He's Here!

All 9lbs, 4 oz, 21 inches of him! He's a beautiful baby boy, and we couldn't be more thrilled. Hard to tell what color his eyes will be, although I think I see an undertone of brown! That could very well be wishful thinking though. The funny thing is that on the day he was born, his hair looked very strawberry blonde, but today all the little hairs on his perfect grapefruit shaped head are distinctly brown! We'll just have to see. He's so adorable and velvety soft....I could just kiss his wonderful little head all day. That baby smell is just the best. A little piece of heaven is this boy. He came out looking like a funny, wrinkled up little man, but within a day or two - his little face sort of settled into itself and he's just gorgeous. What a sweetheart....we're completely smitten! Here's a family picture - I feel so lucky to have these wonderful boys - all 4 of them. I'll be sending/emailing out a group of pictures (with pics of the baby!) soon.

Soon We'll be Five......

Still feeling uneasy about the whole thing, but taking comfort in not really having any sort of choice in this matter. He can't just stay where he is, and if I were to go into labor - it's already been determined that my bone structure (funnel shaped pelvic bone - thanks Mom!) is absolutely incapable of "birthin' a baby" without said baby being seriously brain damaged if delivered at all. So. Having no choice is working for me here!

The good news is, I just finished spot cleaning the entire downstairs carpet.

God willing, by this time tomorrow I'll be holding my beautiful new baby and enjoying the pleasant calm of vicodin.

I know that many of my readers aren't religiously inclined - but heck.
Pray for me and little Jack anyway, okay?

Self Preservation

"Well, this is just freakin' perfect."

"What?"

"I just got online to check my email, and I'm hit with this headline on AOL: 'More US Mothers Dying in Childbirth' and.......uh-huh........oh of course. They say that it's due in part to overweight women having c-sections. Great. Well, just FYI - I'd like to be cremated. And don't marry anyone who isn't old enough to vote. Also, her name can't be Misty, Missy, or Crystal. And also you have to wait at least a year to re-marry and don't forget to brush their teeth, and comb their hair before school. I hate it when kids have bedhead at school. And you have to get them braces because it's important. And for godsake, don't EVER leave them with your parents......."

"Oh stop it, you'll be fine. Get off there. I hate that damn computer.....what timing......."

(see...he knows that within 15 minutes, I'll be crying and shaking in a corner.....a mess that he has to clean up.....not his best event)

15 minutes later.

Crying. Scared. Saying things like "If it comes down to it, and it's either me or the baby - SAVE ME. DO YOU HEAR ME???? SAVE ME!!!!
I adore this baby, but honestly - it isn't him that I'm worried about!

Granted - this isn't the year 1812, nor are we on "ER.".

My rational mind (what's left of it) gets that more than likely - I'll be just fine. BUT......my hormonal, emotionally charged, and lets face it: death-related-issue-having self just RUNS with stuff like this.

I hate surgery.....I'm worried about blood clots.....blood loss......I'm just scared.....and I'm pissed off that I had to read that headline....and then.....as human nature dictates.....the whole entire article. Now the joy and excitement have been replaced (at least for tonight) with fear and making deals with God.

Shit.

Dear Baby Jack,

I stood there, test in hand during the early morning hours of Christmas, with a decision to make. I knew that this could very well be a mistake - taking the test on Christmas. Being disappointed - again - on Christmas. But I had a feeling...I just sort of new that you were there......and I wanted to be sure.

"Merry Christmas!" I said to your Daddy, handing him the test stick. As he leaned on the counter, waiting for his coffee to perk, a slow smile spread across his face as he considered the two faint, but definitely there pink lines....and a Merry Christmas it was.

As I write this, eight months have gone by. Summer is slowly moving out, and Fall is quickly approaching.

As the months have gone by, we've been waiting and preparing for your arrival. We've decorated a room just for you, picked out adorable little things - designed to make you comfortable and to enhance your inevitable cuteness, and listened as your name has fluttered about in conversation like a little butterfly.....happy and excitable. "When baby Jack gets here, I'm going to hold him and kiss him!" says your oldest brother. "When baby Jack comes, I'm going to hug him and make him laugh!" says your little-older brother.

Here we are, just a few days from the "Big Day!" that we've been waiting for. Every morning, your oldest brother asks "NOW how many more sleeps, Mommy? How many more sleeps until baby Jack is here?" We all love you so much. Already, we love you so much.

I'm trying to hold onto the memory of your wiggles, your nudges, your kicks....I love them. I think there's a good chance that you're going to complete our family, and I probably won't be housing anymore little babies in my tummy. It's bittersweet....I can't wait to hold you in my arms, and share you with your Daddy and your brothers.... but also I love having you inside. So safe and so only mine.....so I'm trying to remember this time we've had together. Just you and me - your "good morning" roll-arounds, and afternoon tumbles.

Your Daddy has been extra good about making sure that you have everything you need - even before your big arrival. He has taken me out for cheese enchiladas, many more times than necessary because he knows that they're our favorite! He has assembled all of your baby gear without complaint, installed your car seat - making sure that it's perfectly level, and stood back to get a good look at your nursery - making sure that all the little pictures in your room are hung just so.

Your oldest brother passes me in the hall, and sets down his armload of engines long enough to give you a smile, a "pat pat pat", and some commentary on how big you're getting - all on his way to the train station he has created in his race car bedroom.

Late at night when you're little-older brother is sleepy and listening to stories, he lays his head down next to your feet and interrupts even the best of Curious George adventures to peer into my belly button, listen hopefully, and rub my tummy - just wanting to know all that he can about his little brother - this little mystery.

Now, as the last onesies are folded and put into the third-time-around baby dresser, the bottles are washed and lined up on their own shelf in the cabinet, and the diapers are stacked, I feel so lucky to have you - my littlest son. My little caboose. My little bundle of baby. I can't wait to meet you! I'll be the one who is crying (tears of joy of course) right along with you.

xox
Love,
Mommy

Five Years

Two sappy, carefully picked, Hallmark cards - complete with hand written sentiment : $8

A lovely dinner for two, over looking the Pacific on a warm summer evening : $92

Making a VERY pregnant woman feel beautiful and loved by giving her .50 carat platinum set diamond earrings : PRICELESS

Tweet Tweet, Buzz Buzz

Big Boy:
"So Mommy.....how did baby Jack get in there anyway?"
(with his hand on my tummy)

Me:
"Well......
When a Mommy and a Daddy love each other very much, they might decide to make a family...."
(inner monologue: oh shit oh shit oh shit) "and.....uh.....Mommies have special eggs inside their bodies.....and when the Daddy adds his....um.....well......(hell), it's called "sperm"....to the Mommy's egg......a baby is made in the Mommy's tummy!" (inner monologue: ok, not bad.....with any luck, he won't ask.....at least not today.....about how the sperm gets there).

Big Boy:
Takes a moment to think.....blink his eyes a few times......
"Well, how old do I have to be before I can make some eggs?"
Little Boy:
"Hey! I want some eggs too!"
Big Boy:
"You can't do anything with eggs because you're only three years old!"
Little Boy:
"Yes I can! Mommy! BB said I can't have any eggs!"

Me:
My work here is done.

Little Boy Soup

I could have included these pictures in the last post, but I hate adding pictures after writing. To save myself the frustration - I figured I'd just do a picture post here.

Last night as Big Al was supervising bath time and I was scrapping (heaven) I heard:

"Hey Honey, come and see this - and bring your camera"

Funny boys. The big one has clearly outgrown bathing with his brother (size wise) but hates showers......so we've got some dirty days ahead.

Headaches, Chocolate and School Clothes.

So this morning I had a headache so fierce, so pounding, so awful - that I cried my eyes out and scared my family out of the house for two full hours.

Note to self - that worked out pretty well, all things considered.

Big Al took the boys and their bikes to the park, telling me to turn off the phone and lay down on their way out the door. Ay-ay Captain. I woke up an hour later feeling better, thank goodness. Ugh. I for one, don't know why Tylenol is even on the market since it works about as well as say strapping a banana peel onto my forehead. I had a moment of being irritated at my little Jack....it was his fault that I couldn't take 3 advil which would have fixed me right up.

This is the final stretch. "Stretch......" Yeah. No kidding.

My Mom has saved me this weekend by taking the boys for about 4 hours of both days. Hallelujah. Big Al has one more week of work and then will be off for 3 glorious sort-of-helpful weeks. I say "sort-of" because as great as he's been about helping me, I still have to be very specific. He doesn't see the pile of breakfast dishes in the sink unless I point them out and ask him....ever so sweetly.....to put them in the dishwasher for me. He will step over the gigantic pile of dirty laundry that the boys have left in the hallway....not thinking...."Hey, it's easier for me to bend over and pick these up and deposit them into the laundry room than it is for her at this point. I've got this covered." No....I have to ask for help....and mostly that's okay I guess. I've learned that with most men you have to ask for what you want or else you'll just live a very bitter existence with them! They are absolutely incapable of reading between the lines and reading our minds. The sooner we figure this out and be truly okay with putting it all out there and asking for what we need, the better. Anyway, here's another example of his sweetness/cluelessness: I got up this morning with Little Boy around 7:30am to find Big Boy dressed. Sort of strange since the boys usually eat breakfast around 8am - still in their jammies. Big Al had taken him to Starbucks for hot chocolate while LB and I were sleeping. My early risers often do this on the weekend. So what's the problem, you may ask? The problem is that BB was wearing school clothes. NEW school clothes. Like....tags had to be removed in order for him to wear them.......school clothes.

SIGH.

Really? As you were pulling the tags off of the clothes....clothes that came from a drawer full of other clothes, also bearing tags.....it didn't cross your mind that maybe....just maybe......something was off about what you were doing? Luckily, no one died as a result of this horrible mistake - since by some miracle, he didn't get chocolate on this new shirt....and therefore...I didn't have to kill anyone.

2nd Note to self: Put little star stickers on each dresser drawer that Big Al and Grandma can choose from while I'm in the hospital so that I don't come home to a total and complete nightmare.

Yes, I know that I'm a control freak and maybe a tad OCD....but really....you should see their dresser drawers. I should let go of the perfectness that is their folded clothes....you know...so that they can get their own clothes out instead of my picking them out and throwing them on the bed for them to put on. The truth is they show NO INTEREST in picking out their own clothes! It's AWESOME! When I ordered them a couple of Boden shirts a few weeks ago, I let BB come over and point out which ones he liked best....but as far as daily outfit picking, he doesn't care.

Now shoes......shoes are another matter.
He has a TON of feeling and opinion on shoes.
I don't know where he gets it.

No big surprise -

He's measuring 8 lbs. already!

I....sadly...have hit the 20 lb. weight gain mark. But come on, I'm most likely going to have a 9 + lb. baby....so......still not too bad.....I guess.

Misc.

This is going to be a hodge podge of topics. I didn't take any pictures this weekend, and we didn't really do anything eventful - unless you count school clothes/shoes shopping while waiting for the oil to be changed in the minivan. I decided to sit down and post - something - anyway. Even if it turns out to be...well.....mind vomit!

Baby/Pregnancy.
We're excited for the baby's arrival - I think I may have mentioned this once or twice already? However, something that disturbs me greatly (and I *know* I've said this many times but I just can't get over the injustice of it all) is the fact that I can't get any decent sleep to save my life right now. It's just.so.wrong. I should be getting the MOST FULFILLING SLEEP EVER considering what's around the corner for me......a newborn and all of his around the clock, newborn needs.
Not only do I find myself waking up constantly, but I wake up in pain. My back. Whatever thigh I'm laying on. The bladder that feels like it's going to bust wide open because of that *tablespoon* of urine that's in there. When I wake up, I have a choice. Sometimes I lug myself out of bed and head down the stairs to the bathroom (yes...charming quality about my home....ONLY ONE BATHROOM that is located DOWNSTAIRS). Other times, I just turn over to the other side....only to wake up an hour or two later with the same aching thigh, back, side, etc.

It's the little things that are getting harder and harder to do. Making dinner. Doing laundry. Visiting that 7th circle of hell that I like to call "the park" with the boys. Grocery shopping.

Small price to pay to get this little baby though! Definitely a small price to pay. I can't wait to kiss those tiny, perfect little hands.

*****************

Potty training update.
LB still won't poop in the potty. Safe to say that the baby's arrival isn't going to help this situation. I just don't know how he's going to react to having a baby around. He talks about him all the time. Maybe he won't get all pissed off, territorial, and regress after all. He lifts up my shirt to kiss baby Jack and tell him that he loves him at least once a day.

***************

Shoes.
We bought the boys their summer sandals in March. BB was a size 1 when we bought the sandals. We had him measured again yesterday before buying his new shoes for school and he's now a 2.5. WOW! Poor kid. No wonder he wakes up with leg/growing pains! His feet have grown a size and a half in 6 months! LB on the other hand was a size 11 in March and is now an 11.5. That seems like a pretty normal growth pattern.

*******************

Defensive in Advance.
Now lets talk about my least favorite subject/debate. Breast V. Bottle. The long and short of it is that I TRIED. TWICE. I DID EVERYTHING. I CAN'T DO IT. If a teaspoon of breast milk every two hours was enough to feed my babies - I'd have it made. Unfortunately, it's not....and on my best day I'd only get an ounce when I tried in the past. This being my third time around, you'd think it wouldn't bother me....I guess it feels different this time because I've decided not to try this time. I mean....why put myself through it? Why spend the money on the hospital pump, teas, vitamins, feeding tube kits, etc. when I know what the end result will be? It seems as though we're inundated with BREAST IS BEST. FORMULA IS HORRIBLE. It's hard for me to buy into the "fact" that bottle fed kids aren't as healthy as breastfed kids since neither of mine have EVER had an ear infection. BB has NEVER been on antibiotics, and LB has only had to take them once during flu season when he had bronchitis or something like it. Yeah, they've had croup a couple of times but overall - totally healthy kids. I wish I could BF if only to save the BUCKETS of money that we spend on formula! I don't know...I live in an ULTRA-CRUNCHY town and I'm sort of anticipating the judgemental looks I'm going to get every time I whip out a bottle rather than a boob. My first battle will be at the hospital when those hideous La Leche Lactivists come by to "visit." A big bonus to not having a c-section is that you can have your baby and then get the hell out of there. When you have a C, you're held hostage for a few days and anyone who wants to come into your room and harass you and/or try to touch your boobs (to "assist" with the latch) can. Obviously, I'll just tell them what we've decided....and hopefully they won't hassle me about it too much. I'll try to nurse the first day or two just for the little bits of colostrum that I'm usually able to provide....but once he looks hungry....usually day two.....I'm going to give him a bottle. I didn't do that with BB. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, I just kept trying to get him to nurse. He tried...it wasn't him, it was me. Little did I know - I didn't have enough milk for him. His jaundice was terrible. He had to stay an extra day under the lights, get blood tests, etc. and then he had lost way too much weight by the time his first appointment came along. I was heartbroken and felt like such an idiot /failure that I hadn't noticed. I tried again with LB, but cautiously. I supplemented with formula while trying to "pump" up my supply...which of course never came. But this time, the jaundice was under control and my baby wasn't hungry.

My next appointment is on Tuesday, and I'm getting another ultrasound. Always fun!

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all"

I'm 35 weeks along and feel like death warmed over - but here are some cute pictures! Better to post just pictures than not post at all, right? In case anyone is concerned about BB running into trees or other large objects - I did get his "bangs" trimmed the day after this picture was taken! I didn't want to, but he was begging....so I did it. I love his gorgeous hippie hair.