Oh yeah, we're moving... again.

I move about every 8 months or so.  At least that's what it feels like.  I did a quick count in my head the other day and this upcoming move will be my 11th move since graduating from college in 2002.  Yes, my ELEVENTH MOVE in 10 years.  That is ridiculous.  This will be the 5th place that Chris and I will live in together in our 4 years of marriage and May's 3rd home.  She's not even one year old yet and this will be her THIRD home.  Like I said, that is ridiculous.

Now, onto the good news.  We are buying a house! SO, if everything continues to go smoothly... we shouldn't be moving again for a very very very long time (insert giant deep cleansing breath here).  We found a precious ranch with a finished basement in Gurnee.  I spent my entire non-adult life in Gurnee and Chris spent a large part of his childhood there as well.  I am a little bit more excited about moving back "home" than he is though.  Where we live now is about 2 minutes from Gurnee but this is different.  I feel like we're coming home. Is that weird? Well, it is what it is.

Here are some pics of the new place.  Obviously, these are from the real estate listing.  I canNOT wait to start posting some after pics of all the projects we will be doing!

The outside... I hate that giant tree but I'm sure it will be there for years to come.  I think we'll be doing alot of landscaping and painting...

The family room... LOVE the gas fireplace and the hardwood floors (although it will be funny to watch May slipping and sliding around since she used to carpet)

Another view of the family room -- the opening to the right of the fireplace goes to the bedrooms. 

The Kitchen... A very amazing person is GIVING us a stainless steel fridge and oven... and I totally plan on painting the kitchen cabinets (one day when I have like, a month with no other plans and May has become completely self sufficient).  I LOVE the window above the sink.  I've always wanted that... I spend so much time standing at the sink, I love that I'll have a nice view of our back yard :-)

This is actually a formal living room in the front of the house but the previous owners obviously used it as a dining room.  It's oddly cut off from the rest of the house though so the entire wall to the right is coming down which will open it up to the kitchen eating area (below) and the family room.

This is the eating area in the kitchen - the wall with the built in shelves will be coming down and it will open up to the formal living room -- the wall to the left is also coming down and will open up to the family room.

This is the AMAZING shower in the master bath.  It has multiple sprayers.  I might not ever get out.

This is the time capsule basement... I'm not-so-secretly in love with the wood paneling and the leather padded bar.  The door in the back there leads to the laundry room and a storage area -- the storage area is going to becoming a 4th bedroom for the parents.  My dad is giving us a giant sectional and giant TV for the basement.  We're pretty stoked. (Well, I'm pretty stoked because I don't have to get those two giant items out of my dad's basement and into our basement.)

So, that's everything! The projects mentioned with the walls coming down will be happening on our second weekend living here.  My darling husband, the carpenter, is going to use his one weekend off to work on our home all weekend.  He's so excited to finally get to do work on his own home.

And, I almost forgot to mention that this house is on a cul de sac in a REAL neighborhood and there is a little playground at the end of the cul de sac! Yay!

Here's a picture of May... just because.

Then and Now...

Today is our 4th wedding anniversary.  I'm pretty sure that our wedding was the funnest wedding ever... maybe because I was the one who got married that day... so, that made it extra fun for me.

Our colors were black and white... it was a winter wedding so no other color made sense to me at the time... plus, I had this dark, romantic vision in my head. My bridesmaids chose their own black dresses (this was the BEST decision ever by the way).  

I felt like a princess in my giant pick up skirt and Chris looked dashing in his tux! 

The sanctuary was dimly lit and there were candles everywhere... ugh, so romantic! 

There were FOUR toasts which was probably a bit much to anyone attending the wedding but was SO fun for Chris and I.  To hear our closest friends share their stories and well-wishes for us was the perfect way to kick off our reception. We had our bridal party and their dates at a big giant square head table.  Thinking back, this was probably kind of awkward for the bridal party's dates but it was SO fun to have everyone at this big giant table, and I have gone to one to many weddings "alone" because Chris was a groomsmen, so we just went for it! :-)

Our first dance was to Van Morrison's "I'll Be Your Lover Too" -- Chris picked the song and my favorite line was, "I'll be your king and you'll be my queen and I'll be your lover, too."

The DJ was awesome and the dance floor was full all night... so so much dancing!

 AND, here we are now... a little chubbier but so happy to be living life together. :-)

 

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

Oh my gosh, my May is a dancing MACHINE.  I could watch her shake that little tushy all day long... here are two little video's for your viewing pleasure.  Do you think this means that she'll probably be a famous dancer some day? Probably.

Snot, Coughs and Cuddles

May is sick.  She has been snotty and coughing for two weeks now.  And, in true baby fashion, juuuuust when we think she's getting better (and juuuuuuust after we take her to the doctor on a good day)... BOOM, she gets worse. 

I share this because something interesting happened around here last night.  Usually the coughing doesn't wake or keep May up... this girl can sleep through a marching band in her room at night (not during naps, don't ever try that).  Until last night.  Between 9 and 10:30pm she had coughed herself awake and whined herself back to sleep 3 times.  I couldn't take it anymore... my poor little boo boo was in there coughing and whining and I felt so helpless. (Baby's can't have cold medicine, or cough medicine, or anything that would help them feel better, incase you are wondering.)

Now, let me explain that my baby has not needed mommy and daddy in the middle of the night since she was about 2 months old.  She slept all the way through the night at 5 weeks and woke up a handful of times to eat at night between 5 and 8 weeks.  And that was it... no more wake ups.  We have a magic baby. 

So, I decided at 10:30 last night that I would end the streak and go in her room for some tylenol and a snuggle.  I wasn't sure how it was going to go -- would she be mad at me for coming in and then leaving again?  So, I fetched the tylenol and snuck in there... she was on her tummy breathing so heavy through the snot and whimpering.  Poor little thing was whimpering! I rubbed her back to let her know I was there and she popped right up and started swiping the tylenol syringe out of my hands (this is super odd because she LOVES the tylenol syringe... that stuff must taste like cotton candy)... I think she was confused about what was happening.  Anyways, I scooped her up and rocked her in her chair for about 10 minutes until I literally had to FORCE myself to put her back in bed (which went down without a hitch, by the way).  I felt like I could sit there and snuggle her all night long.  It reminded me (in a good way) of rocking her back to sleep after middle of the night feedings when she was so teeny tiny.  I stroked her eyebrows (which always gets her to shut her eyes) and rubbed her back... and it was magical.  We did this again at 2am but daddy got to do the cuddling.

So, my point in writing all of this is that I couldn't help but think, "THIS is motherhood... being up at night, rocking your baby and wishing you could hold her all night..." (and, on an unrelated note, THIS is why people decide to have multiple children... remembering rocking your sweet little newborn in the middle of the night seems to magical and glamorous once you are 7 months removed, doesn't it???) -- (AND, on a related side note, NO, we are not thinking about having another baby anytime soon... just to be clear).

I am so blessed to have been given this precious gift of a little girl.

My Lil Boo Boo

(this post is a little bit rambly... but there are lots of pics of May, so....)

I call May, "Lil Boo Boo" -- not sure where this came from but it has stuck... we have a song and everything.  I'm thinking even more about my lil boo boo right now than usual (if that's possible).  I'm getting ready to head out into the working world again (insert gigantic sigh here).  It's a blessing, it really is... but, I have to be gone for 8 days in a row.  Gone gone... like, as in gone to Texas.

Before I became an administrative diva at the Village Church of Gurnee, I was a corporate meeting planner.  The full-time job didn't suit me though -- a bit too high stress, a little too much travel.  So I left that job on good terms and found something a little more my speed.  The great thing about this field is that you can freelance... I've grown to love that word.  All I have to do is fly to Dallas and work a meeting (with an old friend, no less), come back home and never think about that meeting again.  It's a nice gig if you can get it.  Don't get me wrong - we work long hard days onsite but I love that I don't have to plan the meeting and I don't have to wrap it up.  Anyways, enough about that.

On Friday I'll be leaving my lil boo boo in the extremely capable hands of my darling husband (and super-dad) and his amazing mom (henceforth referred to as "Gigi").  Gigi lives in South Carolina (yes, so does my mom... no, none of us are from there, it's just a coincidence), and she's flying up here to stay with Chris and May for 8 days.  The Lord has blessed us immensely.  We knew that I would have to find some part time work eventually and the Lord majorly provided.  Not having to find regular care for May (like, every week) is so wonderful... having a mother in law that would hop on a plane and joyfully fly up here to change poopy diapers for a week is so amazing... having a super involved dad who knows everything about our little girl is (insert another word for amazing or wonderful here).  

Now, all this being said, the mere thought of being away from my lil boo boo for even one day makes my heart hurt.  EIGHT DAYS.  Eight days.  Ugh.  So, in preparation for my EIGHT days away I have written a novel entitled "How to care for a 10 month old baby" for our dear Gigi... who has raised two children of her own.  I started to type up some of our daily routine for Gigi... the schedule, what she can eat, what she can't eat, the doctor's phone number, etc... and then, before I knew it I was on page 8 and typing up list's called "Favorite Toys" and "Troubleshooting" -- yep, that happened. 

I am astounded by how much life has changed since my lil boo boo came into this world... I knew that my life revolved around hers now but WOW, this is crazy... I wrote 8 pages of information on how to care for one little baby.  All this is to say that it's actually kind of fun to look through this ridiculous document (that I do not plan on editing) and know that I am the one who knows this much about my dear, sweet, adorable lil boo boo.  Is that weird to say? I love being the "May Expert."  

I think she's amazing and I think I am so lucky and so blessed to be her mom.  

I love spending days in our jammies playing and smearing banana's all over everything (ok, May does that, not me... I swear). 

I love that I don't even bat an eyelash when I realize that a diaper change is absolutely necessary this very instant.  (I'll spare you the photo on this one :-)

I love that I know the difference between her "I just fell down and it didn't really hurt but I'm going to see if I can get you to think that it hurt" face and her "I just fell down and I actually think I might be dying" face.  

faker.

I love that when I come through the front door she crawls as fast as lightening to get to me.  I love that I know exactly how to make her laugh.  

I love that I will read the same book to her over and over and over (and over and over and over) again because I know that she loves it and it's helping her to learn.  I love that having a daughter has taught me to love in a way that I never EVER EVER imagined possible.  And, I love that I feel like my body is going to Dallas but my heart is staying in Illinois... it hurts so bad but I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything.

Eskimo Kisses... :-)

So, for the next 4.5 days until I leave I am going to focus on keeping my life in perspective.  I'm going to focus on how darn lucky I am to be able to stay home with this lil baby every day, that I am able to pick up and go off to Dallas for a week to do some work and then I get to come back home to my baby.  I'm so lucky that my biggest concern when I'm falling asleep at night is, "I need to remember to write down where we keep the extra overnight diapers."  My life is a blessing and I'm going to focus on viewing it as such.

Time Warp

Is parenthood a time warp? I think it is and everyone has just forgotten to warn me about it. 

Yesterday our day was so full that all the sudden it was 3:30 and the hubs was walking through the front door... what? it's time for daddy to be home already?  I love it when this happens.

Today, however, is a whole different story.  Went to get my little boo boo up around 7:30 this morning (she's a late sleeper, I love that) and this is what ensued...

Hmmmm, it smells REALLY bad in here - I guess I better empty the trash before we do anything else. (sidenote: we usually use cloth dipes, and the dirties are stored in the bathroom, but she's fighting a rash something fierce right now so we are in disposables for a while until things clear up and I can find time to disinfect her diapers - my life is so glamorous.)  So, I take her tiny little grocery bag garbage out and go to pick her up from the crib and discover something terrible.  The rancid smell is coming from my sweet little angel baby.  Oh dear... her light pink sleep sack has yellow on it.  Oh dear.

I strip her down to nothing (while holding my breath) and find that her legs and tummy are WET from the diaper overflow that has taken place. (Mental note -- must purchase some overnight diapers TODAY -- I miss my cloth diapers!) So. so. gross.  OK, we'll do a little wet wipey bath this morning then, no problem.  Nope - wet wipes are not going to tackle this stench.  How can one little baby smell SO bad? Hmmmm a bath is required.  She is not going to love her bath, as usual if she is starving though.  So, I take my naked baby down stairs to retrieve her bottle and plop her in the bathtub.  It's now 7:45 and May is drinking her morning bottle in the bathtub.  (Good thing I'm not nursing her anymore or this would have been REALLY interesting.)  

After the bath, I put her in a t-shirt and leg warmers... her tummy has a rash now too so I figure the more air we can get flowing around her little body, the better.  She looks ADORABLE in this hilarious little outfit.  The only thing missing is a sweatband around her head. :-)  Time for breakfast and OF COURSE the tray is dirty from dinner last night... ugh.  Get the tray clean, feed the baby.  I'm expecting a visitor this morning and my apartment is a disaster zone so I spend the next 45 minutes cleaning and sweating and sweating and cleaning.  My visitor says she'll have to come later.  At least my apartment is clean now, right?  AND, my baby totally cooperated and played independently while I cleaned - I love when that happens.

Three diaper changes, two laundry loads and one dishwasher load later, the little one is ready for her nap. While I'm changing her sheets (because of course they had to be stripped off the bed this morning, and of course, I didn't remember to put clean ones on at the time) I think to myself, "Self, is this her first nap of the day or her second? I just have no idea."  So, I check the clock and sure enough, it's 9:45am.  Really? So this is not going to be one of those days when I'm surprised when the hubs walks through the door then. :-)

Resolutions... I guess.

I have never been one for making resolutions... in fact, I generally just tune out when people start talking about resolutions.  I've never really entertained the thought, I'm not sure why. So, when everyone started talking about resolutions this year, I did my usual "tune it out" thing.  But then, before I knew it.... I had made some resolutions.  On accident.  Hmmmmm. 

So, here we go 2012! Apparently my brain would like me to try and do some things better this year... that caught me off guard.

1. Must. Get. Organized.  Is this everyone's resolution every year?  I feel like everywhere I look there are organization tips... I'm a little late on this one, I guess.  So far so good, we organized the storage  room on January 1st and I've been a labeling fool.  As it turns out, you can't stay organized if nothing has an official place.  It's also helpful if my husband can figure out where to put things (which is nearly impossible without labels because I like to reorganize every 3 days or so).  My favorite organizing thing I've done so far is with my extension cords.  I found this little tip on pinterest and it was so easy and manages to make extension cords cute.  Who knew?

Before... what a mess.

covered some toilet paper rolls with scrapbook paper and then stuck the cords in... easy!!

After! Still need to figure something out for the power strips...

2. Exhibit a tiny bit of will power in regards to food.  It's been 18 months since I have thought about dieting (what? I was pregnant and nursing... so....).  I don't want to diet but I do want to be more careful about what I am eating and include more produce in my diet.  May is eating what we're eating most of the time now so that's the best diet plan ever.  She isn't going to live on cereal and pizza so that should be the kick in the pants that I need!

3. Get out of my pajama's.  OK, so I should tell you that I'm not one of those stay at home mom's that has a problem with still being in the jam's when dad gets home.  I love sweat pants... Chris loves sweat pants.  If we are home, then we are in pajama's.  I find though, that I am much more productive if I put my jeans/socks/etc on in the morning.  Plus, it's nice to be ready to leave the house if something pops up, especially since I have limited in between naps time to work with anyways.

4. Get moving.  Let's be realistic here... I'm probably not going to start going to the gym 4 times a week or anything but I can certainly get off my duff around the house.  Like, instead of making a giant pile on the stairs for days of stuff that needs to go upstairs, I can bring things upstairs and put them away right away (or maybe within the day, instead of the week).

Oh, and I'd really like to get back to my blogging... So, you'll be hearing more from me!

No reason for this photo... just wanted to show you how cute my little May is in her New Years Eve outfit. :-)

May's Story, Part II

Okay, where did I leave off? Oh, right... "Give me the drugs!" (see previous post to get caught up!)

Thursday, March 24th, around 11:30pm: we are in the triage room getting all checked out.  First thing they do is a little test to make sure my water actually broke.  I guess lots of women go into the hospital thinking that their water broke when it actually hasn't.  So, they do this little swabby test and tell me that according to the test, my water did NOT break. Say what?!  Um, yes it did... and I am definitely in labor.  Luckily they believe me and draw the conclusion that it partially broke, or something, but there is still lots of water in there (gross). They ask me lots of questions about my birth plan (do I want an epidural), and other random things that I don't remember anymore.  I do my best to answer them in between contractions but, answering their questions is the last thing I want to be doing right now.  Chris is right next to me letting me squeeze his hand (until each finger is successfully broken) through each contraction.  He's reminding me to breathe and counting for me... what a wonderful coach he is! At one point I go into panic mode and stop breathing through the contractions - I look at Chris and say, "I can't do this, I can't do this" several times in a row.  He gently (but firmly) reminds me that I CAN do it... if I keep breathing.  Breathing is key.  You cannot birth a baby without oxygen.

Friday, March 25th, 12am: I finally get to move into a labor and delivery room of my very own! And, do you know what this means? Epidural time. At this point my contractions are about every 2-3 minutes but I'm still only dilated to 3 or 4 cm.  I'm all snug in my bed and just waiting for the epidural angel to arrive.  I'm getting worried that I'm going to dilate quickly and not be able to get my epidural.  The prospect of natural child birth is not one that I want to entertain, but I'm feeling pretty glad that I paid attention in that child birth class... (not to scare anyone who is about to give birth but,) this pain is unlike anything I have ever experienced.  MAD PROPS to you who have given birth without pain relief... I truly do not understand how you did it!

1:00am: He's here, he's here! The epidural angel has arrived.  It's love at first sight.  Chris is pretty thankful for him as well... he probably could have used a little shot of epidural in his poor hand that I have been squeezing for the last hour and a half. (On a side note, all the nurses kept commenting on what a great coach Chris was... he realllllllly was!) My angel is a charming man... he tells me to sit up and hold onto a pillow... oh and don't move... or breathe... or else.  At this point, I am nervous about the pain of the epidural needle.  Isn't that hilarious? In hindsight, I can laugh at this... but I can't make sense of it.  I would gladly take 5 shots 1 shot per minute for an hour and a half over labor pains.  Anyways, just as he's doing his thang and reminding me not to move one centimeter, I have a contraction and the stupid blood pressure cuff goes off  (question for other previously pregnant women... am I the only one who feels this animosity toward the blood pressure cuff? I hate that thing).  Seriously?! But, much to my surprise, I managed to keep it together and before I know it I'm all hooked up to that happy little IV bag.  I ask how long until it kicks in, just a few minutes! YAY! He hands me this wonderful little button that's connected to a cord that goes to my IV... what is this magical button? It's an epidural button.  I love this button.  If I feel any pain I can just push the button.  Magic.  Within a few minutes I'm laboring away with no pain.  Child birth isn't so bad after all.

So, I'm laboring my little heart out, watching the contractions jump up on the monitor and feeling so thankful for modern medicine.  My labor and delivery nurse (Sylvia, I LOVE her) is scuttling around, doing things with tubes and cords and calling the doctor and having confusing conversations that make me worry something might be wrong... it's hard to tell when you can only hear one side of the conversation though. I ask if everything is OK and she tells me that the baby's heart rate is a smidgen low, nothing to be concerned about at this point but they are going to keep an eye on it.  I tell her that I popped a benadryl before my water broke (remember all that itching? this was the one thing I was allowed to take for it).  She says this is good to know and it's probably why the heart rate is slow... I made the baby sleepy.  I have to keep an oxygen mask on for pretty much the rest of the night to keep the baby awake, or something.

2:00am: We are finally "settled" in labor and delivery... nurse Sylvia is done with her scuttling, I can't feel anything from the waist down, Chris is resting on his little pull out bed... it's time to wait.  Did I mention yet that my mom, sister in law (Kristen) and my dad were all in the waiting room this whole time? We didn't want to let them in until the scuttling was over... and, being that I am in labor at this point, I am totally unaware of how amazing it is that they have been sitting out there for 2 hours, in the middle of the night.  Nurse Sylvia says we can only have two other people in the room (besides Chris) - and we can't swap out... boo (Okay, I knew I could only have 3 in there beforehand but I didn't know about the no swapping rule).  This means that someone is either going home or sitting in the waiting room for who knows how long waiting for little May to make her appearance.  I already knew that I wanted my mom there with me and there was no way Kristen was going anywhere until she had hugged the baby, (not to mention it would be so traumatizing and unnecessary for my dad to see me give birth) so my poor pops had to head home.  My handsome husband snuck him in for a quick visit first though :-).

4:00am: Nurse Sylvia comes in and says she'd like to check out the progress.  Excellent.  I am anticipating not much progress since it's only been 3 hours since the last check... and rumor has it, the epidural slows things down.  Nurse Sylvia pops up with a grin on her face and says "how far do you think you are?" - hmmm, well, I thought 4cm until you asked me that... now I'm just not sure.  9 1/2 CM!  WOAH!  My body is so MADE for this stuff :-).  I just KNEW that those contractions meant business... I knew it.  So, what now? We're all abuzz! Nurse Sylvia says she can't make a guess on "how much longer" but she will call my doctor (it is the middle of the night still so none of my doctors are there, even though their office is inside the hospital.)

After chatting with the doctor, Nurse Sylvia asks if I'm comfortable still, yep... can't feel a thing, feeling good.  Okay then, they are going to let me "labor down" for a while.  (Luckily my good friend Katie did this and told me about it before hand, so I knew what she was talking about.)  Basically this means they are going to let me continue to labor and contract so the baby can move farther down on her own, rather than pushing for hours.

5:00am: Uh oh.  Something isn't right... I'm feeling pain and lots of it (regardless of how many times i pushed my magic button).  There is shooting and continuous pain in my lower back... We switch sides (which takes an army, by the way)... we switch again... Chris is all hunched over and rubbing my back (even though I'm laying on my back... he's amazing), Kristen is massaging my hands, mom is doing her thing... showing just the perfect amount of pity... no relief.  Oh man, this sucks.  Nurse Sylvia says I shouldn't be able to feel anything so she's calling in Dr. Angel again.  I'm thinking that he'll come in and tell me that he did his part already and "sometimes there is break through pain." My hopes are not high.  Dr. Angel comes in.. turns me on my side and shoots some epidural right into my back... instant relief (I'd like to note that I didn't even know he was doing this... I thought he was putting something else in the IV bag and just re-arranging the way I was laying to help with the pain - my mom told me later in the week that there was actually a very large needle involved in this process).  I love this man.

6:00am: Well, I'm getting to the freezing cold and shaky part of labor now... does everyone experience this? Well, I did.  I am up to 5 heated blankets... it's helping a bit.  Chris is snoozing while he can, mom and Kristen are chatting and mom keeps whispering "she's asleep" to Kristen every time I close my eyes. :-)  Nurse Sylvia keeps coming in and asking if I feel the need to push.  Um, nope... can't feel anything down there... She has been telling me for about an hour that "the dr. is on her way in." - how far does the doctor live from here anyways? Oh, and Nurse Sylvia's shift is over... she hands me off to a new nurse whose name I can't remember... we'll call her Nurse #2 (yes, Nikki, totally stealing from you right now).  She seems nice, but she's no Sylvia.

6:30am: "Do you feel the need to push?" Nope... what does that feel like again? Yeah, no... I don't feel that.  She's on the phone with the doctor and I get this feeling that the on call doctor's "on call shift" ends at 7am and she's desperately hoping that I can hold on until a different OB gets in at 7... Well, whatever... I feel fine and the baby is fine so I don't really care but that just seems rude.

7:00am: Dr. Nakanishi arrives! (this is not the on-call doc... this is the one who is actually working the morning shift... as it turns out, I love her way more than the on-call doc so I'm pretty happy we waited.) She comes right in and gets all her gear on (including a splat mask covering her face... gross).  I get the feeling that it is time to push... and if I could feel anything right now, it would be an urge to push.  Dr. is not joking around here... there are nurses everywhere, preparing things for the baby (who will be OUTSIDE of my body soon, really?!)... this is getting exciting! Dr. Nakanishi asks me if I would like to hold the baby as soon as she pops out... I answer, "when she's all covered in goo? umm, no." (please don't judge me. I wasn't in my right mind and if I could do it again, I would change my answer to this question.) 

Chris is in place to hold one of my giant heavy legs out of harms way... and guess who is holding my other giant heavy leg?! Nurse Sylvia! Yes, she finished her shift but came back for my delivery.  She's amazing.  Nurse #2 is like a really tough cheerleader and I'm so glad she's here.  Well, it's time to push! Here's the skinny on pushing (in case you aren't familiar).  You only push when there is a contraction... my doc/nurse team had me push 3 times for 10 seconds each during each contraction.  This doesn't sound like much but it is exhausting.  Only a big exhale during the push and one big inhale in between pushes, or I'd lose all my momentum.  I failed the first round but got the hang of it after that.  During each push all the nurses, the doctor and Chris are literally yelling the count... ONE! TWO! THREE! This sounds obnoxious but it's actually wonderful and greatly encouraging (especially when you can't feel where you are pushing).  So, we did this for about 45 minutes or so (with HUGE breaks in between because for some reason my contractions slowed waaay down... so we were waiting 5-7 minutes between them.)  In the end I think I had 3 or 4 big pushes and out she came!  While she was crowning, Chris says "her head is small!" and I think, hmmm, that doesn't sound right, she feels huge (I mean, in my belly, I can't feel anything in regards to giving birth).  Then he quickly corrects this statement as he see's her giant face emerge - the "small head" was just a funny misshapen softball sized lump on her head. Charming.  

8:21am: Next thing I know, she's here!!  I truly couldn't believe it.  The first thing I asked was, "is it a girl?" - Chris and I had a running "joke" that she was going to be a boy and he would spend the first year of his life in pink. The second thing I asked was, "is that her?" - I was quite certain that I was never ever going to give birth so this was probably someone else's baby.

They had Chris cut the cord (gross) and then whisked May to the other side of the room where they did all the little things they do to newborn babies. My favorite part was when they put her on the scale... the nurse said, "9lbs, 6oz!" and everyone in the room yelled "WOAH!" - I told you she was big.  She had a good hearty scream going on - mom and Kristen were outside the room listening to the madness (Chris and I decided we wanted it to just be us in there when May was born).  My good friend Kelly was on the phone with Kristen and actually heard May's first cries through the phone, through the door.  This kid has some lungs.  May proceeded to scream and scream for the next 20 minutes or so.  Guess when she stopped crying... just guess.  Yep, when they put her sweet, clean little body in my arms.  It was the most magical moment of my life.

Once Chris and I had a chance to snuggle our sweet little angel, we let my mom and Kristen come back in - poor things had been in the hallway for ages at this point.  The rest of the day was filled with visitors, learning to nurse, failed attempts at napping, extended stays in the nursery for May (she had a glucose situation but was fine) and lots of staring at that sweet baby.

I have tons of fun postpartum stories but will not blog about those... it think this is enough for now. :-)  Enjoy the pictures of our fist moments with our Maybug.

The official stats:

May Florence Winn

Born on March 25, 2011 at 8:21am

9lbs, 6oz

21 in

First family photo! A self-portrait, of course.  It's a Winn Family tradition.

My sweet angel... how can a "big" baby still be so tiny?!

May's first trip to the nursery... guess she was pretty content in there :-)

My boo... was she really ever this small?

Heading home!

May's Story, Part I

I was inspired by my friend Nikki to blog about May's "Birth Story" -- for one, I don't want to forget all the special little things that happened and it's already been 6 months (what?!) so I thought I better get started.

As any expectant mother can tell you, the birth story begins well before the first labor pain -- so here's our story... the unabridged version. :-)

Friday, February 4th (round about 34 weeks along): Contractions begin. Seriously. Now, I've never given birth before so I didn't know what to expect... I had been having lots of braxton hicks contractions since about week 31 or so - but these were different.  Not painful, but consistent.  I started to jot down the times... 5 minutes apart, almost to the second.  Hmm, this is a bit disconcerting but I'm not too worried since they aren't hurting and they aren't getting any closer together.  I go about my afternoon - I had a planning meeting for our big fundraiser coming up in a month, brought my little notepad in and continued to keep track (but I didn't tell anyone what was going on).  Around 4pm after 3 hours of consistent (still not painful) contractions I decided to call the doctor, just incase... after all, it's a bit early in this pregnancy to have a baby.  Of course, the doctors office has closed... perfect.  I leave a message for the on call OB to call me.  I'm still at work.  I call Chris to let him know what's going on but reassure him over and over again that it's "nothing."  I decide to wait at work for the doctor to call me back... I don't want to drive home and then back to the hospital, that would be annoying.  

An hour later I still haven't heard from the doc.  OK, I'm going home.  Doctor must be delivering a baby or performing a c-section or something.  Another hour passes, still no call.  I call again... the doctor finally calls me and says she didn't get the first page.  Great, we're off to an excellent start here. She says she's not concerned but the only way to really know is to go in.  Ugh. I pack my little hospital bag (luckily I had a list prepared for just such an occassion so I just had to go down the list). We get to the hospital - park in the wrong place and have to walk a half mile to get to the ER.  Upon checking in, they make me sit in a wheel chair.  Really? I just walked a half mile to get here... One of the ladies checking me in says "you are in for the night of your life!" I'm like, "Um, no... we aren't having a baby tonight, I haven't even had a baby shower yet... I don't have a car seat, you don't know anything, please stop talking."

They wheel me up to labor and delivery and send us to "triage" where the nicest nurses in the world get me all hooked up to some monitors and ask me questions as if I'm about to have a baby (like, "would you like an epidural? are you going to breast feed?").  The monitors are strapped to my giant belly to monitor the baby's heart beat and my contractions.  So, you'll never guess what happens once those monitors are hooked up.  Not one contraction.  Yep, hooked up to that sucker for an hour and not one contraction.  Now, to be sure, I'm super glad that I'm not in labor (although I would be THRILLED if that's what labor felt like), however... this is annoying and now I've become one of "those" ladies who goes to the hospital when she's not in labor.  Oh well, we can't take any chances, right?

These sorts of contractions continued for the next 7 weeks... not joking. My biggest concern with having this many annoying contractions leading up to labor was that I wouldn't know when I was in labor... everyone reassured me that I "would KNOW."  Ok, if you say so.

Friday, March 18th (40 Weeks!): It's the big day! The DUE DATE! No baby.  But, I do have this awesome rash taking over my body and making me itch like a crazy person on crack.  OH, and my brother had this crazy thing happen with his heart (he's OK thank goodness!) and he's currently staying at Condell Hospital... where I am going to deliver this baby one day.  So, I spent the morning of my due date at the hospital... not for the right reasons though.  Good thing I didn't have the baby on (or before) my due date or my poor mother might have lost her mind.  

I have been told by my OB's that they allow you to choose induction one week after your due date.  That's March 25th... I've had March 25th in my head for about a month now ("at least I know this baby will be out by March 25th... or 26th if she takes her time.")

Monday, March 21st: Doctor appointment! OK, they'll tell me that I'm waaay dilated and I'll be having the baby any second now... or, worst case scenario, she's coming on Friday... right? Wrong, wrong and wrong. I'm no more dilated than I was a week ago and they don't induce on Friday's... so, they can schedule my induction for Monday, March 28th.  Excuse me? That's 10 days after my due date and one week from today.  Oh, and there is nothing they can do about my rash that is taking over my body. Awesome.  The doctor leaves the room and I lay on the little bed and cried for 15 minutes.  It's not a good day and I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel (even though it is quite close).

I took this photo before my appointment... don't I look pitiful yet, hopeful?

Wednesday, March 23rd: I'm miserable. Have I mentioned the rash? (It's called PUPPS by the way and it's reserved only for pregnant ladies... cause we need another "thing" to make pregnancy miserable).  My brother is home from the hospital so mom has become my personal assistant.  I can no longer drive myself anywhere... getting off the couch to go to the bathroom is about all I can handle.  I'm not sleeping, thanks to the fact that I am the size of a woman carrying triplets, "the rash," and the unending contractions that never EVER lead to a baby.  Mom keeps giving me the "you poor thing, you look miserable" look.  This helps... a little.  Then she snaps into mother hen mode.  She strongly suggested that I call the doctor and request an appointment for the next day - so they can see my rash covered body and take pity on me and induce me sooner.  My mom is so smart.

Thursday, March 24th: Off to the doctor with mom in tow! Mom is ready to have some words with the doc if things don't go my way.  My OB is a group - there are 4 doctors and I have seen 2 of the 4 over the last month.  I get to see a new one today and, now I know, she is known for coaxing babies out... We get in there and mom is ready to take charge if necessary (I am SO pitiful at this point, I think it was hard for her to imagine me taking anything into my own hands).  Doc checks things out... no progress.  I ask her not to "sweep my membranes" (this is a little trick the OB's do to try and induce labor naturally... this would be the 3rd time in 3 weeks this has happened... obviously it's not working and it's not a pleasant process.) She asks why and I explain that we've done it twice already and it's lead to lots of painful contractions and cramping but no baby... I'm over it.  She sweeps em anyways and explains that it hasn't worked because SHE didn't do the sweeping... gee, thanks doc.  She takes a look at my rash covered body and I see something wonderful in her eyes... pity.  She feels bad for me! YAHOO! I take this moment of pity to ask if there is any chance to induce me on Friday.  She says she'll see what she can do and leaves the room. I could cry I'm so excited.  She comes back in and says - "you're scheduled for tomorrow morning at 9am."  I never thought I would be so excited to experience the worst pain of my life.  I go running (or waddling) out of the OB office with my little piece of paper like it's a golden ticket.

I get home and Chris and I decide to have dinner that night just the two of us... one last meal as a family of 2.  I'm having contractions all night but this is nothing new... they are a bit more painful than usual but I'm pretty used to ignoring them at his point.  We eat dinner and pack our bags.  We crawl into bed and talk about how it's our last night sleeping in our room without a baby - we look at her crib and talk about what it will be like to be home with a baby in just a few days. WOW, this is really happening, finally!  I'm still having contractions... they are regular and they are hurting a tiny bit... hmmmm.  We're not sure if we should go to the hospital tonight or not... I don't want to get there only to be sent home... only to go back at 8am.  I tell him that I'll decide at 10pm if we're going to go or not.  I'm just not sure.  See?  This is what I was afraid of... what if I don't know when I'm in labor? I get out of bed and walk around, knowing that the contractions will probably stop if it's not real labor.  They stop.  Of course.  No contractions for 20 minutes so I go to bed.  They start again... I roll my eyes, I'm so frustrated now... I just want to get a little sleep before I have a baby the next day.  I keep track of my contractions using the stop watch feature on my cell phone.  I starting having a pretty gnarly contraction, worst one yet, and I reach for my phone.  I feel a "pop."  Yep, my water broke.  I wasn't sure what to do at first... once I came to the conclusion that I am definitely in labor (I'm a little sleepy, cut me some slack!), I wake up Chris and he starts running around like a crazy person.  Adorable.

I'm in the bathroom trying to figure out how to get to the hospital with "waters" leaking... and I hear Chris scuttling around the apartment doing funny things like taking the garbage out and asking if I want him to start the shower.  My contractions are about 4 minutes apart and hurting like nothing I have ever felt in my whole life... wow, that was fast!  Now I know what people are talking about... there was NO mistaking that I was in labor, water or not. :-)  In between contractions I finish packing my bag and we scooch out to the car... I say "scooch" because I couldn't walk in a normal fashion anyways, then you add in these awful contractions and the long walk from our front door to the parking lot... it took forever to get there, I had to take two breaks.

We took this right before we left for the hospital, in between contractions of course!

We get in the car and I start making calls (and updating facebook, of course) to inform the troops that the baby is on her way.  I call my dad and the contractions are so bad that I can't even talk in between them anymore, I actually threw the phone at Chris so he could talk to dad. I'm feeling pretty glad that I learned how to breathe through these suckers in our childbirth class.  (Even though, during the class i was thinking, I'm having the drugs... I don't need to know this! -- Oh yeah, there could be some labor before the drugs...) By the time we get to the hospital (it's only about 15 minutes away) I'm pretty sure that the baby is going pop out any second based on the intensity of these contractions.  

We got all checked in and brought up to triage (again), and it was just like the movies... I basically assaulted the nurse and screamed "Give me the drugs!"

This seems like a good stopping point for tonight... I'll finish the rest another day.  I know, you can't wait. :-)