One month ago, my crazy pregnancy journey came to an end and we spent the evening snuggling the sweetest baby BOY. And it's been a month, but it still seems so unreal. I prayed so many prayers for you. We spent so many times discussing who might possibly be wreaking so much havoc. I could never have pictured you then, but now your face seems like it's been bookmarked in my heart for my entire life.
At one month old, you have started smiling in response to us. Your smiles came over and over again at your daddy and sisters singing you "Tomorrow, Tomorrow" - there may have been squeals, smiles, tears, and a few video attempts. I treasure these firsts and think of the yesterdays fondly with a small bit of sadness at the days gone by.
Your sleepy days are a thing of the past. You still sleep a lot, but you are very alert in spurts. You love to look around, and prefer to be held upright so that you can see. You are a decent sleeper at night, sleeping 3-5 hours at a time. This is slightly more to be expected than the five hours stretches you did for the first two weeks. No swaddles as it restricts your hands, and you seem to be the most comfortable in gowns with a blanket around you (away from your arms and face).
You tip the scales at 9.4 lbs (10-25th percentile) and are 21 inches long (10th percentile). I feel like I watch you grow each morning!
You reserve a very small part of your day to be without touching me. I usually spend those moments running around like a maniac to get the essential things accomplished. This idea you have makes riding in the car a very stressful business. White noise and hand-holding has a small chance of convincing you that you aren't in fact being tortured, and then my sanity has already been stolen by the impossibility of hearing anything except for blaring white noise. I left you for the first time to go to bible study this month. When I got home, the house was dark and quiet, but your daddy said to me, "I couldn't put him down all night. I had to do everything one-handed!"
That about sums up my days with you.
The first month held your first Halloween, your first bath (the maddest I have ever seen you!), your first movie (Big Hero 6), and a whole host of others.
I can't believe I get to write more love letters. As you are stretched out across my legs, making your sweet baby noises, I can't help the emotional storm. I don't know how this beautiful life is mine, and the realization that I have only known you for a month is astounding. Motherhood is funny that way.
Thirty-one days and a lifetime to go. I am blessed to call you mine, to watch you grow, to hold your precious little hands in mine. We love you more than you could ever imagine.
Four weeks now. What? Time: a creature of magical proportions. Stopping all things to a snail's pace during pregnancy and then picking up the slack and dragging me from milestone to milestone.
I'm soaking things up. This is the fastest one yet. I sort of mourn the days gone by - I'll never get them back and things I want in my memories will most surely slip through the cracks. I want to freeze time. I want to capture his smell and his sleep-drunk, dimpled smiles. I want to remember how soft his baby skin is and the size of his tiny, perfect fingernails.
I don't even know how to sum up my life. I feel like I may have stolen someone else's. How do we have three sweet, beautiful children?
Some differences in the transition from 2-3 kiddos. Car rides are much louder. Luca, just like Eisley as a baby, hates the car. I am never on time. And when I'm anywhere close to being on time, it's because I left the house in a whirlwind of chaos, and stuff thrown everywhere. Showers are fewer, meals and coffee are reheated. More than once. I'm terrified to make phone calls because of the volume levels in my house. Laundry. Oh, the laundry.
But then, there's a whole lot of love. And sweet memories from the little moments. And so many snuggles.
I used to be timely with such love notes and documenting your milestones. Then I had two other little people to fraction my attention. I'm going to go ahead and consider this being within the same week a victory.
Six years old. It seems impossible. Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe you are mine, let alone that you have been apart of our lives for that long. You are the very illustration of the thought: my heart is walking around outside of my body. Being that you are my first - my little guinea pig - there are so many unknowns. Sending you to school is exciting and absolutely terrifying. I love hearing about your friends and the things you love about school (everything!) but to think of anything negative happening to your precious little self makes me nervous every single day.
You have always had such an unselfish love for the rest of the world. Compassionate and a caring heart that humbles me greatly. After spending most of this year being pregnant and very sick, that appreciation has been magnified greatly. Hearing prayers of healing being whispered over your lips repeatedly, your helpfulness with Eisley and around the house has been so far beyond your years. I'm thankful for your love and awareness for others' needs.
You learned to read at the beginning of February. Watching the pieces fall into place and your look of delight as you read was amazing to witness. You have since mastered the BOB books and point out various words and phrases that are familiar. You love the idea of chapter books and we have begun reading them at bedtime.
Your imagination continues to embellish pretend play in the most amazing ways. You love to play school and and recently, you spend a lot of time writing stories. Your first story, written in October, was about you and Eisley being super heros and rescuing cats and catching bad guys. You are inspired by Doc McStuffins and create casts out of paper and stickers.
You sing along to the songs on the radio, count to 100, and teach Eisley addition facts to pass the time in the car. You love going to ballet and I can always count on you to remember things at the store that didn't make my shopping list.
This fall, you went to a cheerleading clinic and then got to cheer at one of daddy's football games. You told me, "All of my dreams came true, I am a REAL cheerleader!"
Most recently, I feel like the size of my heart must have quadrupled with the love I now hold for you (and your siblings). Watching you love Luca and appreciate the smallest details delights me in a way I find impossible to put into words. Just the other day, you helped me put his tiny clothes into a basket from the dryer. It took you about twelve times longer than it should have, and upon inspection, we discovered you were pulling things out one at a time with excited squeals, "This is SO CUTE!" You sing to him and rock him and just love him. You marvel at the miracle of life and his tiny, perfect little body.
Other things you love include, but are not limited to: Jesus, waffles, princesses, arts and crafts, pedicures, family, singing, and school.
Six years old seems impossibly too old, but your wonder about the world and the way you love without question makes me realize how little six really is. We are crazy in love with you and what you bring to our family.
Tuesday (the 21st) I had a long conversation with my doctor regarding the possibilities of accidentally birthing a baby somewhere other than a hospital. She told me she would be in touch with the hospital and call me to let me know the plan after we decided an induction seemed safest (I have very mixed opinions - still - regarding this). Months and months ago, I dreamt of meeting a baby on the 23 and have held onto the dream ever since. Minutes later, my phone rang. I was to check in at the hospital on the 23rd at 7:30 am.
The nice side of induction is the ability to make plans in advance and have no worries about the frantic nature of making plans at the last minute. And despite the fact that I knew pregnancy had to end sometime, the shock of it all was astounding. I found it worse to know for days about when exactly we would meet our baby.
Wednesday showed up with Aunt Sara's arrival and plans for pedicures after one last stop at Babies R Us. Family rolled in that night - we did a last pre-baby dinner at Red Lobster where they made a special dessert for the girls and for the baby's impending arrival. It was a nice way to stop thinking about the events of the next day. The peace vanished when we got home. We made last minute plans and arrangements, but my head felt like a never-ending reel of thoughts. I slept a solid three hours before I was up and unable to sleep much more.
Six o'clock came early, but it was the start of something magical. I called the hospital to confirm, and things started happening. The girls were up and eating, and the rest of the house was abuzz with excitement. I was so excited and absolutely terrified of what the day held.
Walking into the hospital with belongings and snacks and a whole support system felt a bit like we were checking into a hotel for a great time - the panicked flutters of my stomach were a different story. And also the hospital gown sort of ruined the vacation vibe. My midwife and doctor met us there at 8:00. I could spend hours talking about my love for the both of them. They have given me the absolute best care. We discussed different induction options and ended up going with having my water broken first to see what my body would do. That happened at 8:30, and basically was all fun until 1:00 when I found out nothing had happened. Even with a prideful walk to the cafeteria in the aforementioned hospital attire PLUS the amazing hospital socks. The doctor said she was pretty sure baby had hair; something I found hard to believe but something that ended up propelling my ability to focus through things later. We don't make babies with hair!
So then, pitocin happened. And for awhile, it was still fun. My sister made me laugh so hard, the nurse came into see if I was laughing or puking as the spiked lines on the contraction monitor picked up. For once in the entire pregnancy, the puking was trumped with uncontrollable laughter. Let me just say - my nurse? Also absolutely amazing. She left with the instructions to keep laughing; life is better that way. I laughed my way to three o'clock when I had to stop laughing so hard, as they made my contractions a bit more intense. And then four o'clock happened and I wished I could see 3:00 again. I had feelings that baby was turned funny which was likely halting the rapid progress everyone had expected. We walked and rocked and suddenly, I wanted to disappear. I knew things were happening. The trips to the bathroom with my pole and my husband were things I will never forget. It always ended in laughter which seems quite inappropriate, but it was more like I needed to speak without a filter for a few solid minutes before returning. 4:00 also put the kabosh on this. Instead, I said things like, "I'm not gonna get a gold star for doing this without medicine, right?" I also (allegedly) said, "I feel like an animal in the zoo."
By 5:00, the contractions were on top of one another leaving my body tense and tired, something I knew wasn't good for productivity. I asked about my pain options, and we decided on a dose of Fentenyl. Something that immediately sparked jokes about margaritas. The idea was that you are to have back to back doses for it to maximize the potential for relieving pain. The second dose never happened. After receiving the first one at 5:24, the pitocin was shut off and my doctor was on her way. I was in another world. The nurse made a comment to Jimmy in reference to peanut's heart rate - she showed him that it had responded when the doctor had touched its head. I remember thinking I wanted to yell, "WHO CARES!" Now I think it's extremely amazing that things like this happen, and I'm glad she took the time to share the moment with us.
Right before six, I was told baby was a bit crooked (I had mentioned this many hours earlier - I just felt like it wasn't quite in the right position) and after an extremely uncomfortable encounter with the peanut ball, I knew my baby would be here soon. Shortly before 6:00, my body began working - something I am absolutely amazed by. There was not one time of counting, nothing forced and unnatural. At 6:07, I pulled my baby onto my chest and felt the biggest rush of relief.
We heard, "What is it??" I hadn't even cared. I had a perfect baby on my chest, and it was over. I picked baby up and saw boy parts - UNREAL. It was absolutely shocking and such an awesome surprise. And he had hair! I will never forget the moments each of my babies were placed on me and the moments beyond. Luca spent the first hours of his life showing us that he knows his hands and their comforting abilities very well.
Fun fact: my placenta was heart-shaped.
He weighed in at 7 pounds, 10 ounces and was 20 inches long. Jimmy and I welcomed family to love on him, and then spent the night admiring him...after the most delicious dinner of my life - a sub sandwich and a huge soda. Jimmy took this opportunity for Luca's first lesson in sports as Sports Center played in the background. You know the hospital thing where they want vitals every fifteen minutes (fine, three hours.) so I basically slept for two hours and spent the rest of the time staring at my perfect baby or staring at my poor, snoring husband crammed on a reclining chair.
The following morning, I didn't even care about the exhaustion. I was determined to get a shower, a coffee from Starbucks, and actual clothes. I didn't let myself down. We also had visitors, and Jimmy ran off to a parent-teacher conference and to pick out the surprise coming home outfit.
So, the lack of sleep part made the desire to be home that much greater. We got to order a delicious celebratory meal and once Luca was cleared by the lab, we were set to go at 9:00 pm that night.
We had the sweetest greeting when we arrived home. Ruby has talked about baking a birthday cake for the baby from about the second she found out there was a baby. They made a strawberry cake with chocolate frosting, and topped it with fresh strawberries, sprinkles, and a 0 candle.
This is the sweetest boy. His long-lashed blue eyes, his milky breath, the way he likes to hold my hand. The snuggliest, handsomest little love.
The way his hair is disheveled after a night of sleeping in a tiny hat.
His itty-bitty stretches and the accompanying wrinkled faces.
The way he keeps his hands beneath his chin to sleep.
The way he still fits perfectly on my chest, so scrunched up still.
His button nose and his perfect little ears.
Oh, my sweet Luca. May you always know how much we absolutely adore you.
The love these two have for him is something I can't describe - they show it in different ways, but they are crazy about him. And they both share my appreciation for good boy fashion.
Life is good. So, so good. I'm sorting through pictures and the birth story in my head. Some day, I will share it. As it turns out, life didn't stop for baby #3 and when things are slow, I'm busy soaking up his tiny baby snuggles while he's still so squishy and sleepy.
It's already hard to imagine a life without him. The most precious boy.
We welcomed our sweet Luca Jack on Thursday, October 23 at 6:07 pm. A day that will be burned into my heart and mind forever. I am beyond thankful and living in a euphoric state of bliss. He is the sweetest, snuggliest baby.
Details coming soon. I'm hunting the best of tiny old man apparel (hellooo, sweater vests!) and feel like I'm in a fun new dimension.
Welcome to my little nook in the land of the www. I'm a wife, a mom, and a lover of many things. I tend to take on spontaneous new endeavors, usually craft-related or things that are bound to chase away my waistline.
Flying by the seat of my pants would be a fitting theme for my life. That or, taking on more than I could handle, eating things that I shouldn't, type a meets OCD. Whatever the theme may be, I love it.
Hillary, n: wife, mama to an angel and two princesses, big fan of accessorizing and fashion, the beach, bubble baths, and brownies; lover of scrapbooking, making cards and knitting, shopping, blogging, music, baking, and Jesus Christ; may or may not have a shopping problem when it comes to purchasing yarn, shoes, and baby clothing; guilty pleasures: photography, junk food in general, and reality television