily with his family.
Bearing your Maybe name.
Coming across it today is sort of significant as I was really kind of leaning towards it again.
(It's the one we like originally but have all along worried that it's too mainstream.
IT IS.)

So it's back to the drawing board :)

Loving you already,
Mama

38 Weeks, 2 Days

2010-06-27T22:43:00.000-04:00

We were up late together last night.
I was having contractions for hours again and I stayed up until almost 2:00, just to make sure they weren't the real thing.

One of my biggest fears is ignoring those and going to sleep, figuring, as I've done in the past TWICE, that they're just those Braxton Hicks contractions and not the start of labor.
I do not like my eyes snapping open at 4:30 in the morning and realizing that what I'd been feeling earlier, when I curled up in bed and went to sleep, was actually the very beginning of someone's birth.

I don't think we have the precious time to waste, honestly.
I think if I miss it like that with you, I just might be having you on my own and it won't matter a bit even if I planned to go to a hospital because there'd be no way I'd have made it anyway.

Let's not do that.

My hope for us is that my water breaks, which it's only done once in all four of my pregnancies.
That will be an absolutely positive sign of your immediately impending birth so there will be no question in the matter, "to call or not to call", and it will also give me just a bit of time to gather my wits about me.

If I wake in the middle of the night with your coming, I won't be able to do much of anything so it's sort of important that everything is ready, even the state of the house, before we turn in at night.

If your births go as the others have and I do just wake up in the middle of my labor, I will be incredibly sick and will barely be able to shower and dress.
Interestingly, fear in not present in my memories of these times because I am so consumed with what I'm feeling because it's not good and it takes everything I have to just focus on the small tasks at hand.
This is strangely comforting to me now, to know that I probably won't care WHO or WHERE I'm delivering you because when it starts, I will probably be lost in my own private hell already.

Everything that everybody planning to be at your birth needs to know, they need to know now.
And there's a section in my medical file called "special notes" where I am to put down anything I want the midwives to do or not do during your birth because I probably won't be talking to anyone.
(I haven't filled this out yet.)

I've been sort of preparing Daddy here and there with these small things and I'm confident that Emily, who will be here for your siblings, can completely handle the day without my hovering, taking good care of everyone so that my thoughts will not stray from doing my job upstairs with you.

Because I do know this: I am confident that I can do this.
But I am also confident that it will go to hell in a handbasket ASAP if I break my concentration.

I remember with Greer, when I arrived at the hospital at 8cm done, in complete agony (being transferred during that hard, hard labor is AWFUL) and I held it together until we arrived there.
As soon as I knew there was "help", I made a conscious decision to abandon the intense internal focus that I had and to rely on them to get me through.

I could have done it on my own, without medication, and had I waited just a bit longer, 45 minutes!, I would have.

So I know I can do this.
But I really need to let everything go in order to hang tough and that's hard for me.
Maybe it won't be as hard as I think because I simply know not to break my stride once I have it.

Anyway, there's all that to say that I would like our labor to begin by my water breaking and I would like this to happen in the early afternoon.
Like I can pick, right? :)

It's just that the night seems scarier to me--and here now, it's dark and stormy.
And my contractions just keep coming and I know we're getting closer.
Plus, I had a small, private, hormonal meltdown in the shower last night.
Well, you know, because you were there.

That's pre-labor for me, too.

The only thing missing yet, the step not yet presented, should be one giant round of false labor.

Usually, I have one up-all-night, sick as can be, hours and hours of laboring alone in the dark downstairs while my family slumbers, waiting for the contractions to move closer so that I can confirm the true beginning of something.
And usually, they hit about five minutes apart, strong as can be, for EONS and then...they'll stop.

I will be exhausted and defeated at the end, vowing never, EVER to get pregnant again and put myself through such misery.
I will sleep all day and Daddy will stay home from work in order to let me.
But on the heels of this normally is my real labor.
I just have never known it beforehand like I do now.
(I took notes last time :))
(But also, I should add here that the rounds of false labor always coincide with an internal exam, of which I have had none and am not sure if I plan to on Wednesday.)

It'll be interesting to see how this plays out for the two of us.

Loving you already,
Mama

38 Weeks, 1 Day

2010-06-26T23:14:00.000-04:00

What is it with these Saturday funks?
I seem to make it through the week okay and then whammo!, I start coming apart on Saturday.

Daddy offered to start the closets today which I really, really want done and I know now that I've probably squandered the chance for a long, long time but I couldn't face a day on my own with your brother, the house, life in general.
We were even down three kids all day long and yet I still couldn't do it.
Instead we stupidly killed the day doing basically nothing of importance and STILL I'm funkified.

Tonight is not a good night for your birthday, despite the full moon hanging in the sky.
It's stormy and I choose not to give birth in stormy weather so we're just going to hold out, mkay?
Stormy weather is not comforting when considering something as major as delivering a baby at home and tonight I feel like just snuggling down in my bed, anyway.

I looked that up, by the way.
The whole "full moon" thing.
I was curious what Google would say about that--certainly I've spent my life hearing about things being blamed on that fabulous moon and never really wondered why.
But I can tell you now...

Humans are 80% water.
The moon pulls the tides in the oceans and even controls currents in rivers so the school of thought there is that it also affects a woman's bag of amniotic fluid in much the same manner when she is very near her due date.
There are a statistical high number of births in the three days surrounding a full moon and so goes the thinking that the full moon's gravitational pull is strong enough to encourage the snapping of the "bulging" bag of amniotic fluid in some pregnant mamas, thereby beginning her labor.

Interesting, eh?
Do I believe it?
I believe a little of a lot of things and am open-minded in that way.
I believe we are intrinsically connected to our environment in ways that we can't necessarily explain so yes, I think it's plausible.
But I don't think you're coming tonight.
Maybe if I were closer to my due date...

You've been strangely quiet the past two days and part of me is hopeful that you're conserving energy because we're close to your birth.
I know you're okay because when I realize it's been awhile since I've heard from you, I prod your body with my hand and you wake up almost instantly and squirm away.
It's a crazy thing, that ability--to wake you, my snoozing fetus, when I want to, just as I will be able to when you're on the outside of my body.
It's just a very surreal thing, how human you are and yet, still in the dark, underwater, upside-down, relying on me to keep you alive.

I'm having awful contractions, stronger and longer than they were a few days ago.
It gives me a chance to practice relaxing through them though which is good for me because what I keep reading is that fear and tension will make everything feel a bazillion times worse.
But really, and what I've known all along, is that if I just listen to my body and do what I feel is instinctually helpful, then I'll be better off.
I don't know that I'll be fine but I'll be better off.

I'm tired tonight, heading to bed and hoping for a more "normal" day tomorrow.

Loving you already,
Mama (who is somewhat afraid that you might just be undergoing another growth spurt which would account for my case of the blahs and your being so...lazy in there. Oh, please, NO!)

37 Weeks, 6 Days

2010-06-24T22:40:00.000-04:00

Am freshly highlighted and cut.
You are officially welcome here :)

Been having contractions since about 5pm, a couple an hour.
Nothing to get excited about, just me doing the footwork.
At the same time...I'm excited to be doing this footwork!
I know these are working contractions and that with each day that passes this way, we'll be a step closer to each other.

I've spent the last couple of weeks really trying to prepare myself for the upcoming event and I have to say...
I feel at peace these days.

I'm tired tonight, have been running all day long.
Looking forward to a nice, long, mama break when you say the word.
Am ready for a few days snuggled in bed.
With you.

Loving you already,
Mama

37 Weeks, 5 Days

2010-06-23T23:02:00.000-04:00

Good news!
You turned and are now back to facing the right way!

You're laying sideways, with your wee little bottom sticking out on the right side of my body.
This is a perfect position as hopefully when labor begins, you'll just maneuver slightly and be facing down.
Like you're supposed to be.
Like in a way that won't make me want to knock myself out with that frying pan stashed under my bed.

Obviously we had our check-up tonight with the midwives and I went in there and tattled mericlessly on you.
"I can't sleep, there's so much pressure, I have heartburn, the baby is stabbing me with contraband scissors, I'm tired, I'm grouchy, I HAVE CANKLES!"

Just ten days ago, I saw them here at our house for our home visit.
And I was still faring pretty well.
But so much has changed for me in those ten days and today I whipped out my laundry list of ailments.

I mentioned to them this stabbing thing you're doing.
"There's so much pressure and then I get this really painful jab that literally makes me yelp outloud."
(Really, it does. I feel like a moron gasping or yelping spontaneously in public but I can't help it. I know you have scissors in there.)
"In your cervix?" they both asked at the same time.
"Yes!" I shouted. "WHAT IS THAT???"
"It's the baby opening your cervix, burrowing in there, banging its head against you."

They failed to mention the scissors that you've somehow come across but apparently it's just you trying to find the exit door.
You're looking in the right place, by the way.
Just look a little less...viciously, please.

I was really happy to hear that you'd moved--it was a big relief to me.
They are encouraging me to keep making you squashed so that you don't turn back because it's possible that you'll twist over again.
We need you to just chill in there for now.

We were also talking about all the pressure I sometimes feel from you and they were saying with first time babies, they usually drop into the pelvis within a month to a few weeks from birth.
With subsequent babies, they usually don't drop until just before or at the start of labor but can move in and out of the pelvis easily.
This would explain why sometimes you're so low and heavy I can barely walk and that's not an understatement.
When you are lodged in my pelvis, I just sort of drag around.
But then later, I can move more freely.
It really sort of does make me appreciate that you don't drop down there and stay down there.
I'd been in REAL trouble if you did because you are heavy.

Do you want to know how heavy you are?
Listen here, you little pork chop.
Ten days ago, when I was at 36 weeks, you measured right about there--close to 37.
Right now, I am approaching 38 weeks and you're measurement should reflect that.
You rang in at 40!!!
No friggin wonder I couldn't get out of bed on Saturday and why I feel so different and big and draggy and heavy!
You're HUGE!
I feel like you've grown from yesterday to today and I feel like that every day right now!

You're probably going to be my biggest baby yet, especially if we make it to our due date.
My guess is you're a good seven pounds right now and we still could have two or more weeks of growth.
GAH!
Listen, I was not built for birthing big babies so you're going to have to lay off the Haagen Daz or whatever you managed to get ahold of along with those scissors that I KNOW you have in there.

I punched Daddy in the arm on the way to the car and berated him for his part in your weight issues.
MY genes make long, skinny babies.
HIS genes make butterballs.
Ornery butterballs.
I already know what you're going to look like, just from hearing how big you are.
You will have a mass of dark hair, a squished up face, the most EDIBLE newborny fat rolls, bunched up fists and a penis.
You will look like a tiny, pissed off boxer.

And lucky for you, I LOVE that look :)

Thank you for being such a good baby and for rolling over like you were asked and for letting me get my hair done tomorrow as requested.
Keep up the good work because I have another request.
(It's actually sort of a demand, phrased as a request--something I'm quite skilled at doing.)
There's a full moon on Saturday and I think that would be a wonderful birthday for you.
But I'm still sort of partial to Tuesday, the 29th.
That's MY day and I'd love to share it with you.

SO...since you've hijacked all of the available space in my body and can't grow much bigger anyway (you're just getting fatter at this point, like a Thanksgiving turkey), why not one of those two days?

Think about it.
And put down the scissors.
AND the Haagen Daz.
(I don't even have to ask to know it's something like Chocolate Chocolate Chunk. I'm right, aren't I, you little piglet?)

Loving you already,
Mama

37 Weeks, 4 Days

2010-06-22T15:33:00.000-04:00

Charles Pavey II
Rhyse Manning
Greer Addison
Creux Calloway
YOUR NAME HERE

Who are you?
WHO ARE YOU???

(Making slight progress on your Maybe Boy name. Slight. But we're getting closer, I can feel it. Hoping to unearth most fantastic fit for you here VERY soon because last night I found myself timing contractions at seven minutes out for over an hour and all I could think about was your Maybe Boy non-name!)

Loving you already,
Mama (who is using nap time to dig, dig, dig for super cool something to call you!)

37 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-06-21T15:20:00.000-04:00

False alarm, sorry.
Apparently just peed on myself :)

I don't think the paper that we got worked anyway but it became clear to me as the night went on that I wasn't leaking.

We're doing okay today.
You're still pinching me though and now messing with the nerve that goes down the back of my leg.

Seriously.
Whenever you're ready.
Thursday, after 7:00.

XO

Loving you already,
Mama

37 Weeks, 2 Days

2010-06-20T23:24:00.000-04:00

And this is where it gets tricky.

I might be leaking fluid, I can't tell.
And ironically, for the first time ever, I was HANDED litmus paper so that I could be sure to test myself when in doubt.
And also ironically, I lost it.
I don't know how.
It was in my medical folder (which is in my possession, also for the first time ever) and now it's not there.
It looked like a simple stick of gum, which is why it probably isn't there anymore.
It wouldn't surprise me a bit if someone had opened my folder (it's lying on my night-table for easy access, right by the damn phone) and made off with the "gum."

I think we're probably fine and was really quite leaning toward just a "wait and see" approach but your Dad insisted on heading to Meijer to see if he could rummage up more litmus paper.

I've had another hard day with you but not quite as bad as yesterday.
Actually no where as bad, to be honest as I was at least out of the bed and communicating with my family.
You are just applying so much pressure down on my pelvic floor that I'm really having trouble getting around.
We were running errands today and I was struggling so much that Daddy looked at me and said, "You may have less time than you think."
Which maybe I do.
Or maybe this is just the way the next 19 days or so are going to go.
It's always questionable at this point, every series of contractions, every twinge of weirdness that could signal the start of labor, every weird drop of wetness that is probably pee but could be amniotic fluid.
That's how it happened with Creux, after all.
Just a bit of wetness, so slight that at first I thought nothing of it.
And then it became clear as the hour went on--I wasn't peeing on myself from baby pressure, I was really and truly leaking fluid!

I think things are probably fine with us right now but Daddy wants to have what we need in case we're not fine in like two hours.
And really, it would be quite stupid for me to NOT check, what with you being my 5th and all.
We need all the heads-up we can get.

I know I said that I didn't think you were coming this week but things are changing so much for me on a daily basis right now.
Two days ago, I was in a much different place than I am now.
I wasn't so uncomfortable, and I don't think you were so low lying.
Now I'm a little more on edge because...well, I'm in my window and things are progressing for sure.
I've had babies ranging from 37 weeks to 39 so it wouldn't necessarily be a stretch for you to come now.
But I just really sort of have it in my head that because the last two were just two days away from their due date that you will be that way as well.
I, however, know nothing for sure.
And neither does anyone else.
I remember having my 37 week check-up with Chas ON THE DAY I turned 37 weeks and I was complaining of contractions.
The doctor checked me, told me I was only dialated to 2 cm and that "it would be at least 10 days."
I went into labor that night and was holding my baby less than 24 hours later.

So I'm feeling good right now, feeling fine, having mild contractions but nothing alarming.
I don't think this is it but we'll know for sure here in just a bit.
If it is, I'm ready.
And if not, I'm still ready.

The only thing missing IS YOUR NAME!
And the damn litmus paper :)

We made a mold of you today for Father's Day.
After spending the afternoon with me barely making it through Costco, we decided to not waste any time on making that mold just in case you decided to come before the next weekend arrives.

The mold is beautiful.

I see it now and I'm in awe that it's me and it's you.
I can't imagine what it will be like years from now, when pregnancies are just a distant memory for me, to be able to touch and feel that big belly and think...what a miracle.
I'm so happy we did this, that I have this amazing keepsake of you.
You may be the fifth baby coming along and there are definitely going to be some drawbacks to that but I have to tell you this: no one else, not even Chas, has what you have and will continue to have.
No special words from me, no amazingly amazing pregnancy mementos like what we did today.
Everyone has a smattering of photos, of course, but your life will be incredibly documented, and has been right from the beginning.
It's one gift that I am able to give you that is just for you and that you'll be able to say, when the others are teasing you about whatever they will tease you about, "Well, at least Mom wrote me a BOOK!"
You go ahead and say it, darling.
Because I want you to feel pride in that and to know that I'm so happy to create these sort of "living" keepsakes for you.

It is, has been, and will be my absolute pleasure for now and for always.

Now I better go do some "just in case" stuff and should (when) you are set to make your arrival, I will be here as much as I can, writing for you along the way.
I may not get much down if it goes quickly but I'm trying to stay in touch as much as possible so that, when it is time, you will be able to read my thoughts and emotions via my words in "real time."
I've come this far with the journaling and want to finish it the way I started: in it all the way.

Loving you already,
Mama (who, if I am not going to be delivering you this evening, would REALLY like a bit of sleep.)

37 Weeks, 1 Day

2010-06-19T23:55:00.000-04:00

Today was a really bad day for me.
"Bad" in that I was just totally off--I couldn't rally, I couldn't pull myself out of it.
I had no desire to leave my bed.
Which really stunk because it was a gorgeous summer day and I missed a great opportunity to have some fun with your siblings and that never makes me happy.

It started in the wee hours of the morning, actually.
I went to bed around 1:30 and woke at 4:00a.m for a potty/Tums break.

And then I laid awake for the next four hours.

I tried to sleep, I really did.
But I was hot then I was cold.
You were wiggling.
I had heartburn.
I had to pee.
The sheets felt funny to me.
I heard weird noises.
There were glowy lights from the cable box that were bothering me.
I could see the sun starting to rise and it sent me into a panic which made the insomnia so much worse.

By the time Creux arrived in my room with a request for breakfastat 8:30, I was just starting to drift off again.
I woke Daddy and they went away.
And still, I could not sleep.

I'm just too uncomfortable.

So I slugged around the house a bit but mostly I kept sneaking back into my bed, with the gorgeous sun pouring into my room, and the squeals of delight coming from my deck as your siblings played in the new pool we set up for them.

I really didn't leave my bed all day and I hated it.

Now had it been rainy and ugly, I would have been delighted by the opportunity to lounge around.
But as it was, I felt like a sick person who just couldn't be better, despite every reason in the world to try.

This last month has historically been brutal for me and it would seem as though maybe this time it will be the same.
You have either dropped a bit into my pelvis or have simply just grown bigger because you're applying a ton of pressure down there, making it hard for me to walk comfortably at all at this point.
It used to be that at the end of the day I'd struggle but now I'm just struggling in general.
And there's that weird pinching and burning sensation that is getting stronger as your head presses down harder.
It downright hurts but today I was able to throw you off a bit and it would go away when you laid off a bit.
I don't know what that is, I've never felt it before.
But I hate it.

My contractions are different with you, too.
They are not as frequent as I would say that they typically are at 37 weeks for me but the intensity of the contractions are unbelievable.
Using those as a guide, I don't think my labor is going to last very long or be very pleasant for me in general.
I think once it begins, it's going to be fast and hard and I just hope that everyone assembles here in time.
Daddy can get to me in 20 minutes or so but the midwives both need about 40 minutes to an hour if I call them from their homes. If they're at the office, 30 minutes hopefully.
They should be able to make it...but I don't know.
If I don't catch it early enough, we could have a real issue on our hands!

And that might sound weird, maybe you'd think that I'd automatically know when I'm in labor, but my contractions should increase over the next weeks with frequency and strength, making it difficult for me to know if what I'm feeling is the beginning of something or just more of the same.
Make no mistake though, there will come a contraction that is FAR different from the rest and I will think, "How could I have mistaken those others for THIS?" but by that point, I will not have much time, especially if I start my labor halfway done dilation-wise.

I may request an internal exam at my appointment on Wednesday just so I know where I'm at since we'll be approaching 38 weeks and I should have done some work by that point.
At the same time, I'd rather just be left alone and I'm sure you would, too, so I probably won't make up my mind on that until we get there.

I've already made many parental decisions concerning you at our last meeting with the midwives.
We did a little ask-and-answer question regarding your treatment immediately after birth and this is what was decided:

You will not be receiving the standard post-birth eye drops as I do not have a sexually transmitted disease and that is simply for prevention of transference there.

You will not be receiving a Vitamin K shot unless you have a "tramautic" birth which would typically involve the use of forceps or vacuum. That shot has been linked to incidence of childhood cancer and if we don't need it, we aren't taking it.

You will not be receiving the Hepatitis B shot as, again, it more of a sexually transmitted disease based vaccine and you are not at risk.
For that matter, you will not be receiving any of the standard vaccinations until Daddy and I feel that something is warranted for you specifically.

Your cord will not be cut until several minutes after birth, when it has finished pulsating.
I know that sounds totally disgusting.
But it's better for you.
I know because I looked it up.

We have decided (I'm so sorry) that you will be circumsized but are leaning toward having someone VERY SKILLED come to our home for that procedure. It is better for babies to be circumsized a few days after birth anyway, it's been suggested around day 8 or so, and if you are a boy, I will suffer along with you but feel like this is the best way to handle it. Our pediatrician will also do it if we'd like to go that route instead.

I have fully researched all of these decisions and do not take any of them lightly--it's an incredibly important job to make health-related decisions for another human being. But I want you to know that I (we) have made them with what we believe to be your best interests in mind.

As your mother, I will always make sure that I am informed and know what I'm doing (to the very best of my ability) in regards to your care and will not say "okay" to anything unless I know what it is, why you need it, and what might happen as a result of you getting it or not getting it.
I wish that I had done this better with your three oldest siblings.
But I didn't and luckily no one seems to be any worse for the wear but now, I'm a different mama and am fiercely protective of your little body and what I allow to happen to it.
You can't speak for yourself and since I'm your voice, I feel a terrific responsibility to dig deep for you and procede accordingly.

Still no name.
It's killing me, this no name thing.
But your dad is working hard nightly, staying up late with the baby book, writing down a few things here and there which he shows to me and then watches as I shake my head.
We haven't found it yet.
But it's out there.
I know it is.

All communications on a girl name have ceased, I'm happy to report.
There is no back-up choice; we're firm on both first and middle.
And THAT is a relief though I really don't think we'll be using it because I just know you're a boy.
I will, however, keep it tight under-wraps just in case there is another little girl in my future at some point...

This is the week that you "should" make an appearance if we're to believe the "five months from the first full week of fetal movement" thing that the midwives tossed out there way back in the winter.
I can't say for sure anything as things change for me daily right now but I don't think you're coming this week.
Typically my body gets a little more hysterical first, upping all of the signs and symptoms of labor until I can barely stand it another day.
But that's how I felt today.
I just felt...stuck.
Tired.
Done.

Should you decide to come, could I just make one eensy-weensy request?
I held off on getting my hair cut and colored for as long as I thought I safely could before risking your arrival and my appointment is Thurday evening.
Listen, I am DESPERATE to get in there.
I waited so long because, since I don't bottle feed, I need to be able to stretch my next appointment to a point where you can last about three hours without me.
If I make it to my appointment on Thursday, I can probably make my next cut and color three months out.
By then, this mama should be able to sneak off and hustle back without you going bananas for a boob.

So while I hate to request that you stick around in there for just a bit longer, could we, if we're going to meet this week, do it sometime after 7:00pm on Thursday?
Thanks so much, sweetie.

Loving you already,
Mama (who is hoping for a really good night's sleep tonight because tomorrow is Father's Day and I simply CAN'T pawn your siblings off on Daddy on his day.)

36 Weeks, 5 Days

2010-06-17T00:11:00.000-04:00

We are 100% on your Maybe Girl name.
And I'm in LOOOVE with it.

So you know what this means, right?

You are a boy.

For whom we have NO NAME.

So this is my new and probably final gender guesstimate for you and for a few reasons:

One, I'm always wrong throughout my pregnancies but right at the end. This whole time, I've thought you were a girl. But you're not. I really think you're not.
Two, you're huge. I'm huge. Ridiculously so.
Three, you're strong and are starting to battle your way out. You are not going down without a fight, no sirree!
Four, we have no name for you and no real contenders right now, so that can only mean that you will pop out needing one badly.
Five, I've caught myself three times this week referring to you with the male pronoun. "He" this and "he" that.
Subconsciously.

And over the past few days, when I've imagined your birth, as you slip out of my body and into this world, I notice that I'm imagining a little boy.

If I'm right, you are in GOOD company over here! :)
We're deep in little men though I have to warn you that your smallest big brother will probably spend his life tormenting you.
Sorry about that.
He's a crazy little lover, that one, who would be THRILLED with a little brother.
To harass endlessly :)

A few things:

I'm trying to post more frequently for you as we lead up to your birthday.
Things are changing rapidly for me now and the entire household is prepared for your arrival.

Because I'm not sleeping, I'm back to needing, really and desperately needing, an afternoon nap.
You have been brutal lately, doing who-knows-what down on my pelvic floor but causing all manner of pinching and burning sensations.
You're still very active which is surprising to me.
And frankly, a little scary.
I need a Chill Baby, remember?
REMEMBER?

I know you're not liking what's going on between us right now but the fact of the matter is that I've got to try and get you to turn over and I'm doing just that.
The point, however, is to make you uncomfortable enough by squishing you a bit so that it'll force you to want to change positions.
It doesn't feel great to me either, if it makes you feel any better.
I've been ordered to sit up extremely straight, tipping you forward as much as I can (thereby squashing you) and spending some time on my hands and knees.
Can't tell you how much I'm loving that right now.
So, please, just roll over and we can stop.
I'll be checking in on you on Wednesday and if you've not moved by then, I'm going to have to kick it up a notch.
Babies coming out sunny-side up are notoriously harder to birth.
That. Ain't. Happening. Unmedicated.
So...snap to it, little one.

One last little thing--

When the midwives were here, we covered the details of my planned birth.
Where I would go if I needed to be transferred to a hospital.
Any special requests of mine.
(The only request I had was that I did not want my other kids to be made to feel, one way or another, either pressured to attend the birth or not welcome. I'm far more concerned about the first with Chas. I do not want anyone to try and convince him to join us--if he comes, he comes on his own. And if he doesn't, no one makes a big deal of it.)
Who, if anyone, would be taking video or photography.
Which kind of brings me back to Chas.

Chas was strangely interested in our home visit which sort of surprised me.
I guess I was expecting him to hang out with Emily and his siblings outside but he sat right down at the table with us adults.
He also accompanied us to our bedroom where we went over the preparations that Daddy and I needed to make before their arrival and what to do in case of an emergency.
It was mentioned, at some point, that a sibling of yours might be a good choice for a photographer.
(I had said that I wanted both video and photos but that I did not want another person in the room so I was fine with whatever we managed to capture between Daddy and the midwives picking up the camera.)

I approached Chas alone the following day and inquired if he would be interested in this "job."
He was hesitant at first but as I laid it out for him, he seemed to be far more comfortable with the idea.

This is what I told him:
I understood his apprehension in being in the room, specifically in regards to me, and that he could stand at my head on the other side of the bed.
He'd be able to see you emerging but would not necessarily see much else.
"Use the zoom!" I told him :)

I also said that I was not necessarily planning on any birth photos anyway because in order to do so, I would really need to ask another person to join us and I didn't want to do that.
I wanted him to know that if he felt weird or wanted to leave at any time that I wanted him to just set the camera down and take off.
I would not, will not, be disappointed in "missing" any photos; I will simply be happy with what we are able to capture.

If he sticks around, wonderful.
And if he doesn't, that's wonderful, too.
Because the one thing he has told me time and time again is that he wants to meet you IMMEDIATELY after you are born.
So I know he'll be waiting at the door, even if he's not present at your birth.

I'm trying to come up with a few different birth scenarios that I hope will help me when it's truly "time."
The one I dread the most but think is most likely is a wee hours of the morning birth.
The one I hope for the most is a gorgeous afternoon birth.
Mostly, I just want things to go smoothly, for you to be strong and healthy, and for me to be able to find my inner strength and confidence and to put full faith in the trust I have in my own body to get us both through safely.

I have to admit that while I'm nervous, I am embracing the idea of experiencing the real deal from start to finish.
To come full circle.
On my own.
It's strangely empowering to sort of hand it over to my body's natural instincts and to trust that they will sync with yours and that without much thought or forced effort on either of our parts and with little intervention by anyone else, we will do this together.
Get you here, finally.

I smile just thinking of it.

Loving you already,
Mama

36 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-06-15T00:35:00.000-04:00

Your clothes are laundered and are waiting for you in my room.
I've got diapers and wipes and nursing cloths stashed away in various places around the house so that when you come, I've got everything I need everywhere.

Even if you take your sweet time getting here, it's only about a three week wait.
I can do three weeks.
Surely I can.
Sometimes I don't think I can do three more minutes but that's fleeting.

Part of me can't wait for your arrival and another part of me...is sad to see you go.
Despite all of the "hardships," I love being pregnant and I will miss your company.
I will miss our quiet and private existance together.
Once you arrive, you are everybody's baby.
Right now, you are mine.

The midwives were here tonight and we're all set for your birth day.
We know what to do and it's only a matter of waiting now for your cue.
"Lay low until Saturday," they told me.
I will.
I'm anxious but not overly so.
Not yet, anyway.

You're facing the wrong way, my love, so you need to flip around for me.
Tonight when Abby felt you, she thought for a minute that you were positioned breech which would NOT be a good thing.
But after a long baby massage, it was determined that you weren't, your head is just deep down and facing backwards, making it hard to feel.
If you are born this way, it's okay--it's just that the widest part of your head will come through first and that's not ideal for your mama.
Chas did this to me and I paid dearly.
But having had so many babies, I'm counting on my body to help us out if you don't turn.

Abby said, "Well, this could be a good thing for you. It will likely slow the birth."
But I don't want to slow your birth.
I want it to go fast.
Though she hasn't said it, I think she's worried that I might go too fast.
She reminded me again tonight, "I want advance warning. AS SOON AS YOU THINK, call me."

So give me some warning, okay?
No waking me in the middle of the night suddenly, bound and determined to make an entrance five minutes ago like your sister did.
We're ready for you but would like to NOT be the only hands on deck when it's show time.

Mama's tired.
I just wanted to jot you a quick note to say...I love you and am thinking about you constantly these days.
And I can't wait to meet you.

Loving you already,
Mama

35 Weeks, 6 Days

2010-06-10T23:32:00.000-04:00

I'm making progress and I'm moving fast.

This week, I have gathered for you a number of "new" sleeping gowns and at least one oatmeal-colored long-sleeved onesie (minus the snaps) that I plan to put you in immediately following your birth.

Or maybe you'll be in one of your sleeping gowns, I'm not totally sure yet.

I'm on the hunt for a sweet cap for your head, which would be a LOT cuter if I knew your gender because I could get a sweet one with a flower or a bow for a little girl or something more masculine for a boy.
And I don't want to buy two because...well, I just don't.
I'll doll you up gender-wise as soon as we know who you are :)

I'm studying up on birthing information and techniques and really trying to visualize how this will all come together.
Sometimes you apply so much pressure with your head that I wait a beat to see if you've broken your bag of water and then my stomach drops and I realize how quickly this could happen for us.

We are a week from our birth window.

And I am NOT PREPARED!!!

But like I said, I am making progress and moving fast.

I also started pulling out the sheet sets and towels that I need for your birthday.
I've applied Post-Its to all sets so that they're labeled for Daddy and the midwives.

The one that says "Birth Set" really hits home for me.

And I'll tell you, I can't even imagine your birth without crying.
They're not tears of fear or anxiety but rather tears of gratitude and excitement.
When I picture you in my arms finally, I just can't help it.
My eyes fill with tears and then I realize I'm driving down the road and those tears are just sliding down my cheeks.

I'm just so lucky and it doesn't escape my notice.
It's humbling, this whole birth experience.
And I'm grateful to have had this "extra" opportunity with you.
I say it that way because, and I know I mentioned this before, but you "number five" were never part of the Original Plan.
But I'm so happy that you've been added in.

Everything is supposed to be in place by Monday when the midwives arrive so we'll spend the weekend tying up some loose ends and making sure that if you decide to come in the early part of this window, that we're ready for you.

I feel ready mama-wise.
I'm completely ready to give up my sleep (have already, actually--the nights are misery for me) and to start my new full-time job of nursing you, and my God, I can't wait to hold you and kiss you and love you.

Just writing that brings tears!
HORMONES!!

But really, it's going to be so nice to see the new face of our family (four boys, one girl? two girls, three boys?) and to resume life.
Pregnancy tends to put a hold on regular life, I think, as a family sort of just waits for their new normal to begin.
I'm ready, super ready for that.

Now I've got to get to work on the rest of it.
It'll be a race to the finish, unless you're late.

Don't. You. DARE! :)

Loving you already,
Mama

35 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-06-07T23:21:00.000-04:00

What. Are. You. DOING IN THERE????
Listen to me!
There is nothing to see so stop turning your head!
There is nothing to do so stop trying to maneuver into new positions!
And PLEASE stop whatever is causing that burning sensation because I hate it and I hate it BAD.

For real.
You're scaring me.
You're like CREUX scaring me.
You've been so good and so relaxed and all of a sudden you are killing me.

When you turn your head and it rubs along the bottom of my pelvic floor, I gasp out loud and scare the crap out of people!
You can't make me do that in my condition because then everyone thinks I'm going to deliver you in their restaurant or their waiting room or in their store and they become HIGHLY uncomfortable in my presence.

I can feel your head, by the way.
Right above my pelvic bone, there's a soft, firm, slight bulge.
That's you.
Crazy.

I'm nesting like a fiend currently so I know we're in the homestretch.
And my contractions are nice and strong, not scarily so, but they've picked up considerably so we're in our groove now.

You could theoretically come, safely, in about a week.
A WEEK!
That's when I had Chas and oh my, he was so tiny.
But you're not tiny.
You are big and strong and squimy all of a sudden!

I opened your clothing totes tonight.
All manner of itty-bitty wondefulness in there...onesies and tiny caps and sweet sleeping gowns.
I pulled all of the neutral stuff out and then a few gender specific favorites, too.
I didn't want to wash everything I had for both sexes so I grabbed about a week's worth of clothes for each and then will launder the rest once I find out who you are exactly.

Once you started Creux-Scaring me, I checked the Chinese Baby Calendar just for fun.
It's said to be highly accurate but I don't really believe in that stuff.
I just wanted to see what it said.

Using my age and your conception month, the prediction is that you are a boy.
For what it's worth, I double checked each of your sibling's "predictions" as well and damn if they weren't all totally accurate.

Hmm, the plot thickens :)

At my last midwives appointment last week, I received my birth kit.
I didn't even look in it right away because I was sort of avoiding it.
Look, I know I've done this four times before already but it's still anxiety-provoking!

Anyway, a quick peek through it was like a walk down Memory Lane.
Big, big, giant pads.
Can't tell you how excited I was to see those things.
Big, really, unsexy netted undies for big, big, giant pads.
I can make fun now but they'll be like my favorite accessory after you arrive so I'm not going to.
Those things exist for a reason, that's all I'm going to say.
A few squirt bottles, blah, blah, blah....sterile gloves.
Sterile gloves?
What do I need those for?

It would seem that I don't but upon reading the little list detailing the contents of the box, I happened upon this:
"Sterile gloves''--for use of internal exams done by father.

I'm sorry.
For WHAT?
By WHOM??

I'd like to think that was a typo but I know better at this point.
This pregnancy has been all about being hands-on (I weigh myself, check my urine for protein, decide how and when and what I want done in regards to everything) but this crap just takes the cake!
And I know they mean it because we once had a conversation with the midwives that went a little something like this:

"Some women go their entire pregnancies without any form of internal manipulations."

(This was them, explaining to me that the choice for any internal poking was mine to make. If I wanted them to do one, (WHY would I ask for this, exactly?) they would but if not, they respected that as well.)

The conversation turned to late pregnancy checks for dilation and effacement, right about now for me.

"We can do those...or we can teach Charlie how to do it for you."

Oh, we laughed!
Silly women!
Like CHARLIE would be doing that, hahahahahaaaa!

Dead silence.

They were serious.
Entirely.

They were also smoking something.

I'm HAPPY to let your daddy deliver you (and that's the plan!) but there's no way that I'm letting him "figure out" how to tell if my cervix is dilated at all.
No. Friggin. Way.
I'd rather just guess at where I'm at and call it a day.

So those sterile gloves won't be necessary, thanks very, very much.

I'm hoping to write more frequently here in the coming days and weeks as we prepare together for your arrival.
I'd even like to journal to you during the first bit of my actual labor if I'm able.
I know I will be for awhile and it might help take my mind off of "things" until I'm at the point where I can't do that anymore.

I can hardly believe that you will be here so soon.
(But when? I love this part of it and hate it equally. I could have just ten days left or over 30!)

Loving you already (NOW SETTLE DOWN!),
Mama

34 Weeks, 4 Days

2010-06-01T22:54:00.001-04:00

I have fallen from grace.
Remember when I told you that the midwives said I was a "model patient?"
I don't think they feel that way any longer.

We went eight weeks between our appointment last week and the time before.
Part of it was due to our vacation--I'd scheduled a check-up the day before we were to leave but the midwives needed to change the time and we couldn't so we canceled.
So we had to schedule our next appointment for after the vacation and by then, we were six weeks out.
I couldn't do it the week we returned.
And I didn't want to do it last week due to a massively crazy schedule but in the end, I made an appearance, over 30 minutes late.
(They knew we'd be late. I wanted to cancel but they insisted that I come. So I came.)

That appointment was fast and to the point: I'm doing well, I'm retaining water, my hematocrit level is just high enough for a home birth (it needed to be 12 and it was EXACTLY 12--not bad for a girl who eats mainly veggies), my pelvic bones are sore and separating in preparation for your arrival, you measured almost right on schedule (just a bit ahead), your heartbeat is nice and strong, and I get my birth kit TOMORROW.

Since we had such an abbreviated appointment last week, we're going back in the evening but at this point in my pregnancy, we're supposed to be at two week intervals until week 37 and then weekly.
I'll be 35 weeks on Friday.
And I'm COMPLETELY freaking out.

The good news is that our nest is changing weekly and that's been a really important thing for me to get done before your arrival.
Already, I'm digging the space.
It's super cozy and clean and is coming together fast.
It's exactly what I envisioned.
All that's missing is you in the spot next to me in bed.
I looked at it today--this empty little place between daddy's pillow and mine and thought...soon.

I'm deteriorating fast, little one.
My wall definitely wasn't at 32 weeks after all but I think I'm quickly approaching it right now.
I'm tired, I pee ALL THE TIME, I'm emotional, I'm heavy.
My body aches.
You can't move either--you're just left attempting to stretch a bit here and there which is, I think, incredibly uncomfortable for the both of us.

I'm trying to hold strong and just take one day at a time but it's tough to just get around.
And I don't do anything without moaning.
It's annoying to even me, the moaner.

BUT.
We're almost just a month out!
It's so hard to believe that we're so close to the end--I honestly don't know where the time has gone.
And truth be told, I may be hitting my wall but I think I'm faring pretty well still.
The last few weeks are just misery and that's a given.
But I know it could be worse because I think it has been.

New:

I'm back to thinking you're a girl. It's been my gut feeling all along though I admit to waffling here and there but I keep coming back to that.
Both Greer and Creux say you're a sister, with Creux even speaking of you in terms of "she".
He's just potty-trained and he's very concerned about how you'll manage this.
"Will she wear diapers?" "Will she have clothes?"
He gets that you're coming and kisses my belly all the time.
You're not so abstract for him these day--when I say, "OW! That hurts the baby!" he leans over and says to you, "I sorry, baby."
He knows you're in there and I tell him that you can hear him.

Greer's the same way, she talks to you and sings to you all the time at night when we're in bed together.
She is so tickled by the thought of you listening in all the time.
Little eaves-dropper that you are :)

Rhyse doesn't talk to you so much but he does love to feel you move.
A lot of the time when you stir, I'll grab the hand of whoever is closest to me and let them feel you.
Greer and Rhyse are really fascinated by this event and their wide-eyed expressions and smiles make me laugh.
Which then makes you stop and listen.
You're pretty funny that way.
You'll be moving and stretching and if I speak out-loud, you'll stop and wait.
So these days, I usually whisper or wave someone closer to feel you so that you don't get spooked and stop what you're doing.

At the same time, you can be sleeping peacefully and if I holler loudly, you're up and you're up fast!
I definitely have the ability to wake you (as you do me).
Stinks, doesn't it? :)

Also new:

Out of left field, literally out of NOWHERE, comes a new baby girl name.
And I love it.
Actually, I'd registered it awhile back but it's one of those names that I needed to sit on for a bit before pretty nearly deciding that it might really be The One.

I tried a few baby name search engines the other night and found this: your Maybe Girl name has never been in the top 100.
In fact, it's never even been in the top ONE THOUSAND.
It's not common.
And it probably won't be universally loved.
Which makes it a really good choice for us :)
It's...well, I just love it.
And unless your daddy pulls a last minute veto on me, I think this is it.
It's not the name I originally chose for you and was almost certain would be yours.
That's not necessarily out of the question yet but I don't think it's my favorite at this point.
I've heard it a bit more than I'd have liked recently (along with your Maybe Boy name which is also under fire at the moment) and while neither are common, I think both have the potential to be.

The middle name for Maybe Girl You is not something most people will have heard either but it goes great with the first.
Negotiations are underway (nightly as I push for closure) but I'm feeling really good about this.

If you're a boy, then...I'm not sure yet.
I'm hoping that something will cross my path in the same manner as the Maybe Girl name--where I'll see it and go, "Heeeeey. Maybe?? Like really maybe?"
Sleeping on things helps me a ton, too, which is why I really need to get these names sorted out quickly.
Having slept on the girl name, I woke up excited which told me that I was on the right path for sure.
I'll find something similar for you should you be a boy.
I'm working on it.

One last new thing:

I'm pouring over my home birth information booklet, starting to prepare myself for what's to come.
Back when I was supposed to chart when I first felt you move every single day for a week, going five months from that point (which is when the midwives said birth often occurs), we're looking at the week of June 19.
Certainly every pregnancy is different but going from my last two, where I was almost to-the-day 40 weeks, I'm not planning on this.
But realistically, I should be pretty ready by week 37 which is when you'll be considered full-term and every day becomes a potential birthday.
That's two weeks from now.
GULP.

Reading and researching and gathering information always makes me feel better so in some ways, this is how I'll help prepare myself for your birth.
Obviously I've done this before so it's not completely a crash course in anything.
But I'll be relying on something I've never really relied so heavily upon before: myself.
Yeah, there will be people here to assist me but in the end, I'm going to have to get myself through this.
At the end of the day, it's my situation to own.
I'm excited about that and, at the same time, shaking in my flip flops.
Before, I just had to make sure I got myself to the hospital in time.
Now, I have get myself through "on my own" and the more prepared I feel, the better I'll do.

Things are really coming together though and I can feel the subtle change in my own personal atmosphere telling me that it's almost "time."
I no longer worry about how you'll fit here; you'll just fit.
I'm suddenly more emotional in the sense of saying goodbye to this normal as I open my heart and mind to the new one.
I hug Creux a little tighter because as soon as you arrive, I will look at him and say, "My God, you're huge. You're like seven, aren't you?"
He will be different in my eyes and his position in the family will shift more dramatically than the others.
So many thoughts that come to mind revolve around you--swinging tonight outside I thought, "The weather is really nice after 7:30 so it'll be the perfect time to bring the baby out then. We can sit here and swing together, nurse, watch the older ones play."
There are suddenly a million thoughts and images running through my head like this.

And all of the things I've been putting off--like hauling out the baby clothes and blankets and ordering the few things that I think you'll need have suddenly moved to the top of my to-do list.
That's a milestone right there as I NEVER get into that stuff until I absolutely have to.
Washing a load of laundry that contains clothing just a bit bigger than the size of my hand brings crazy baby lust my way.
I'm not into self-torture so I wait until the last minute.
I can't wait until week 39 just in case you do come early so I've kind of almost run out of time for that sort of stuff.
I need to get it out, get it ready, and let it sit.

Won't be long now.

Loving you already,
Mama

32 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-05-17T22:56:00.000-04:00

Oh, I have been negligent, haven't I?
Well, if it makes you feel any better, it hasn't come without a dose of guilt.
And yes, I know you will not tolerate this behavior upon your arrival.
Perhaps that's why I've been quiet--because I KNOW you won't tolerate it later but right now, you're still content to share me.

We had a wonderful vacation, the almost seven of us!
You're nearly fully countable these days because, after that nine hour stint of walking around Disney, I can honestly say that I'm dragging around a near full-term infant strapped to my belly.
That was HARD!
I kept imagining taking you off and handing you over to Daddy for a bit, just so I could stretch my back and feel that lightening of your load.
Mmmm, but there's no lightening, not yet.
In fact, it's only getting worse...

So it would seem that maybe, just maybe, right around the 32 week mark is when it starts to just all-around suck in general, pregnancy-wise.
Maybe it wasn't Creux.
Because I think it's you, too.
(Though I also think I'm faring a little better--I'm not beyond coping just yet.)

I don't feel great, honestly.
You're heavy, I'm heavy, I can't sleep at night or during the day for that matter so I'm tired, I pee every five minutes and 17 seconds, the ligaments between my legs are screaming as they start to loosen for your soonish arrival, my feet are fat, my hands are swollen, my pre-you contractions are outrageously intense, and I'm STILL gaining weight.
And the waddling thing is just annoying.

But I'm somewhere around a month and half from holding you.
That makes up for everything.

Though...can I just complain for a minute more and then I'll move on?
Because I need to get this off my chest and Daddy is tired (way tired) of hearing me.

First of all, I think you should know that J. Crew is prejudiced against chicks with fat feet.
I didn't even KNOW you could be too fat for flip-flops but you can--I have the friggin marks in my skin to prove it.
So, maybe we shouldn't shop there anymore, hmm?

And, this has been the most annoying thing ever: apparently pregnant women are not to be seen in bikinis.
Why do I think this?
Because I scoured the city and the Internet looking for a cute maternity bikini in which to show you off in at the beach.
And I ended up at VICTORIA'S SECRET.
Yes, with all of the normal people staring at me, probably imagining (in horror) that I actually there to buy lingerie or something when really, I just needed some darn black bikini bottoms that fit.
Okay, and a top.
("Do you have this in a medium," I asked the sales girl who stood staring at me open-mouthed as I dangled the bikini off my finger. "Because I think I need a medium," I said. I originially thought she was staring at me like that due to just my being pregnant and outrageous enough to set foot in the store but after I tried on the medium, I realized that she just already knew I was a large and couldn't believe I'd managed to convince myself otherwise. Little snot.)

I tried the massive maternity store, the like only stinkin' place in town to buy anything right now, and though they combined four stores in one, NONE of them offered a bikini.
If I wanted to cover myself in a burka, well, that I could find.
But I don't want to wear so much material to the beach that I need directions on how to get it on and off.
I don't do "big" well.
The bottoms offered with the tankinis (the CLOSEST thing I could get to a bikini, by the way) have so much fabic that they need to be hiked up to my chin.
U-G-L-Y.
And I simply refuse.

So I braved Victoria's Secret.
And was pissed about it.
Why shouldn't I wear a bikini?
Why wouldn't at least ONE be offered for me at a maternity store?
Why must I shop at the one place in town that I currently do not want to step one pudgy little foot into in order to just feel like myself at the pool?
(Seriously am planning a bonfire with the 45,679 catalogs that sneak their way into my mailbox like every other day.)
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
One of these days, when I have gobs of free time (snicker) I am going to design a whole line of cute bikinis for mamas like me who don't feel like they should have to hide beautiful bellies behind yards of fabric.

Now, come August I will HAPPILY take that tankini, one in every color, thanks very much.
But right now, we're in full bloom.
And I say, bloom away, baby....

I honestly can't believe how close we are to finally meeting officially!
It seems just like yesterday that I was so sick with you.
(And I can still remember the last time I vomited-- it was the beginning of January, the Harmons were here, we had pizza, and they searched for a movie online at Blockbuster while I heaved into the potty. See? Remember.)

I know technically we have about seven and a half weeks left and I am really kind of banking on that but you'll come when you're ready and I can't possibly begin to imagine when exactly that will be.
That's one of the best parts, you know!
Just the surprise of the moment.
I know if I went to a regular doctor, I could probably have you here when I wanted you here.
With you being my fifth and with what they'd likely find at my internal exams, they'd probably push for me to schedule your birth a week in advance.
(I tend to make people nervous just dilating away like I do.)
And if I wanted to, I could probably push them to go just a day or so earlier than they'd like so you could be my birthday present.
(I am a pushy broad--I grew up being told that if someone said "No" to me than I was asking the wrong someone. It stuck, what can I say?)

But I don't want any part of that.
I want you to come when you're finished growing, when my body has fully served its purpose, and when you're ready to face this crazy @$$ home you're about to reside in.
(Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I've apologized for this before. Hopefully you're slightly accustomed to all the noise just from listening from where you are right now but YEESH, it's loud here. Sorry again.)

I'm ready, I think, to start really preparing for you.
We need to finish our bedroom and that's something that is just going to take a bit of time.
But we sort of realized that we need a new pack-n-play crib thingy over this vacation and I found one that I think would attach to our bed so perhaps you could have your own sleeping space right there next to me.
I don't know what you'll think about that in the end but since we need a new one anyway, I'm okay with trying it because...we've got lots of little night snugglers still.
I can't have them and you in my bed at the same time--it's far too dangerous for my liking.
But it stinks to tell them to leave when I know that they want to cuddle.
(Oh, and they do. Both your brother and sister climb into bed, whisper "Hi, Mama" and mold themselves right into me and sigh happily, immediately drifting off to sleep, little arms wrapped somewhere around my expansive self.)
So safety-wise I like the idea of this Plan B.
And if you say no, that you want to sleep curled up with me every night and don't want to share with the night snugglers, then that's what will happen.
(See, these are the perks of being the baby--everyone caters to your wishes.)

I think we're going to try some new diapers for you--some cozy-looking cloth ones and we'll see how that goes. I've been wanting to do this for ages but have just feared the additional workload.
(You can't possibly imagine the laundry generated by six people, much less a seventh, and if you ever find yourself with a) a wife in this spot, I will encourage you to purchase for her montly massage treatments and b) find yourself in this spot, I will come over and help you because I know the load. I KNOW THE LOAD.)

I think we've also settled on how we want your birthday to go-- meaning, we know who we want here with your siblings. I've thought long and hard about who I want around because I'm quite particular about these kinds of things and I believe that I've made the best choice for everyone involved. It's really, really important to me that the person here is here only for your siblings. I do not want interest in your birth pulling someone from taking care of the others because if I feel like that's going on, I will not be able to relax. I need to trust that my others are in very good hands and that I can focus soley on what's going on with me and with you.
I do not want anyone else around--not until I feel like I'm ready to share you and that's not going to be an immediate, you've-been-here-for-five-minutes type of thing.

I have a very clear vision of how I want your first hours to go and they mainly involve you, me, your daddy...and your siblings, who will be free to come and go as they choose.
Of course, we'll have the midwives here for several hours both before and after your arrival and our Special Guest (that's what we'll call her!) will be here too helping with everyone else.
And I know that my family has been disappointed in the past to not be invited to attend the birth's of your siblings and unfortunately nothing is going to change this time around as far as that's concerned.
It's just not something that I'm comfortable with and so, it will be a very private matter, but it also needs to be addressed and I'm really not looking forward to that part of it.
I don't want to make either my family or Daddy's feel unwelcome; at the same time, I need to make sure that I respect my own boundaries and I know right now what I want and don't want and feel like I should be as upfront as possible so there aren't any misunderstandings in the moment.

What else?
(I love making these lists for you.)

I can feel you turning your head on my pelvic floor and it's the only movement you have left that can make me gasp out loud.

My contractions are strong enough sometimes that I can almost see and feel the outline of you.

I regularly watch you move in my belly, the strange little dance you do. It reminds me of "the wave" being done at sporting events.

We're not settled on your name. And we're not even really talking about it because we, for whatever reason, are delusional in thinking that we have "plenty of time left." We don't. We need to figure this out within the next month.

Our midwives will be coming in just a few weeks for our home visit. That sends a lightening bolt of panic down my spine because it means that we'll actually be setting plans in motion for your arrival. Gulp.

I am scared and am definitely second-guessing this whole "pain-free" thing I'm planning to do. I am not second-guessing a home birth, want it bad and am so very happy we are on this path, but in the moment of one of those strong contractions, I stare off into space while mouthing, "Ow, ow, ow" repeatedly and think to myself, "Girl, what in the hell are you doing?"

I'm as confused on your gender as I've ever been. All along I've suspected that you're a girl but I waffle back and forth. I think you might just be my Chill Baby though. Meaning, you're good in there. You play but you don't attack. Thank you for that.

My ability to imagine you here in my life has profoundly shifted. I see you everywhere, know the awe I will feel at your tinyness, remember the constant need for feedings, the night-time wakings, how your whimpers and wails will bring me to my knees with love and the desire to just make your world right again.
Quickly.

I strangely am starting to look forward to the constant need for feedings and night-time wakings.
Some of my favorite memories with my newborns have been in those quiet hours when I'm awake nursing and am able to truly just relish every bit of babyness in my arms.
And I don't have to share you with anyone right then.

I'm excited to be a mommy again.
That's the most important thing you should know.

Loving you already,
Mama

29 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-04-26T23:55:00.002-04:00

I'm looking at pictures of you.
It's the strangest thing, really.
Here I have nearly 60 photos from our last ultra-sound shoot and it's of this face that...I don't know.
I can sit in the privacy of my own home and literally study you.
I have shots of your hands and your ears and your nose and I'm just sitting here trying to put them all together.

It's very surreal.

Your face, the contours of which are now unfamiliar to me, will soon be one that I could pick out from hundreds of babies by touch alone.
I will know every curve, every inch just about as well as I know my own.
I can close my eyes right now and bring up Rhyse's face and truthfully say that I know every bit of it.
Every. Single. Bit.

But for now, I look at you curiously.
Trying hard to see the familial resemblance, of which I couldn't see at first.
Last time we saw you, I was left with the impression of Chas as a newborn.
Tonight I commented during the ultrasound that I couldn't see much resemblance at all to anyone.

Having left the photos for awhile, I just returned to them a few minutes ago and pulled one up and thought,"Rhyse."
You looked like him to me just then which leads me directly to Creux because those boys are nearly identical, especially when comparing them at the same ages.

Your hands are big, this I can tell.
More mitts.
Those are from your dad's side of the family.
Mitts and hooves.
My side of the family is long-legged and lean.
Daddy's is not :)
Short legs and long torsos, that's the Martin thing.

We're two for two, there.
Chas and Greer take after me, Rhyse and Creux like Daddy.
I wonder where you'll fit in?

Here's something I think about a lot and perhaps it's a strange thing:
It's your eye color.
You were peeking tonight, just a bit here and there and I thought...I wonder if those will be blue like your dad's or green like mine?

Out of all four of your siblings, there's only one green-eyed babe and it's Rhyse.
Chas has the bluest of blues (another Martin characteristic) while Greer is blue too...if you look closely in her eyes, you can see a rim of me there.
A small circle of green, outlining her pupil, before the whole thing just lights up into brilliant blue.

My eye color is my absolute favorite trait and one that I've always felt has sort of set me apart a little bit.
It's the rarest color passed down and only 2-5% of the world's population has them.
I looked it up once, because I wanted to know how recessive they are as a trait.
They are very recessive.
So...I think that makes them very cool :)

My greens come from my own father and though I do not have any contact with him, on occasion I see my cousins from that side of the family.
All long-legged, skinny women with striking green eyes.
It's always been a bit off-putting to me in a way to see such a strong resemblance of my own to family that I don't really know.
But who look A LOT like me.
My hands, my eyes, my build all pulled together in a smattering of people that are family but are removed family.
Most people think I look like my mother but that's because that's who they see.
I think I look more like my dad and I definitely look a lot like his sister's grown children, those cousins of mine.
Which is....complicated.

So for me, staring into Rhyse's green eyes is as close as it gets to really seeing a true piece of me passed along.
I don't see that on a regular basis; I don't see my dad or my cousins and have the opportunity to notice those small things that signify that we are genetically related.
And maybe because my eye color is so rare to cross and yet because it's so not in the "other" part of my lineage or maybe it's because it is something that I identify with as "me" so strongly...it's something that just tickles me to see in one of my own children.

Either way, you win.
You'll have the clearest, bluest of blues that will be nearly blinding in the sunlight.
Or you'll have glittering greens that will flare brilliantly with the passion of your feelings.
(Your Memaw has always commented on how mine would flash crazily when we would argue over boys or curfew or why I'm not wearing the super cute, super short skirt I had just bought WITH MY OWN MONEY.)

(And she was almost always right, by the way. Completely annoying but right. So don't bother flashing your blues OR greens at me over issues of those kind, either. I am not swayed by a pretty set of eyes--and neither was she, let me tell you!)

As for the rest of you....

We were told to look away right from the start so the tech could get a good once-over without you announcing your gender to the room.
You weighed in at two pounds and 13 ounces, length 16 inches long.
Using some formula, the tech projected your birth weight to be eight pounds, five ounces and length at 19 inches.
That's big for me but big is suddenly the average.
Rhyse was eight pounds, two ounces and Creux was eight pounds, eleven and a half ounces.
And Creux, just mere ounces more, was enormously more uncomfortable to carry than Rhyse.
(Greer was near perfect at seven pounds, 14 ounces and poor Chas was like a bag of potato chips at five pounds, eleven ounces.)

Annoyingly, your measurements indicate an arrival date of JULY ELEVENTH.
What in the hell is going on with you, child?
First it's the 8th, which is what is correct if we're going by conception date.
I think.
But it could be the 9th if you took awhile processing or whatever it is that you do when you're deciding how to split your cells up and make yourself whole.
However, the 11th is OUT OF THE QUESTION.

"I'm not going to change your due date at this point," said the ultrasound lady.
Yeah, no kidding you're not.
I'll go stark raving mad if my date switches again and KEEPS HEADING BACKWARDS.

When people ask me when I'm due, I say "Early July" because I don't want to pin my hopes on one day.
But I'd be lying through my teeth if I didn't admit that I'll go a smidgey bonkers if I pass the 9th.
(Oh, don't be cruel. Do not pass the 9th. Do you need a calendar in there?)
We're just going to be optimistic here and press for June.
I realize I sound like a broken record.
I don't care.
I really will be climbing the walls if I end up laboring for the entire last month like I normally do, breathing through working contractions for weeks on end, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any given moment only to watch that number nine come...and go....with no infant to be found.

Look, you don't want to do that.
I wrote those words and even just writing them, I had a reaction, a bad one.
I can't say in what condition you will find me in when you finally arrive.
I perish the thought.

Okay, enough for tonight.
It was so nice to see you again this evening.
For the last time (I said this once before but really, THAT was the last time) before you're "here."

You're beautiful and I truly get the statement "love at first sight."
I've loved you all along, even before I knew of your creation.
But seeing you like that, your small bitty bits, your mouth opening and closing, your hands touching your face, trying to find your mouth, and your smile....you lit up my heart.

I can't wait to be your Mama.
Officially.

Loving you already,
Mama

28 Weeks, 5 Days

2010-04-22T00:44:00.000-04:00

Something's changed.
In one day, something has majorly changed.
And it does NOT feel good to me!

I noticed it yesterday, on Tuesday.
I woke up, got dressed, started my morning.
What I wore is significant because it fit...and then it didn't.
A white Gap shirt and a plaid button down (one that I searched for for AGES in the stores because I just thought you'd look so bumpishly cute in it), plus my black yoga pants.

I'm still fighting the maternities.
I simply do not want to wear them.
But I have caved slightly.
There's a shopping bag in my closet with seven tank tops and two pairs of pants, all still wrapped in tissue paper.
Why am I battling this so much?
Can't say, really.
But the point here is this: that white shirt and plaid button down fit when I put them on in the morning.

And by the time I went to bed, you were hanging out the bottom of the t-shirt.

More importantly, I can feel the change.
Whereas I was a rather fast waddler, I am now...hobbling.
Slow and lurching.
Not. Sexy.
Don't get me wrong, I'm almost seven and a half months pregnant so my sexy days are sort of on-hold indefinitely but still.
Not. Sexy.

Certainly, you grew.
But I'm hoping that what I'm feeling is a temporary adjustment.
Because, good grief, I can't be approching my wall yet.
I still have possibly 11 weeks left.
So...we need to work this out.

You're hurting me, too.
What are you doing in there?
It feels like you're crawling.
I know I've said that before.
But you're like, BUSY, doing something all the time.
Not necessarily kicking, though you do that too.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were knitting or something, your hands and elbows flying all over the place in constant, repetitive motion.

You're up now.
It's 12:30 and I'm tired.
But you're knitting and I can't sleep when you're doing that.
You've been the first one up the past few mornings, too--waking before the others come storming in.
So I'm awake while you mess around doing whatever it is that you do and then I realize that you're using my bladder as a pillow and I have to go pee and then we're BOTH really up...sigh.

You are predictably woken, too.
A loud noise, a sudden laugh from me, today a whack to the belly with a soccer ball (RHYSE!).
Seconds later, I'll feel your first jerk...and then you go knitting for half an hour.

My contractions have picked up and they hurt.
Nothing scary and regular, just warm-ups that, if they are any indication of how your birth will go, are telling me that I'm in deep crap.
I don't think I'm going to get the whole, "Oh, I sit out on the porch swing and labor, watching the kids chalk draw rainbows on the driveway while I serenely focus on my breathing" type of labor.
I think I'm in deep crap.
I think it's going to go really fast and it's going to be really wickedly painful.

These "warm-ups" are sort of scaring me just a bit.
They make me remember what it feels like.
Pregnancy is weird like that--you tend to forget the pain, the actual feel of the pain, for some reason.
Even the morning sickness that I had, already I'm like, "It wasn't THAT bad, was it?"
Yes.
It was.
It was the most horribly awful thing I've endured long-term and yet...poof!
People ask if I'll have another post-you baby.
Right after that, I swore not.
But then I forget the bad.
And I think of not ever having a newborn again and I go..."Welllll...."

It's sort of the same thing with labor, the forgetting.
Ironically it is NOT that way with a root canal :)

I'm hoping that by this weekend maybe I'll be back to feeling so superb and moving like a human and not a snail.
I don't want to hit that point yet.
It's too early.
IT'S TOO EARLY.

So...find your room, take what you need...and then scoot over.
I can't breathe, your feet PLUS an organ are jammed in my ribs, and now my back hurts all the time.

How's June 25 sounding to you?
July is a whole different set of four letters.
And, dear God, it's a whole three weeks more than June 25.
You'll be full-term.

Think about it.

Loving you already Space Hogger,
Mama

27 Weeks, 4 Days

2010-04-13T23:41:00.000-04:00

I am the model patient.
I swear, that's what they told me.
"They" being our midwives.

That certainly felt good to hear, especially after they picked through my diet with a fine-toothed comb.
I've been handed homework (actually I MISSED turning in this homework from a month ago so really, I am not quite the model patient they believe me to be :))--a week's worth of food diarying.
Yeesh.
I eat well and all but it's still weird to hand over such...intimate...information!
(It doesn't sound intimate but I assure you, it is when it's being scrutinized.)

My only trip-up is my darn coffee consumption.
I have two a day--one in the morning and one in the evening.
They initially asked me to cut back, slowly to one and then to none.
So I wouldn't have a "jittery baby" come July.
I scowled, I couldn't help myself.
I love my coffees and really, I am quite conscientious about what else I am consuming so as not to add any more "junk" into my daily diet.
"But we don't want YOU to be jittery either so...just do the best you can," Abby told me.

I assured them that I would not be jittery.
I would be asleep.
I can not function without a hit of caffeine.
My days are too long and hard and...long and hard.

I didn't have any caffeine with you until about month five as you simply would not allow it, even if it were the only beverage in all the land.
But as I started to return to myself, I picked that up again just a bit.
And I don't always have an entire cup and I almost always drink about a gallon of water after each time I do in the attempt to dilute and quickly flush it from my body.
(Look at me justifying!)

But in the end, after asking me what else I drink in a day's time, I was given a pass.
"What else do you drink?" Abby asked me.
"Water."
"Anything else?"
"Just water."
"Any colas? Diet drinks? Carbonated anythings?"
"Nope. Just...water."
Pause.
"Okay then, I feel comfortable with your coffee."
Whew. THAT was a close one.

Everything looks great with both of us!
You're somewhere around two and half pounds at this point (pork chop!) and measured big this time!
At my visit, I was about 26 weeks and 5 days and you clocked in with a 28 week measurement.
The month before you'd been just a smidge small so you had a terrific growth spurt in those four weeks!

We will be seeing you again after all, and considering my last post, I'm a bit nervous about this one.
Previously discussed had been the issue of my retained placentas after delivery and so they're just wanting to get a peek at where it is right now and so I'll need another ultrasound next week.
If it's grown into scar tissue, it could be problematic for me. (Read: extremely painful.)

But I also had a bad bleeding issue with Greer during the onset of labor that, honestly, I never batted an eye at until reviewing my labor in full detail with the midwives earlier in this pregnancy.
Like I tend to do, I awoke with a start in bed at around 4:30-5:00 in the morning and was in full-on, hard-core labor.
And I was bleeding which was a new thing for me but I was REALLY in labor, far worse than I'd ever been before at home before heading to the hospital and I just chalked it up to...full-on, hard-core labor.
But it turns out that really, truly bleeding like I was might not actually be a totally normal thing (I swear, I was in so much pain, it barely registered though I do remember it and in hindsight sort of wonder why I blew it off so quickly) and could also signal a potential problem with where my placentas tend to lie.

I'm really excited to see you again though.
Nervous because of that gender dream but really excited to maybe get another glimpse of what you look like these days.

I feel...magnificent.
I definitely feel some of the late pregnancy aches and pains (my back is really starting to hurt from over-compensating for my big belly) and other than the usual "I'm tired" stuff--I really feel great.
We're just days away from our seventh month together and I've officially started my third and final trimester.
The time is flying and each day that I feel this wonderful, I feel very grateful for.

You are all over the place these days which is unbelievably cute.
You're awake a lot and for long periods of time (at night, I can see the sheets jump as you shift and kick--it's quite amusing, really) but you also sleep deeply a lot and for long periods of time.
You seem to wake when we all do in the morning, even if I'm not up yet but if/when my bed starts filling up with children who would like me to be up.
You're just one of that gang in there!

There's far less kicking (though you do sneak in some good ones now and again) and far, far more...crawling, churning, turning, shifting, twisting.
You like to lie on your left side, upside down; I can feel your tiny bottom and I get lots of little-foot action on the right side of my own body.
When you do kick, it's in a series--almost never just once now.
I remember those first few times I felt you, how I'd have to lie super still and there'd be just one quick, tiny tap and then...you were gone.
Now if you're in a kicking mood, it'll be ten minutes of pounding while I lay in bed staring at the ceiling wondering when you'll get tired and fall back asleep :)
(And that's not a complaint--I'm totally giggling while I'm staring at the ceiling and am usually poking back at you. Unless I'm really tired. Then I just wait because there's nothing else I can do. Am trapped, I tell you.)

Oddly enough, I have pinned down my birth sheet set which I rummaged up from the back of the linen closet this week.
I need a set to have on the bed, a set that I obviously do not care if they look as if they've been at a murder scene and then another set that the midwives will change for me while I shower (if they can wrangle you from my arms--I am LOATHE to part with my newborns, even FOR a shower) so I can get back into a clean bed with you right away.

It's sort of strange as this stuff starts to become a little bit more real for me.
(We touched on my "Birth Kit" a bit at this appointment so I could start preparing.)
Let me be clear on this point: I am scared.
Oh yes, I am definitely reconsidering the wiseness of this choice and it has everything to do with my fear of pain and nothing to do with anything else.
It does not matter (for me) how many times I've "done this" because it hurts and hurts bad every single time.
If I can rise above that fear and the pain, then I think this will be the most amazing experience.
If I can't, then I think I'm going to be in big, big trouble.
So we're just going to go with the "I can" route until I notify myself that "Whoops! Misjudged that one!" and by that time, it will be too late anyway.
But maybe I can convince someone to knock me out and put me (and everyone) out of my misery.
I'm quite convincing when I want to be :)

You're asking for an apple and some peanut butter which is just terrific as it's like midnight and all I want to do is sleep but it seems that I'll be slicing a darn apple up instead.
Oh well.
Could be worse, right?
Like you could want, say, a Twinkie.
Which sadly sounds amazingly tempting suddenly.
I better go make that apple before I end up sending you-know-who on a midnight crack food run.

Loving you already,
Mama

26 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-04-05T22:53:00.000-04:00

I had the most vivid dream about you last week.
I meant to jump on here and record it immediately but I didn't though it doesn't matter.
I still remember it so clearly.

We had gone in for another ultrasound, one last little peek at you.
And I was laying there, while they were taking pictures and I was so excited to see you again.
You were much bigger than you were just six weeks ago when we saw you last and this time, you weren't shy.

Though the techs knew that we didn't want to know your gender, there was an accident.
Or in my dream, I think I thought it was almost intentional.
I'm not really sure why; maybe because we'd been so adamant about NOT knowing who you were that I couldn't believe that someone made such an incredible mistake.

These ultrasound photos that they took, they tossed up onto an illuminated box, exactly how they would do it in order to read an x-ray.
The whole of you lit up immediately and I could see your face so clearly (you looked identical to the one good photo we were able to get in our last real ultrasound session where you looked just like Chas) and just as I was sitting up and exclaiming with delight, my eyes trailed downward and there, before the world, you presented your gender.
As plain as day.

You were a girl.

And I was so completely thrown, excited and PISSED--I remember my stomach dropping at the sight of your girly bits and my sheer joy to be expecting another daughter but I also was throwing a major fit because (and this is what I kept saying), "I wanted that surprise!"
I wanted that surprise in the moment, the realization of your gender, and though I'll love you either way, I think I'd be truly tickled for another girl.

Let me explain because that might sound bad.
I don't want you to think I prefer one gender over another.
I don't.
I do not.
I once thought I did, I really wanted Chas to be a girl because I have NO boys on my side of the family--I didn't grow up with any brothers or even a father around so his maleness was totally foreign to me.
But that changed instantly (of course it did, the second I held him--he could have been an alien, I was that smitten) and it's been the same for me ever since.
I rather like having all these boys.
But I sure am glad to have my Greer.

Take for example, what happened yesterday, which actually sparked a gender conversation between your dad and I.
Memaw had taken Chas, Rhyse and Greer out for the afternoon to give us some time to prepare dinner and to get ready for our Easter egg hunt.
They'd been gone for awhile when the phone rang.
My caller ID said it was Chas so I picked up quickly.

"Hi!"
"Hi. Is Dad there? Can I talk to Dad?"
(Pause)
"Um, yes, he's here." (Pause) "Is everything ok?"
I thought maybe something was wrong and he didn't want to tell me first because he knew I'd freak out.
Oh, how wrong I was!
"No, nothing's wrong. I got new roller blades and I wanted to tell him."
(Pause.)
(Pause.)
(Pause.)
"Oh! Oh, wow, ok. Hold on, I'll get him."

Those pauses?
That was me processing the fact that I am not necessarily the preferred parent anymore for my oldest boy.
It's a given that through childhood, Mama is just...well, just about everything.
The sun rises and sets with Mama.
At least in this house, that's the way it is; the way it's always been.
But his call startled me in a way that I didn't much like.
He wasn't calling to share his news with ME, he was calling to share it with his dad.
And I don't mean to make it sound like I don't appreciate that relationship between them; oh, how I do.
I love that they grow closer as the years go by.
But I felt...left out.

I came downstairs a little while later and lamented to your daddy.
"This family needs some balance because you have ALL THESE BOYS and they're going to grow up and be your best friends--you'll all be hanging out in the basement drinking beer and playing pool while I drive Greer nuts because she's my only daughter and the only one I can truly relate to in this family full of MEN!"

"No, you won't," he said, which started to sound sweet until he added, "because Greer will be down there drinking beer and playing pool with us!"
Over. My. Dead. Body.
She will be shopping and mani/pedi'ing it with me or else I will go off my ROCKER.
I need some girl in this family.

And so, there you have it.
If you're a boy, welcome to the damn party, son. You've come to the right place.
And if you are a girl, thank you, thank you, thank you for even-ing things up a bit around here!

One thing's for sure, whoever you are, you are growing by leaps and bounds every week it seems!
Luckily, I still feel terrific and I'm hoping to ride this wave of wonderfulness for as long as I possibly can because once it starts to go downhill, it won't come back up again until you arrive.
I remember my "point" with Creux was at 32 weeks.
It was downhill from there and it was a looooong way to week 39 (and 5 days).
But you don't seem as big as he was, even now (though I may eat those words at 32 weeks when I'm convinced that I'm ready to deliver you from all the pressure and aches and pains) and you are definitely more relaxed.
(PLEASE don't make me eat those words!)

Somehow a whole month has passed and it's time for our midwives appointment tomorrow!
I'm looking forward to the visit--I always am.
Though I think...the next time I come, I will be THIRTY WEEKS.
Wow!
Just one more month and we'll truly be in the homestretch, with you able to safely arrive just seven weeks after that point.
Maybe that sounds long but a week passes in a blip for me.
Especially right now, with our lives as busy as they are.

I feel like I'm in some wicked spin cycle and I'm going to be dumped out at the end of May, when school ends, when soccer stops, when summer officially begins.
That's really scary to me because I feel like I do actually have a lot I need to take care of before you arrive and right now, I barely have time to shower.
We still have a major renovation to do with my bedroom and a big vacation looming, plus our weekends have been sucked up by sporting obligations which leaves...June.
Exactly where I DIDN'T want to find time for your stuff.
I wanted to be done by June.
I don't think it's going to happen but...we'll see.
I guess so long as we're ready by early July, it'll be fine in the end.

I need to make some firm decisions in the next little while...your name (am pretty solid on your Maybe Girl, am waffling on your Maybe Boy), to circ or not circ (nothing like a SMALL detail like that to chew on), I need to choose your diapers (am I going cloth?--maybe), buy you something sweet and cozy for your first night here, decide on my sling, etc. etc. etc.
Just...stuff.
Stuff that's cluttering my head and making me feel like I'm starting to run behind schedule.
I'm not--not yet but I'm starting to toe the line if I want to relax in June.
And I really want to relax in June.

I'm carrying you very high which isn't unusual and not significant of anything except that's how you babies fit in my body. Some people look and say, "boy" or "girl" but it's never seems to make a difference to my body.
At the end of the day, I'm starting to feel a lot of pressure on my pelvic floor and at times I can feel you turning your head.
It almost tickle hurts.
That's the best way I can describe it.
You're still tapping away in there and surprisingly, I'm not terribly uncomfortable right now.
I'm slower for sure, have perfected the waddle, can barely get up off the floor without pulling down a bookcase in order to help me up, and would really, really, really like to not gain another ounce but other than all that....I feel amazing :)

Thanks for being so good to me.
It almost makes up for how much I wanted to die back in weeks 7-13 :)
(I said almost. You are not totally off the hook yet for that stunt. I'm banking on the whole Chill Baby thing and then you'll be cleared of all wrong-doing. I will not delete the entries just so you know how miserable I was and that should translate to how much I love you but I will not hold it over your head.
For too long ;))

Loving you already,
Mama

25 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-03-29T23:34:00.001-04:00

I really hate when a whole week goes by without my recording something for you.
It's just that I know when I hop on here that I need a decent chunk of time and so...I guess I struggle to find that!

We've been on a roller coaster, you and I.
Well, not literally, more figuratively.
I'll tell you about that in a second but first let me rave for a bit.

You are being a very good little baby! I'm back to thinking you are a girl because you really are actually quite accomodating and somewhat seem to be attempting to split the space with me 50/50. You may be a boy, clearly I don't have a clue since I keep flipping back and forth, but so far you seem...manageable :)
It's early days still, though.
Because you aren't trying to body slam your way out of my belly just gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, you're my Chill Baby, gender unimportant.
(Please?)

My wardrobe is dwindling.
Other than the few new things I bought for you the other week, I'm packing my regular clothes away with surprising frequency. I like things in basics--basic cuts and basic colors and two days ago, I pulled on one of my favorite basic black, fitted t-shirts from Gap and you stuck out the bottom all day long, like the pregnant woman's almost-socially-appropriate version of the tacky "plumber's crack."
Anyway, how I didn't notice that when I initially pulled it on, I can't quite explain.
But all day long, I was tugging my shirt down over the growing orb that is my tummy.
Or that is YOU in my tummy.
You're very cute and round, the World's Most Perfect Ball of Love.
I can definitely feel your bits these days, as you'll poke them out and sort of let them stick there for a few seconds--long enough for me to gently squeeze an elbow or whatever it is.
And then you yank it away.
Where's your sense of fun, child?
You completely re-arrange my internal organs (to say NOTHING of what you've done to my back-end) and made me a wee bit crazy (under.statement.) and I can't even pinch an elbow???

I'm happy to report that upping the protein in my diet actually seems to have totally worked in the sweets craving department!
Who knew?
I would never connect something so...meat-sounding..to something so...tasty.
But I've made an effort to have a bit of protein at lunch, a bit at snack time (apples with peanut butter are my WEAKNESS right now), and some at dinner at least three times a week.
So far, so good.
But I do kind of miss those desserts...

As far as the water consumption thing, look, I'm doing my best.
A gallon is just ridiculous, I would slosh as I walked, truly I would.
Let's just say that I'm drinking far more than I normally do and honestly, I don't think it's making a ton of a difference.
Even sitting here writing you, my fingers feel somewhat swollen.
Granted, it's the end of the day and sometimes that's just the way the end of the day treats me.

So here's the roller coastery part--

I need to apologize to you most sincerely because I feel like I've not been so great at making sure you're in your best place lately.
I know I haven't because you've definitely let me know when you're not good.
And this weekend, you were NOT good.

I learned recently that I'd be on my own for a few days with your siblings--something had come up for Daddy that he felt he needed to attend to but it would take him far from home for a bit.
Though I understood the reason, I didn't want him to go.
And I voiced this heartily.
Many times.
But it was the right thing for him to do, to take care of this situation and as much as I hated it, I knew he needed to go.
I was just upset that it would cause such upheaval at home.
And I was terrified at the prospect of managing your four siblings, their schooling and sporting functions, the house, the dog, you, and Creux all by myself.

It was a daunting proposition for me and, as much as I wanted to be completely supportive of his decision to go, I knew what I was up against.
And it basically boiled down to this: there are days, and sometimes it's almost every right now, that I can't wait for another adult to walk into this house and help me out.
Those really bad days with Creux--which are temporary as he works through his two's--are really rough by the end.
And sometimes, I'm really, really tired, just from doing my portion of the family stuff.
Knowing that I was picking up his portion too (Daddy does a lot around here in a day--is usually the breakfast starter, gets Greer off to preschool, MAKES DINNER, helps with bedtimes) was completely over-whelming to me.

So I did what I seem to be doing a lot right now in the face of stress and I completely and totally melted down.

Not only were my emotions raging but we spent the whole weekend preparing for his leave.
In order to simplify my life while he was gone, we needed stuff.
We needed a ton of groceries.
We needed to finish Easter shopping.
We needed to do this, we needed to do that.
We spent the whole day on Saturday running around.

And by Saturday night, you were in a state.
I took a shower and laid down but I couldn't sleep because you were going absolutely nuts, for a longer period of time than you'd ever seemed to be up for before.
It didn't escape my notice--but I did eventually drift off, only to wake up with some contractions.

I got up to get a glass of water, hoping that would settle things down a bit (this usually works) but it didn't.
Every ten minutes or so, I'd get another contraction and I started freaking out a little bit.
What if I'd started my own labor by my diva-ish antics?
It's far, far too early for you to even threaten an appearance, and though I knew that what I was feeling was probably just a result of way too much stress for one day, I was scared.

Before returning to bed, I used the potty and noticed that I was spotting just a bit.
Combined with the contractions, it frightened me beyond reason.
I didn't really think I was in labor; I truly believed that my body was just, in no uncertain terms, telling me that enough was enough was enough.
So I kept checking back but the spotting was only that once and though the contractions were still noticable, they were relenting a bit.
But I laid there thinking, this is so stupid.
I can't get myself so worked up, I can't spend the day just running errands for hours on end, only to then face a marathon single parenting session which is stressful beyond belief on its own and for which I need sanity, patience, and rest.

What I feared most was that I was mis-judging the situation and that I'd, thinking that the spotting and the contractions were just an after-effect of my stressful day, completely miss the signs of true premature labor.
What if, I wondered, I just went to sleep with these mild contractions and then woke up at 4am like I have in the past with some of your siblings, in hard, fast labor?
You would not survive an accidental birth here at home.
You would hopefully be alright in a hospital setting but if I didn't have time to get there, we'd be in real trouble.

So...I need to make a conscious effort to not be a stressed-out lunatic for your sake because it definitely impacts you enough to make me sit up and notice.
I spent so much time worrying about how I would handle the kids here at home all on my own that I didn't do anything to make sure that we, you and I, were okay.
If I weren't pregnant with you, his leaving would be an irritant but only due to the lack of help.
(He is not, for the record, out having fun in Vegas. He is not out having fun anywhere. He is simply... needed. And if someone needs him more than I do, than you know how important it was for him to go.)
Four kids is a lot of work with help, but adding in my own pregnancy-induced fatigue and limited reserves of
SuperMommy juice, well, thinking about all that needs done in a day without any extra hands or kind words (when I've run out of my own)...it just pushed me over the edge.

I suppose we compromised somewhere in there.
He moved mountains (literally) to be gone for just over a day and a half.
That felt tremendously more manageable to me and my relief was probably palpable to you.

It's also sort of highlighted an issue that's been lingering around for a bit and it's this:
We're not a normal family and we can't behave like one.
By "normal" I mean, due to our family size, it's imperative that we do what works best for us and to let the rest of it go.
(Doing this usually makes us (me) rather unpopular with family because in every family, there are expectations and I'm much more likely to buck those than Daddy is. When I see needs conflicting, I'm more apt to choose what's better for you kids rather than making sure everyone else is happy.
That makes me Not. Popular.)
Whereas when we had a smaller amount of children, we could be more flexible as a family.
But now, maybe we really kind of can't.

Anyway, though it was scary, it was a terrific reminder to me that just because I am, in general, feeling really good right now, I'm still very responsible for your, and my, well-being--along with the rest of this household.
Just as I make sure to change my diet to better suit your needs, I need to change my stress management as well.
Unfortunately, I seem to suffer from those hallmark-of-pregancy mood swings.
I need things to be rather...copacetic right now.
I need my boat to not be rocked, I need your brother to take a toddler-sized dose of a chill pill, I need NOT to be single parenting at this precise moment in time.
But that's life, sweet stuff :)
It has become abundantly clear to me that, after all of these years of thinking other-wise, the world does, in fact, NOT revolve around me.
Shocking and sad but true.
Harumph.

(That was a joke. I sure hope my sense of humor translates well because if not you're going to think I'm one seriously crazy piece of work.)

I'm off to kick back and relax now and I promise to not get you all worked up like that again.
At least until the weekend ;)

Loving you already,
Mama (who is so very, very glad that you are still as snug as could be in her incubator)

24 Weeks, 3 Days

2010-03-22T23:53:00.000-04:00

I can not, can not, believe that we have begun our sixth month of pregnancy together.
It just sounds so...pregnant!
From here on out, it all will just sound very close and very big: seven months, eight, then nine.
It sort of scares me how fast the days are passing because there are several things that I need to get done before I can really concentrate on getting you here.

Our spring semester has begun and with it comes gorgeous weather and a jam-packed family schedule.
We're also wrapping up school for your oldest siblings, with hopefully next month (April) being our last.
May will be a play month, with a vacation scheduled and some fun holidays tossed in.
June is reserved for you, with me focusing completely on assembling your birth supplies, laundering your clothes (onesies in my wash again--so cute I can't stand it!), finalizing little things here and there like your name (such a "little" thing, yes? :)) and how we're going to negotiate your day of birth.

I'm still not certain on who I want here and how I want your siblings involved.
I asked Chas the other day if he was at all interested in seeing your birth and he quickly replied that he wasn't.
So it's good to know where he stands on things because that sort of sets the tone for the others a bit.
Part of me is still leaning towards a super private birth, with only the midwives and Daddy in attendance.
Another part of me thinks, maybe I should let the kids decide for themselves.
This seems to be a popular way of thinking in the home-birthing cicuit but if Chas doesn't really feel comfortable, then I'm not sure I need to encourage the rest of them.
Greer and Creux can't be unattended anyway so there will be another person here taking care of them during the birth and I haven't officially asked anyone yet though I do have some ideas.
It needs to be someone who is just here for them.
And that's the hard part.
Because I don't want someone here who terribly wants to see you born because I need them to be focused on your siblings.
But at the same time, I suppose it needs to be someone who would be okay witnessing a birth and someone that I would be okay with witnessing your birth.
I can't say for sure what will happen so I need to think carefully about this decision.

I'm planning to enlist a little bit of summer help though and really would like someone here every day in the week or two leading up to your birth.
I'll be tired and busy and will be wanting to spend time with your siblings but won't be able to do everything.
Most importantly, I don't want them to lose their entire summer on account of me not wanting to do anything or go anywhere--I won't be able to do much in the weeks following your arrival.
And even in the weeks leading up to your birth, I'll likely just feel like doing less in general.
But I'd still like everyone to be able to go to the pool, head out for ice cream, visit the playground--that type of stuff.

Not to mention that planning to have someone here during the last two weeks would be great for "just in case". It will reduce my anxiety anyway just knowing that if something were to happen quickly, I at least have another adult close at hand to care for my smaller children.

While I've long said that "everything is happening sooner" in this pregnancy with you, I have to say that I think I've hit my groove much later.
Which really makes sense when you think about it.
I feel almost totally normal these days--my energy is high, I'm not quite so drained all the time, I'm sleeping "ok" still.
This is what 18 weeks used to feel like.

Mostly right now my biggest problem is just regulating my mood swings.
Egads, those things are wicked.
I'm totally fine one minute and the next I'm a disaster.
This is much harder for Daddy than me, I think.
Usually he can joke around with me pretty heavily but these days, I'm more liable to end up with hurt feelings than anything else.
All I can say is, if you're going to crack a joke about a pregnant woman, it better be hi-lar-ious or you're going to be in deep doo-doo and you'll spend the next two hours explaining EXACTLY what you meant when you said something that you thought was funny but really was very, very stupid.
(Clearly here "you" is standing in for "he". But it's good advice none-the-less.)

Anyway, he's been a little blind-sided by my changing the rules of engagement as far as the way we relate to each other.
He's quite baffled most of the time, really.
He says I've lost my sense of humor right now and he would be right.
I sort of have, at least in terms of dumb (really, they ARE dumb) comments.
My response to that was, "Then stop joking."

And I don't mean to make it sound like he's being unkind, he isn't, not purposefully anyway.
I'm just super sensitive in general.
So if he says anything that starts with "Don't take this the wrong way but (insert ridiculously stupid not funny comment)" I've got my verbal boxing gloves on before he's fully finished his sentence and the man is going down.

I will regain my sense of humor, I promise I will.
I like being funny.
I like joking around.
But apparently, I do not like it so much right now.
And he's tired of hearing, "ARE YOU REALLY THAT MALE???" screeched when he's trying hard to figure out why I'm ready to clobber him for saying something a bit off-color.
So maybe he'll just think his funny things for awhile and we can laugh about them in a year.
(The post-partum time period is another unfunny time. In fact, it may be less funny than now. Hopefully he will just be doodling rainbows on the walls and painting my toenails and feeding me chocolates and NOT SPEAKING for a few months.)

Okay, that was kind of funny.
I haven't completely lost my sense of humor.
(Am sticking out tongue in the direction of your father. He's not paying attention to me, he's all hunched over his computer, probably writing an unfunny book of "What Not To Say When She's Pregnant, Hormonal, and Ready To Claw Your Eyes Out At A Moment's Notice.")

See? FUNNY.

Some stats for you:

I'm drinking what feels like a bathtub-ful of water every day and still my hands feel swelly at night.
I can now barely lift either leg in the shower to shave which makes things, well, hairy. (Get it?)
Once or twice a week I sleep in the sitting-up position. That continues to scare the crap out of me because I'm afraid I will have to remain standing by week 38.
You squirm a lot.
You don't like it when I startle or yell.
I can feel small body parts these days--I think I can feel your head down near my pubic bone. I pushed on it the other day and you freaked for a minute. I didn't push again because it didn't feel so great to me either.

Mostly you can't hurt me anymore but last Thursday, you were knocking something bad and I ended up rocking back and forth, hoping the motion of my body would get you to go back to sleep.
That's officially the weirdest pregnant thing I've ever done.
But it worked.
After a few minutes, you went back to sleep and quit punching me.
Fetus, newborn--same thing, really. You babies like movement.

If Greer could pick your name, it would be "Gracie" or "Ella".
She doesn't even consider boy ones for you, sorry.

I ordered my first something for you today--a little duckie washcloth.
And I found the sweetest, coziest, fluffiest towel ever and when I imagined wrapping you in it, I thought..."Oh my gosh, I'm going to have a baby soon." My stomach dropped a bit. You babies still do that to me, even after four, even expecting five.

A replacement charm, another number '5', that you'd given me for Christmas that later fell off somewhere, is now dangling from my wrist again.
(It arrived in the form of a "peace offering" from our very own funny man. The peace was restored instantly, and I do mean instantly.)
It feels good to have it back--I really didn't like getting it and then losing it.
It almost seemed like bad luck.

Mama's done babbling for the night--I always mean to say just a thing or two and then I realize I've written a book inside a book!
Sweet dreams to you, wee one.

Loving you already,
Mama

23 Weeks, 5 Days

2010-03-17T22:50:00.000-04:00

HAHA!
It happened, didn't it?
Didn't I say that around 24 weeks, you'd be squashed like a...well, like a baby in there?
Sometimes you kids are so predictable :)

I have to tell you, your suddenly limited mobility has me sort of gleeful.
You were seriously attacking me for awhile! All those well-placed knocks and whaps were taking a toll!
And you're still knocking in there but I can definitely tell you've lost your freedom significantly.
You're kicking in about the same three spots, as opposed to flying around like you're on a trapeze and banging kamikaze into whatever organ or wall you come across.
And you're squirming now.
No more exotic, rampant, unrestricted flipping for you, wee one!
Now we'll just have to see if you're the type of baby who is comfortable chilling out (a girl) or if you're going to totally re-arrange my stomach on a daily basis in order to prove that you CAN still do it (a boy).

I can sit back and watch you move now.
My stomach will jump as you kick, like a little jack-rabbit.
I laid on the couch briefly today and just watched--no matter how many times I go through this whole pregnancy bit, this part never gets old.
It's so amazing, I honestly marvel at the miracle of pregnancy.
I can't believe your fully formed and alive and wiggling around...yet trapped inside my body, waiting until you're big enough to survive without me.
It's astounding to witness, to play my role in it all.
To grow a new life is such an...honor.

Spring has arrived and with it has come a new perspective for me!
I've been able to get out and enjoy the weather, play with my Littles, oooh and ahhh over the daring feats of your older brothers (egads!).
You and I and Creux have been on walks every day this week--today we were joined by the whole gang!
It feels so good to move and to get a bit of fresh air.
I hope you and I will be able to do this together shortly after you arrive, surely in the evenings when the hot sun goes down and the day cools off.
It's been awhile since I've walked with a baby snug against my chest.
I can't wait to hold you.
We'll sit on the porch swing and watch everyone play, spending complete days just swinging together.
It's going to be a terrific summer around these parts.

I just wanted to write today because I'm feeling so great and I want it noted.
(You'll understand why right around week 32 or 33. If I'm really lucky, perhaps week 34. The posts around week 39 will likely have to be totally deleted :) There are diva days ahead, my love.)
I haven't napped all week long, there's been no need.
I feel amazing, so amazing that sometimes I forget you're there until you nudge me, almost a startling reminder of your existence.
And that's not a bad thing.
It's wonderful.
Plus, I can almost wear those flip-flops that require no bending.
Things are really looking up...

Loving you already,
Mama (who is finding it really hard today to fight her baby lust)

23 Weeks, 2 Days

2010-03-15T00:26:00.000-04:00

The first thing I should point out here is that I've changed your weekly turn-over date.
Since you're now officially due on July 9th, that puts me at a Friday change.
I'm not going to adjust the previous postings as it really doesn't matter so much but since that's what your medical folder states, that's what I'll now go by as well.
(Though we have no intention of fully making it to that date, do we? DO WE???)

Oh WOW, you've grown!
Or maybe we've just hit that point where we're both fully fighting for the same space.

I'm waddling.
I fought it as long as I could but there's just no denying it at this point.
You're heavy and my belly is large enough now to totally sway my center of gravity and so...I waddle.
Argh.

And I really need the seasons to change because it's very hard to pull on my boots.
I sit on the ground, take a deep breath, and then beeeeeend over you, groaning the whole time.
I have to sit close to my bed so I can use the posts to hoist myself back up or else I have to flip over onto all fours and then slowly stand up.

I'm slower all the way around--getting up from the table, getting in and out of the car, just getting anywhere takes more time.

But you know what?
I feel good still.
We're closing down our second trimester here and are amazingly staring down the last chunk of incubation time for you and preparation time for me.
Can you believe that?

It will be much, much harder in the coming weeks and months and I'm going to do my best to not complain every single time I write in this journal :)
I will be happy for each day that I do feel great and sleep well and don't have a mood swing so severe that I know has our family and friends seriously questioning where they might be able to get a padded room for me for the night.
That's a joke.
Mostly :)

We had another visit with the midwives on Wednesday and I can't believe I'm only not getting around to updating you!
Because I know I'll spend a good hour just sitting and writing, I don't just pop on and off this blog space like I can and do on my other one.
I really only write to you at night, when the house is completely still and I can give you my full attention--otherwise my thoughts will be interrupted and I hate that.
It's important to me to be able to really focus on what I'm sharing with you and though I know this book will undergo a massive over-haul before I have it printed, it's still incredibly important that I give you, and the words written to you, my fullest attention.

So let me tell you about you!

You're over a pound now and you completely fill my belly.
I can tell that you've really grown a lot recently because I still remember when your kicks and punches were way down by my bikini line. Now you kick at the top of my tummy, just under my (rapidly expanding, every growing) breasts.

Real quick--let me tell you about those because GOOD GRIEF they are like the defining twins of this pregnancy!
I'm getting concerned because I'm just a tiny girl really, tall but not....um, bosom-y, and I'm terrified that when your milk finally comes in and my big, big belly starts to go away and I start to slim back down, and I'm left with these huge...things...that I'm going to horrifically resemble a woman named Debbie.
As in, the one who does Dallas.

Okay, that was in poor taste but it's kind of funny.
And scarily true.
(You'll get that joke when you're much older and you might even come high five me. You will if you're a boy. If you're a girl, you'll probably roll your eyes. It's okay. I roll mine at my mom all the time, too. I even sometimes still stick my tongue out at her when she's not looking. It happens, is all I'm saying.)

Anyway, so we visited with Abby and Jill and I have to tell you that no matter what ends up happening during your delivery, whether or not I'm fully able to deliver at home or if, for whatever reason, we end up needing to go to the hospital, I'm so very glad we chose this route with you.

We love our midwives.
I love the way they treat me and you and Daddy...and how very kind and open and engaging they are with your siblings.
They have baby-sized pillows that depict your exact stage of development and they laid the six-month one of you upside down on my tummy so that the Littles could see what you looked like inside me.
When we listened to your heartbeat, we were able to listen to Creux's as well.
He liked that.
A lot.
He'd love a Doppler in his Easter basket :)
And it was just nice of them to be so indulgent with him.

They encourage us to bring our kids along to the appointments so that when they show up at our home, everyone is comfortable with their presence and I really appreciate that. The Littles and Rhyse have been twice now but that was Chas's first meeting with them.

Our appointments, really, are gab sessions.
We cover everything, certainly things relating to the pregnancy but also, just stuff.
They ask how I'm feeling, how I'm eating, how my moods are, what questions or concerns I have. We talk for an hour straight and the time absolutely flies. It no longer feels like we're trying to figure each other out; we're at the point of really just establishing a friendship of sorts.
Do I trust them?
Yes.
And I know that my answer to that question will end up being terrifically important in the coming months because I will be relying on them to get us both through your birth safely.

If I'm honest, I do have concerns but not about your safety.
I'm totally at ease with this decision, to have you at home, in regards to your being in a "safe" place.
I'm actually even at ease with the idea of an accidental too-fast delivery here with just Daddy in charge so THAT tells me I'm really okay with it.
It's not ideal, by any stretch of the imagination, but it doesn't terrify me.

It's more me that I worry about and it's just because, I've said this before, I know that I'm not a great candidate for this type of delivery.
I'm a wuss.
I'm not a tough, Earth Mama, type of girl.
And I like my epidurals, quite frankly.
I'm not sitting here planning this with you today because I'm bound and determined to go natural for reasons other than...well, than my own.

Jill asked us on Wednesday to answer this question individually: "Why do you want to have a home birth?"
Both of our answers were the same and they centered around our desire to keep our family close, to be in our own space, and to be able to parent you immediately in the manner that we feel you deserve from us. We don't want to deal with rules and regulations regarding your care.
We don't need help.
We just need each other, all seven of us.

For my part, I don't sleep well in hospitals so I'm not even rested when I get back home because the nurses are coming in every three hours or so.
I've never, not once in all of my newborny moments, used the nursery.
I have never desired to be apart from my fresh babies for one second and have often waited in agony for their returns.

(Back when we had Chas, they took him for HOURS. Like three. Same with Rhyse. Hospital policies seemed to loosen a bit when we had Greer, she spent more time in-room, but Creux was the first baby that was actually bathed in our room and had most of his vital checks and other things done there, too. Everyone else left for a long, long time and it was always a misery to this new mama, who only craved the one thing she'd been waiting ten months for--her new baby who was busy being handled somewhere else. I'm done, done, done with those days.)

So you see, I am a woman whose desire to have her way in parenting her newborn outweighs her fear of enduring hours worth of pain.
I know some women who have natural deliveries like it's a piece of cake.
But I don't.
Labor is hard for me and I suspect that some of why I break down in the moment is because I'm exhausted from the month-long constant contractions and the repetitive "Is this it?" scenarios.
Because I know it can go so fast for me, I spend the last month on-guard, through all of that pre-labor dilating that I do.

Truthfully though, I'm just a baby.
Even having gone through labor four times before, my stomach still drops a bit when I imagine realizing "It's time."
And I know, I KNOW, that I'm going to hit a point in the middle of your labor and I'm going to feel like I made the wrong decision.
It'll be the point where the pain starts to get the better of me, but when I know there's far more to come, and it'll be when I realize that I've hit the point of no return.

The decision, which is already final barring some complication, will really be final to me and I'll have a good, old-fashioned meltdown right there in front of everyone.
I could surprise myself but I'm guessing this is the way it will go.
However.
I'll have that meltdown and then I'll be okay.
I'll be stronger and I'll get through it and then it will be over.
But I'm not delusional enough to think it's going to be all rainbows and butterflies up in that bedroom of mine.

I do have to remind myself of this though because I'm sort of used to that rainbows and butterflies type of birth.
I'm in agony, I get my epidural, and then I, with hair done and a fresh coat of lip gloss, sit back and enjoy delivering my baby.
I'm talking, laughing, fully engaged and aware.
And I almost hate to think about missing out on some of that because I will be in a different place mentally so I won't be just enjoying the moment this time around.
I'll be in my own private hell, most likely.
So I have to be careful to not be unrealistic, too.
The birth images won't match for me, yours compared to your siblings, and I need to be okay with that.

When Abby was examining me on the couch, she mentioned that I had, "a surprising amount of water rentention" and this led to a discussion and modification of my diet.
She wants me to drink a GALLON of water a day.
That's like, impossible, quite frankly.
I am a woman, not an elephant and I simply do not see how I can consume that much water in a day.
Plus, I would have to wear a diaper because I would be peeing every 25 seconds.
Seriously!
But I have agreed to attempt this colossal challenge and, well, we'll just see.

Daddy totally threw me under the bus when Abby asked if I was having any cravings.
"She likes desserts right now and normally she doesn't," he blurted out, while my gaze narrowed on him.
Watch it, pal, I was thinking.
That sounded dangerously close to a comment for which you'd need to be smacked upside the head.

(In all fairness, Daddy has never, ever, ever said or done anything to make me feel...um, judged about my food consumption during my pregnancies or there-after for that matter. He's never made me feel bad about food choices, or like I've gained too much, or that I'm not losing weight fast enough after you babies arrive. Which is good because after going through what a woman must go through physically, mentally and emotionally during a pregnancy, I can't say that his words would be appreciated or that he'd be living long after uttering them.)

So that little outing of his led to the idea that my craving of sweets likely means that I am not getting enough protein in my diet which is highly possible because I don't eat much meat at all.
I do try to eat a bit more when I'm pregnant but honestly, I could easily be a vegetarian except for one little problem and that's PROTEIN!
What I hate more than eating hunks of meat is attempting to eat hunks of black beans or any beans for that matter.
Surely there are other ways of consuming protein and I'm currently doing just that--one biggie has been to add a protein powder to my smoothies and though it definitely take it from a smoothie to a shake, I drink it down.
I need it, you need it, it's the easiest way for me to get it into my diet.

I'm also taking a calcium supplement in addition to my prenatal vitamin because I don't consume much dairy either.
I have issues with dairy and the more I read, the more I want to do away with it completely.
It's partly the reason why I nurse longer than a year--Creux was the first baby we had to not go from breast milk to cow's milk.
He didn't get milk.
He got me and he got water.
You will have the same refreshments :)

I'll typically have a bit milk if I eat cereal but that's about it for me and the whole dairy thing.
I don't think it does a body good so I don't encourage hefty usage here at home.
Since I complained of having foot cramps (which I did for two days in a row but then they disappeared), Abby said it was likely a calcium deficiency and that we should add the supplement to my diet.
So now we're all proteined and calciumed up!
Hopefully that and the insane amount of water (!!!) is all that I'll need from here on out.

The last thing we talked about concerning you is just the sorry state of me.
I was complaining about everything just happening so much sooner with you than even with Creux (even those things I mentioned tonight--the waddling and groaning boot issues) and she pointed out that I now have a different body than I did than "even with Creux."

This body has now gone through four, not three, pregnancies and each one changes things a bit which makes total sense.
It's not so much that I'm two years older, it's just that my body has gone through the rigors of making another human an extra time in between then.
I guess I hadn't really looked at it like that before, I just contantly compare and lament over how early, how early, but...what do I expect?
Five pregnancies certainly is going to take a toll and I just need to be kinder to myself.

I'll have to keep this in mind when I'm desperate to get back into my regular girl skinny jeans because I'm impatient as it is. (Who isn't?)
I need to just respect the enormous task that my body is challenged with and let the rest of it go.
Easier said than done when something organ-like is crammed in between ribs number six and seven for months on end.
Harumph!

That's all for now, plus you're kicking the pillow that this laptop is resting on so it's very distracting to me.
You did this the other night with the book that I had resting against you while I was reading in bed, knocking it all over the place.
You'd make a good shelf if you'd just relax in there.
It's hard to get stuff done when you're constantly kicking things out of the way, you know :)

Loving you already,
Mama