He's 11-Months-Old. A Month Ago, he was 10-Months-Old.

I'm behind on blogging. Sorry. But here I am ready to record Gideon's 10th and 11th month birthdays.

The past couple of months have come with a bunch of milestones for my little one. It's awesome to watch him grow. It seems like things are happening faster for him than they did for Caleb (at least motor skills-wise, the Gideon is still bald and almost toothless). People tell me that's because Gideon has Caleb to emulate. Whatever the case may be, I wish the kid would SLOW down just a little bit. He's becoming less of a baby by the day and that is bittersweet.

So during month 9 (between October 12th-November 12th) Gideon started crawling on all-fours as opposed to his favored army-crawl. He also started pulling up to standing. I walked into his room one day after his nap and there he was looking like this:

   Yes, of course I lowered the mattress after realizing he mastered this skill.

Note the proud smile.

Midnight snack? (I know he's not doing anything
special here but I thought it was cute.)

The same month marked the eruption of his first tooth and then almost immediately, his second tooth. Finally! I was beginning to think the kid might need dentures. You have to look closely but you can see them here.

Two bottom teeth.

Gideon at 10 months.

Now, month 10 through 11 (we're talking November 12th-December 12th, is this confusing anyone else but me?) was eventful too. It wasn't long (as in only several days after pulling up) before Gideon started cruising. Then those two bottom teeth were two real-deal teeth, not just little nubs. See?

He looks a BUNCH like Matt here.

Gideon celebrated his first Thanksgiving and Matt somehow convinced me to allow Gideon to have some pumpkin pie (perhaps my neurosis is waning). He was very into the pie. It was actually really cute to watch him anticipate each bite. He seemed to enjoy the turkey as well. A couple weeks later, he had his first PB & J and loved it. It was only about a quarter of a sandwich torn into small pieces but he was all about it. He's becoming more adept at eating in general and has started to eat a bit more solid food. He still much prefers what my body serves up and nurses quite a bit. That's fine by me. It's cheaper than solid food, less messy, and it's served with a side of snuggles. Not to mention the perfectly balanced nutritional content, immune system boosters, and the other countless benefits. Can't really beat that.

Gideon's temper has definitely started to show itself recently. His disdain for diaper changes continues and as he gets older and stronger, it becomes markedly more difficult to control his thrashing during said diaper changes. He's also a screamer. When he doesn't get what he wants (picture crawling baby going toward dangerous object and dangerous object being swept up before he gets to it) or when he's done being in the carseat or highchair, he lets us know. Loud and clear.

While we haven't spent nearly the amount of time signing with him as we did with Caleb, our lazy attempts have begun to pay off. He seems to have the "all done" sign down, or at least his version of it.

He babbles a lot and pays very close attention to everything his brother does. This could prove scary when Gideon is more able to imitate Caleb's behavior. He still likes playing with things that spin and roll and he enjoys being turned upside down and being tossed gently into the air. He also now lets go of things after pulling up and can stand on his own for several seconds at a time.

Here's Gideon's 11-month picture. He looks like a toddler already, doesn't he? Ah! Stop growing up so fast baby boy!

Gideon at 11 months.

And in case you're wondering how Caleb is with Gideon now that Gideon is older and more present around the house (i.e. interested in Caleb's toys and food). This picture pretty much sums up what a day in the life of Gideon is like:

Gideon's expression is priceless!

Outsourcing

Caleb becomes more and more clever as the days pass. Recently, he decided to outsource one of his tasks. He had just finished naughtily tossing bits of cheese all over the floor. My response of course was to tell him that this is unacceptable behavior and that his options were to either pick up the cheese or to have a time out. He dutifully got out of his chair and knelt down with me as I directed him to each cheese crumb and instructed that he pick it up and put it in the nearby bowl. After retrieving about three cheese bits and depositing them in the aforementioned bowl, he looks up and says, "Mommy do it," to which I tell him I will not be cleaning up his mess, that he must do it. During this exchange, Gideon has crawled his way over to us. Caleb looks up at me a second time, places a piece of cheese strategically in Gideon's path and says, "Baby eat it." While not the most compliant response to my directions, Caleb did derive two logical solutions to his predicament. I suppose I should be proud.

October Wrap-Up a Whole Month Late

I'm slacking. There were several posts I had in mind for October. I just never seemed to get around to writing them. So here is my October wrap-up if you're interested.

Disclaimer: This post is VERY picture-heavy. Avoid if you're unable to handle the sheer cuteness of my offspring. :)

My in-laws came to visit at the beginning of the month. We crammed in two outings in the short weekend they were here. If you want to see a super-excited 2-year old witness his very first dolphin show the very first time he ever set eyes on a real live dolphin while at the aquarium for his very first time, you'll most definitely want to watch this video.

I'm almost certain that the people in front of us may have thought Caleb was a bit too excited, but I thought it was pretty endearing. In fact, I had to sort of choke back tears since I've never seen Caleb (as a toddler at least) that excited about anything before. It was pretty awesome!

Then they took us to a harvest festival. Caleb had a blast pedaling the little tractors, playing in the corn bins, seeing the animals, taking a hayride, and picking pumpkins. Gideon relaxed in the stroller and wound up with his first sunburn. Nothing major, just slightly pink cheeks and nose...not that it made me feel any less guilty for not putting sunblock on him. (Note to self: your children are EXTREMELY pale, use sunblock often and generously!).

Future farmer of America? Perhaps.

Gids and Pop-O. 

Caleb hitchin' a ride on Dad.

Yup, that's a pretty good depiction of us.

Nonna and Caleb on the hayride.

I guess this is how he picks the "right" one?

It passed the taste test.

Cutest pumpkin in the patch for sure.

And that? That's just cute! 

Matt spent some time raking the leaves into a pile one weekend for the sole purpose of Caleb jumping in them. He had a good time.

At the end of the month, we celebrated Halloween by dressing the boys in costumes and taking them for their first trick-or-treat. Gideon was only along for the ride. We did not exploit him to gather candy for ourselves, although we did consider it.

My little knight.

Superbaby. Hard to believe Caleb wore this
last year.

Full regalia.

Double-fist lollipops. He was pumped!

We're still eating Halloween candy. I can't imagine if we'd made it farther than just around the block. And while we didn't take advantage of the offer, the best thing we came across was a family giving out hot dogs and hot apple cider to the parents of the trick-or-treaters. Awesome!

Phew! Thanks for hanging in till the bitter end. October wrap-up is officially complete. Now, I better get on November right away!

It's the Little Things

You know how I know that Matt loves me? I mean other than the fact that he works hard to provide for our family, he cleans the house, he kisses me goodbye every morning and hello every evening, he endures my endless nagging, reassures me when I'm doubting my effectiveness as a parent. Besides all that? 

Yesterday, I was recovering from a nasty stomach bug, one that both Caleb and Matt had just gotten over as well. I had just tucked Caleb in and went into our bedroom where Matt was lying in bed reading. He looked up at me and said, "I know you said you're cold. I put the heating pad under the covers so when you're ready to sleep, it will be nice and warm." I'm pretty sure my heart melted right there on the spot. It's the little things folks! How thoughtful is that? 

I love this man!

It's Cold Now but it wasn't Then

I'm going to pretend that I was super-clever and decided to wait until a chilly day like today to post these pictures. Ya know, as if I had forethought and knew I'd want to be reminded of summer's warmth and the beach. It's more likely however that I just never got around to blogging about the boys' first trip to the beach. So, I'll do it now.

Over the summer, the same weekend as our sixth anniversary, we took advantage of my parents' close proximity to the beach and introduced the little ones to the surf and sand. Even though Matt and I had planned on taking the boys to the beach that day, because I'm neurotic and tend toward being anxious, it took some convincing for me to agree to actually go when the day arrived. I could just picture Gideon eating fistfuls of sand and Caleb charging toward the ocean only to be swept away by a large wave. Or more likely, Caleb running up to a group of people and stealing their sandwiches or their children's toys or even knocking over a sandcastle built by a darling little toddler wearing tiny glasses (I have a thing with kids in glasses, it's like they need extra protection or something).

Of course it was nothing like that. We got to the beach and hung out with little to no drama. Caleb loved it and he was cautious of the ocean so my fear of him drowning was put to rest shortly after arriving. The section of beach we chose wasn't crowded so that helped prevent my other fears from occurring and Gideon stayed planted on the beach blanket so no sandy snack for him. It was a really good time actually.

Headed to the beach.

Matt's disgust at how many pictures I requested he take.

I call this "Little Boy, Big Ocean" 

This one is entitled "Baby on Blanket"

Gideon's first toes-in-the-ocean experience and Matt's
AMAZING farmer's tan!

It was pretty impossible to get him to stand still.
This was about the best I could do.

Yay! Lets bathe in sand! 

What I hadn't anticipated was how long it would take for us to leave the beach! I should have gotten myself worked up over that! We spent the same amount of time packing the kids up, walking down to the bathroom, rinsing the kids off, changing diapers, wrestling/putting kids in dry clothes, walking back to the car, nursing the baby, getting kids snugly in their carseats and then finally setting off for the drive back to my parents' house as we had spent on the beach. That was the stressful part. Thankfully, the making memories part outweighs the stress part hands down every time!

Because I Need a Reminder

I need a reminder that all my hard work is not going to the wayside. I need a reminder that Caleb is two and irrational and impulsive and illogical. And that it's completely normal. I need a reminder that somewhere in his adorable skull, there are synapses forming that will allow him to one day be completely responsible and wonderful and good at decision-making. Right now it's really hard to see that that day will come. Ever. Right now it feels like I'm the mom every other mom is completely thankful not to be since my kid can be so wild and out-of-control. Right now I'm the mom who would have gladly crawled into a deep, dark hole this morning because my kid ran amuck and refused to stop tackling his playmate.

So, because I need a reminder that it's really and truly not that bad all of the time, here's a list of my firstborn's recent cuteness:

-he calls a toucan a 'tooth-can'
-he calls a caterpillar a 'cat-ah-pillow'
-When he has something stuck in his teeth, he looks up at me with pleading eyes and says, "I need floss!"
-When he wants a certain anything he begins with "How 'bout...(fill in the blank with a snack, tv show, toy)"
-He exclaims "Holy mackerel!" at appropriate times.
-Recently, after he fell off of his toy truck, I asked what he was doing. He responded with, "falling."
-When I'm walking up or down the stairs with him and he wants me to carry him he says, "carry you" and holds his arms up waiting for me to pick him up.
-A couple of weeks ago, he would randomly put on Mr. Potato Head's glasses and just go about his business all nonchalantly.
-At 3am this morning when he wandered into our bedroom, he laid still on my chest for a few minutes, matter-of-factly kissed me on the cheek, then put his head back down.

Parenting is a tough gig! I just need to remain cognizant of the rewards even when the challenges seem to overshadow them.

That was a Quick Nine Months

It seems like only yesterday I was holding a 7lb, 3oz baby in my arms and wondering why his nose looked so large and why his ears seemed weirdly flattened against his head (hey, I know it sounds mean but I can't be the ONLY mom who thought her newborn looked slightly um...different than she imagined).

Seriously though? I loved every inch of
him from the moment I laid eyes on him.

But, here he is a whole nine months later and he's SO stinkin' cute and smiley and bouncy and awesome!  You think so too, right?

Gideon on 10.12.11 at 9 months old.

Here's the rundown:
-weight: 22 lbs, 3.5 oz (yow-zah! This kid is BIG!)
-length:  29.5 in. (see above parenthetical comment)
-diet: I'd say at least 90% mama's milk and only 10% table food (Who says nursing babies need solids? ha! See above parenthetical comment)
-teeth: still no teeth, but his bottom gum feels a little rough and I can see the whiteness right underneath so I'm guessing soon
-loves: bouncing, smiling, giggling, and outside
-hates: diaper changes and really loud noises
-milestones: He can independently go from lying down to sitting upright, he army crawls like a champ, he appears to be a Yoga natural (he frequently puts himself in a "downward dog" pose). He has mastered a multitude of consonant/vowel sound combos.

Gideon is such a sweet little guy. It's neat to watch his personality develop and I'm excited to learn what he'll be like as he grows older. I really can't believe that he's only 3 months away from being a year old though. How in the world does time go by so quickly???

As an aside, my mother-in-law sent me a picture of Matt as a 9-month-old. I keep hearing from people that Gideon looks like me. I stand by the notion that he looks a LOT like his daddy. You be the judge.

Cupcakes + Babies

I was looking through pictures with Caleb this morning, we do that a lot recently which makes for one nostalgic Mama. Anyway, we came across this priceless shot from his first birthday. Awesome, right?

His introduction and subsequent reaction
to the cupcake.

So, I have this thing with my kids. I decided when Caleb started solids that I'd wait until my children's first birthday to offer them cake/cupcakes and ice cream. You know, like a rite of passage but more importantly because I'm committed to providing a healthy foundation for my children's food choices...okay and maybe because I'm a little neurotic.

The littlest cutie in residence.

Fast-forward a bit and I now have a 7-month-old Gideon (yes, this story is a bit late in making it to the blog) and we're at my friend's son's second birthday party. Matt graciously takes Gideon from me so that I can eat, mingle, and chase after Caleb without an additional 20 pounds in my arms.

I'm in the kitchen gathering up some munchies and I spot Matt grabbing a cupcake. There he is with cupcake in one hand and baby in the opposing arm. Remember how I said I'm neurotic? Well, I envision Matt either a) offering some of the cupcake to Gideon even though I know there's only about a 5 percent chance he'd actually do that considering he's fully aware of both my neurotic tendencies and my "no cupcakes until first birthday" rule or b) Gideon succeeding in squirming his way to the cupcake and Matt not being aware quick enough to catch him doing it.

In my wifely fashion, I begin nagging. "Matt, don't give him a taste of that cupcake. Don't let Gideon get to the cupcake. Matt, look at him eyeing that thing." Matt assures me that, under his watchful eye, Gideon will not be consuming any cupcake. Here's where the neurosis really rears its ugly head..."Matt, just give him to me so you can eat your cupcake (translation: "Give him to me so I can be absolutely sure there is no way this baby is going to have any cupcake today or at all until January 12th, 2012."). Matt hands Gideon over.

I go to the kitchen to grab a cupcake for Caleb. So here I am, cupcake in one hand, baby in opposing arm. Do you see where this is going? I walk out to the deck to give Caleb his cupcake. I direct Caleb to get up into the chair and, with my hips, I scooch the chair up to the table. As I'm distracted, Gideon sees his opening and SWIPE, he now has a HUGE handful of chocolate frosting and cupcake. Oh no! All my hopes and dreams are dashed! It's five months too early for this baby to be eating a cupcake. And his hand is SO messy. And he's starting to lick it. And now he's touching his head with his chocolatey hand! And now he's touching me with his chocolatey hand! Fortunately there are people around and in my attempt to seem less crazy, I don't totally freak out. Rather, I minimally freak out. Others ask if I want them to quickly wipe his hand off or if I need them to take him from me so I have hands to deal with the situation. I politely decline and act easy-breezy. "No, I'm okay. No big deal. It's only a little chocolate frosting."

Of course, that's the truth. It really isn't a big deal. I think maybe that's one of the jobs of second children. They reveal to parents how very little control we truly have and they help to make us a little more accepting of life's circumstances. While it might be almost doable to manage tiny details of baby number one's life, it's impossible to micro-manage every little thing when you're caring for two (or more) children. But rather than it being a disappointment, I like to view it as 'icing on the cake' (Totally corny pun but I couldn't resist). Coming to this realization gives parents the license to relax a little, to spend less time fretting, and more time enjoying. It frees up a lot of mental space. And if you're a mom, you know that we need all the mental space we can scrounge up!

Gideon is 8 Months Old

Baby Boy turned 8-months last week! SO hard to believe. He's a big dude, already wearing 12-month clothes, and looking like 18-month clothes will be in his very near future! Regardless of size, he's still totally toothless! This is fine by me since it allows me to hold onto his early babyhood even longer. And, the gummy grin is to die for of course. Agreed?

What else is new with him you ask? Well, he babbles all sorts of things and I love to hear the mama's and dada's among so many other sounds. He claps and will even respond by clapping when we say "clap, clap, clap." He can sit unassisted but seems to lose focus easily and fall over if he reaches for something, so we can't just sit him up and walk away. He started army crawling (just like Caleb used to do) within the past few weeks. He's already fast and furious on the hardwood floors. His newest thing is waving. It's a very floppy-handed wave, but it's so cute! Just yesterday morning as I was awakened by his happy shrieks and babbling, I peeked next to me and he waved. It was too early, in my book, to be awake but that was a pretty awesome morning greeting!

One of my favorite things is to observe Gideon and Caleb during dinner. They're on opposite sides of the table and oftentimes, Gideon will start babbling something and then Caleb will imitate the noise, then they go back and forth like that. Caleb starts giggling, then Gideon follows suit. Matt and I just sit back and laugh. It's really neat to see the boys have fun together.

While it's a tad bittersweet to watch Gideon grow and change so quickly, I look forward to seeing what he learns and how he matures on a daily basis. After witnessing how fast Caleb's first 2 years went, I try really hard to cherish each little milestone and stage, knowing that it will all be a memory in the blink of an eye.

My "little" guy at 8-months old!

For nostalgia's sake, Caleb at 8-months old!

You Know You're a Tired Mama when...

...it takes you three bites to realize you're using your toddler's spoon.

Perspective

I'm a brat! There, I said it. This isn't exactly news to me but sometimes my brattiness is super-glaring like it was today. I was on my way to a friend's house (sidenote: She's pretty much a Supermom, she has 4 kids, and you should probably read her blog). I, of course was behind schedule even though I've been up since 5:30am and didn't need to leave my house until 9:30am. But, with two kids, things come up. A diaper-change here, a trip to the potty there (I'll blog about potty-training when I'm through the thick of it), a half-naked toddler running through the house refusing to put his shorts back on. You get the point.

So, because I was behind schedule, I was feeling impatient on the road. I get to the interstate, about 3 miles from my exit and traffic is BACKED up, a WHOLE lot. I was not happy to say the least. I'm huffing and puffing to myself since the kids wouldn't know what I was complaining about even if I did share my thoughts aloud. I'm feeling my blood pressure rise as I'm hoping all this clears up so I can get to where I need to be, sooner rather than later! The reel in my head is playing a movie where Gideon starts screaming and crying, Caleb wets his pants, Caleb wants a snack which I don't have to offer, and I'm completely stuck on the road, helpless and annoyed. This only serves to make me more frustrated. Thankfully, the stars align and traffic starts moving more quickly. FINALLY! That several minutes of back-up certainly got me perturbed.

Then, as I approach what was delaying things, perspective comes up and smacks me REALLY hard in the face. There's a big rig on its side, lying across the median, the cab is completely mangled, almost unrecognizable. I'm not certain about the outcome of those involved and I can't find anything on the internet yet. But judging by the screen set up to block drivers' views and the number of people on-scene, I'm guessing that there might be a wife who no longer has a husband and a child or children who no longer have a Daddy.

Can you see the glaring brattiness? It's almost too bright to look at!

I took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, swallowed the lump in my throat, and realized how quickly I get sidetracked by meaningless stressors. Too often I forget the ridiculous number of completely undeserved, unearned blessings I have and that I continuously receive. So what if I'm late to a play-date? So what if Caleb pees his pants? So what if I'm stuck on the side of the road with two little ones? Seriously? If I have time to freak myself out about such pointless stuff, I must have it REALLY REALLY good!

Big shout out to G-O-D for serving up a healthy dose of perspective! Now, lets hope I can keep this at the front of my brain on a daily basis. I clearly seem to struggle with that.

The One where we Celebrate Six Years of Marriage

1 apartment, 1 house, 2 new cars, one master's degree, 12 jobs, and 2 kids later, we celebrated our sixth anniversary. This anniversary also marked our annual date night. I know, sad right? Annual, as in once-per-year. I remember a time when we had a weekly date-night. That was before children. Just stating a fact, not complaining. And it's totally my doing since I admittedly have a smidgen of a control issue and don't really like leaving my kids with other people. Add the part about not using bottles for my nursing baby. Oh and maybe the not wanting to spend a ton of money thing too. Bottom line, we don't get out a whole lot. We do get plenty of one-on-one time in the evenings though and we make a point to make things "datey." We'll watch a movie, snuggle on the couch, eat fattening foods. It works out.

Anywho, we were visiting my parents the week of our anniversary so they took charge of the little ones while we went on a bonafide date. We got all dolled up, which actually means I got dressed up and Matt begrudgingly put on a polo (I have photographic evidence below).

We clean up pretty well I think.

Then we went out. It took me a good half hour to shake the weird feeling of not having children with us and I may have had Matt check his phone more than a couple of times to make sure my parents hadn't called to tell us we needed to be home post-haste. But minus that and the 20-minute drive to "this new Italian place" my mom sent us to that unbeknownst to her, wound up being closed for remodeling, we had an awesome time. We had an appetizer, entree, drinks, and dessert. All of this at a leisurely pace without random shrieks, flying utensils, yogurt-covered hands, or farting (thanks Matt).

We had an amazing time, as we generally do anytime we're together. We told one another how we love the other one "more everyday" and we meant it. Marriage is awesome. It's not all rainbows, butterflies, and unicorns but the storms, bees, and dragons make us stronger (see what I did there with the juxtaposition?). You know how you hear about the "7 year itch"? Well, I think I have the 6 year itch, except it's not me itching to get out of the marriage, it's me itching to see what the next day, month, 6, 10, 40 years bring our way. I love you Matt. Thanks for being you and thanks for inviting me to share our lives together.

Like Father Like Son or So he Hopes

The hubs is a geek. This is why: he plays computer games, emphasis on the computer. I emphasize that because I find it's actually pretty typical, non-geek-like, and maybe even "cool" for grown men to play video games. Not so much the case with computer games. I mean, we have a Playstation 2, proof in itself that it's rarely played (since there's probably a PS 5 by now) and a Wii, but we really only use that for Netflix these days. The gaming console just isn't his preferred route to entertainment.

Okay, he can hang with the military stuff, but you won't find any Madden games under this roof. Matt prefers RPG's or what those of us not in his world would call role-playing-games. I know you automatically envision "Dungeons and Dragons" and a 12-year old boy wearing a hooded cape while wielding a sword. Scratch that vision, my husband does still have his dignity. He doesn't play D&D but he plays this text-based game (I know, text based? I had never heard of such a thing either before I met Matt.) that could probably rival it. I won't bore you with details but basically you can cast spells and gain confidence or something like that. Oh, and there are wizards involved.

As of late, Matt's evening gaming consists of playing "Team-Foretress-2" which he lovingly refers to as "TF2." This is the type of game where he gangs up with others from out in the webisphere and commands them to "protect my flank" and warns them that there's a "spy medic" lurking somewhere. He literally says these things, as in out loud, in an urgent tone while wearing the gigantic headset you see him donning in the photo above. I'll stop here, my point has been made. 

Anyway, I'm pretty sure Matt dreams of the day when the boys will be old enough to be interested in such geekiness. So, as a mother might paint her young daughter's nails dreaming of the teenager to come, Matt has this (see picture below):

noob!

If this is what the boys become interested in when they're teens, at least I won't have to worry about dating. ;)

A Birth Story- Two Years Later

Caleb turned two this past Monday! Unbelievable! I've said it before and I'll say it again; time flies! Fast.

Stats: -36 in. tall
          -30 lbs
          -loves: yogurt, his brother, trains, and screaming
          -hates: vegetables, being told no, and bedtime

He's two and not-so-terrible I suppose. He's a handful and he's mischievous but for the most part, he's a really fun kid.

Caleb at 2 years old.

Caleb at 1 year old.

Caleb at 4 days old.

To commemorate his day of birth, I figured I'd go ahead and write his birth story.This way I won't feel super-guilty for having Gideon's birth story in writing and not having Caleb's. I cannot promise absolute accuracy considering I've probably lost half of my brain matter in the past two years but I'll do my best.

July  31, 2009
3:00pm:  I've been having contractions on and off throughout the day but now is when I realize this is probably the real deal and not just Braxton-Hicks.

3:30pm:  Matt gets home from work, I let him know I'm thinking we'll probably be having a baby soon and that we really need to finish painting the hallway before that occurs.

4:30pm:  I begin questioning if I'm really in labor or not. The contractions don't seem super-regular nor are they all that painful at this point.

6:00pm:  Matt convinces me I should eat something before we start painting and I oblige. I think I had a granola bar and some other snack-type thing. I'm pretty sure I didn't consume a full meal.

7:15pm:  We get the drop-cloths down and get to painting.

8:30pm:  As time wears on, my contractions start getting more intense and I find myself having to sit down, paint-roller in hand, to breathe through the contractions. Of course I get right back up and keep painting.  I know that movement coaxes labor and I'm all about that.

9:15pm:  He finishes painting and tidies up while I ride out the now pretty intense contractions downstairs. I try to lie down but I can't get comfortable and I certainly can't sleep.

9:30pm - midnight:  This time consists of me sitting on an exercise ball and the floor while breathing through contractions. I spend some time in the bathtub which I don't find particularly soothing.  Matt starts timing contractions and they're not following the "typical" pattern. They seem to be on top of each other and the duration is long. I sit on the floor for a while and breathe. Matt makes sure I'm staying hydrated. I start making some groaning noises while contracting. Matt tells me he'll call the midwife around 12:30 if things keep up the way they've been going.

August 1, 2009
12:30am:  Matt gets in contact with the midwife and tells her what's up. They agree that we'll meet at her office for her to "check my progress" and then decide what to do from there. We do some last minute packing and head out. The drive down town is rough.  Sitting still while experiencing contractions is uncomfortable.  Matt talks me through the contractions and we make it to the office. We wait on the front steps until the midwife arrives to unlock the door.

1:00am: I'm on the exam table and the midwife lets me know she'd like to check my dilation both while I'm having a contraction and while I'm not. She checks me first while I'm not contracting and it's painful! I say, "If you tell me I'm less than 4cm, I'm running away."  I know that this would mean I'm heading back home to wait it out, I don't want to do that. Not to worry, she tells me that I'm "5 to 6 with a bulging bag of waters" and that she doesn't need to check me while contracting. Thank God! I'm relieved that things are progressing well. I sit on the waiting room floor while the midwife calls the hospital to let them know she'll be admitting me. When she gets off the phone she seems a little concerned. I ask, "No rooms with tubs available?" She says, "You'll be lucky if you get a room at all!" Apparently, there are a TON of people having babies.  We call our parents to tell them we're going to go have our baby and then send out a pre-typed text to our friends to let them know the same.

1:30am:  We arrive at the hospital and start the check-in process. The person collecting IDs asks me multiple times if I need a wheelchair. I assure her I'm just fine and head over to the elevator.  We are pointed toward the admissions area.  While sitting with the admissions clerk, she tells me how many women are giving birth and that they're waiting on a room. Matt senses my concern and says, "You don't need a room, all you need is me and the Lord!" Preach it brother! I'm immediately calm and the admissions clerk praises Jesus. We all smile and she sends me out into the hall to wait.

1:45am:  I'm sent to triage for them to start my antibiotic IV (I'm GBS positive and this is protocol).  I labor a while in the triage room and listen to the couple on the other side of the curtain.  She's pregnant and fell down the stairs but luckily everything is okay. I change my clothes and breathe through intensifying contractions as I wait to be transferred to a labor/delivery room.

2:15am-4:00am: I make the trek down the hall to a real room. One without another couple in it. One with dim lighting and quiet. The midwife hunkers down in the rocking chair, the labor and delivery nurse goes in and out of the room. Matt sits down next to the window. I pace. A lot. Back and forth. Over and over. I have an inner-dialogue going, "you can do this, the pain will end, almost over." I weigh in my mind if this type of pain would be worth an epidural or spinal block; a resounding NO. This is tolerable pain because it comes in waves as opposed to being continuous and I can't imagine not being able to walk around freely. Matt offers me water frequently and talks to me when he senses I might need some encouragement. The midwife pretty much leaves Matt and me to do our husband-coached birthing thing. She throws out some comments about how close I am to having this baby (I'm thankful to hear that).  Every so often, I have to lie on the bed while they listen for the baby's heart tones and take my blood pressure. I say at one point that I think I have to use the bathroom and not in the empty-my-bladder type of way.  The midwife tells me she's pretty sure I probably don't have to do what I think I have to do and that instead, it's most likely the baby causing this sensation. I head to the bathroom anyway. I can't help but push while I'm contracting and the midwife calls out from the room, "Don't labor in there too long, I don't want to deliver the baby on the toilet!" I'm convinced at this point that there won't be any moving-of-bowels and I come back into the room.  The L&D nurse mentions that things could go more quickly if they break my water. The midwife quickly interjects and lets her know that "They don't want to do that." Woohoo, she is abiding by and supporting my birth plan!  The pushing sensation gets stronger and stronger. I wrap my arms around Matt's neck and sort of hang my weight on him as I squat a little and yell, "This kid needs to come out now!" and I give one good push.

4:00am: It's show time! The midwife checks me (ouch!) and tells me I'm "9cm with a cervical lip," to which I reply, "You can push that out of the way, right?" She confirms that's the case and she tells me I can push with the next contraction. The hospital bed is neat in that rather than the lower half coming completely off as do most labor beds, the lower half on this bed drops a few inches. This allows me to be in a semi-squatting position. I'm scooted all the way to the edge of the bed and my legs are up with my feet resting on the now-dropped lower half of the bed (Sorry if you can't envision that. Just know that this position is FAR superior to the commonly used flat-on-your-back-completely-fighting-gravity position).I do some pushing. The midwife tells me I'm pushing well and that if I keep it up it won't be long until I see my baby. This is good to hear but I'm getting tired and sometimes feel like I might pass out while pushing. I have to be reminded to breathe so as not to faint. I push and then kiss Matt during pushing breaks (if you're done gagging yourself, please keep reading). Matt continues to give me water (way to go coach!). The labor/delivery nurse has to feel my abdomen to tell me if I'm still contracting during pushes so I know to push longer. I guess I stop feeling the contractions during pushing or something because when they asked me if I was still contracting I just say, "I dunno". Anyway, at one point when I'm saying, "I can't do this much longer, I can't do this for 6 hours (um..that comment would be because the midwife previously told me how she caught a baby a couple of weeks before after the woman pushed for over 6 hours)," the midwife tells Matt to look at the head. Matt does and tells me that he can in fact see the head.  I hear a loud knocking at the door and a familiar voice, "Permission to enter?", the midwife and nurse look at me and I shout, "No Dad, I'm pushing!". The nurse heads to the door and makes sure my dad finds his way back to the waiting room. Then they tell me to reach down and feel my baby's head. Which I do. Amazing. This is really going to happen soon! Yay! So, I push to the point of crowning and then my contractions stop!  I demand to push without contractions at this point and I'm given the okay.

5:08am: One hard push. There's my baby's head and then the rest of him just like that. He's born "en-caul", meaning that he's still in that "bulging bag of waters" I had earlier. A gush of fluid happens just as he comes out  so his head and feet our still veiled in the bag. Pretty cool. They remove this from him and place him immediately on my chest. He looks up at me with wide eyes and blinks a few times. He's relatively quiet other than some grunting. As I'm basking in this moment, the midwife makes a comment about him being "gray and floppy."  They cut the cord (haha, first time I think I've used that phrase in the literal sense) and take him over to the warming table. Commence freak-out. I start breathing heavily and asking what's wrong. I see the nurse over at the warming table with my baby and I hear her call a "code" over the PA system. Not okay. What is going on?  A bunch of people rush into the room. The midwife stays by my side to calm me down. Matt stays close to our newborn, stroking his hand. I ask if Caleb's being resuscitated, the midwife doesn't exactly answer but tells me that things will be okay and that I need to breathe. I'm semi-hysterical, crying a little, confused, unsure what to think.  The pediatrician enters the room, the sea of people parts, the pediatrician looks at my little man cub and proclaims, "There's nothing wrong with this baby, he's fine." Apparently, in the time it took for the pediatrician to come down to my room, Caleb pinked up, started crying, and showed good muscle tone. I take a deep breath. They give my baby back to me, I settle in to nurse him for the first time and all is well with the world.

Caleb a few minutes old.

A mother is born.

A family is born.