Life with Two

I knew things would be different, but it's a different "different" that I was expecting. I think. Who knows...it's been a while since I've slept. At any rate, I think I like it. Maybe even a lot. Which, to be honest, I suspect, since I live in mortal fear of the postpartum depression that wrecked me the first time around. I'm tired, sure. Despite my urging, Emma cluster feeds at night. It's like she doesn't even care about what I want. So selfish. Nevertheless, she feeds like a champ (I believe it was about this time with Ben that I was ready to throw in the towel because the legitimate obstacles seemed insurmountable), and has since our first try. What do I want, perfection? (Yes. I mean no. That would be unreasonable.) Once I feed her and put her back down I am asleep within moments. With Ben I couldn't sleep at all. Ever. During the day, as well, we've easily and effortlessly fallen into a routine. Despite the sleep deprivation, I excitedly play with Ben. It's been a while since I've been able to sit on the floor with him much less crawl around pushing dump trucks and becoming a human slide. There are moments when I can't imagine my life could ever feel so full.

I do have a limit, though. I mean, who did you think I was, Wonderwoman? (Yes. I mean, no. That would be a bit hyperbolic.) While Ben is completely enamored with his sister and wants to do nothing all day but kiss her and smother her, he seems to have no control over his body, which makes me more than a little nervous that he will crush her. He's not all kisses and sunshine, though. He's thrown more tantrums over more ridiculously lame things in the last two days than in the last two years combined. Also, while he apparently had not one potty accident the entire time we were gone, his success:failure ratio has taken a serious turn in the wrong direction since we've all come home.

Last night while cuddling him before bed, I cried for the first time since giving birth. I sat there rocking with my little boy, who seems to have turned 16 during the three days we were apart, and just melted. Since we've all come home I see him differently, feel differently about him...and I didn't expect that. It's not a bad different...it's just...different. It's like overnight he's a different kid and I'm a different mom. And that all hit me with the weight of three tons of bricks when he sweetly asked if he could play with my hair while we prayed. So the tears fell as I realized that really and truly, things are different forever. And for the most part, that's a really good thing. But there's a little piece of me that's sad, that already misses the special bond that Ben and I have always shared. And I know we will always have it. I will never ever love him less. But he will never again be my one and only. I love my new life with two kids. But for just a moment I grieved a little for the loss of my life with just one. So I cried just a little. And Ben looked up at me and said, "Mommy, are you sad?" I said, "No baby. I'm crying because so happy because I love you so much." He replied, "I can make you feel better." Then he gave me a kiss and smiled so brightly and tenderly that I knew in that moment that while things will never be exactly as they were, they will be their very own version of perfect. A new kind of perfect. Because now I have two to love, differently and deeply.

Every night before I go to bed I go into Ben's room and close his window. Sometimes he stirs, sometimes he doesn't. I assume he sleeps through it because he never opens his eyes or acknowledges my presence. Last night I closed his window then bent over him, kissed him, and whispered, "I love you." Without opening his eyes, he quietly whispered, "I love you too."

My heart might explode.

When Brother Met Sister

Ben Meets Emma from Matt Miller on Vimeo.

Happy Birth Day, Dear Emma

I would like to spare you the gory TMI details of Emma's dramatic entrance into the world. Many people are asking for the story, however, so I will try to compromise. If you are uncomfortable with words like dilate and contraction and centimeter, this may not be the post for you. In fact, it may not be the blog for you. So guys, feel free to divert your attention here.

So as for the contractions, they'd been hanging around for three and a half weeks. As of last Friday at my appointment I was dilated to 4cm. On Tuesday the contractions picked up the pace and intensity and became fairly regular. After a few hours (I wanted to make sure they stuck around--we've had false starts before) I called and they told me to come in. So we loaded up and headed to the hospital around 2:00, dropping Ben off at our friends' on the way.

Things were pretty busy in the baby area, so we had to hang out in the waiting room for a while and wait for a room. Pretty much this was the best part ever. For a couple of reasons. A) The E! True Hollywood Story on The Kids of Dawson's Creek; B) Easily the most awkward moment you can have in a labor and delivery waiting room. At this particular hospital, when you check in you go into a small waiting room and pick up a phone on the wall, which calls the desk inside the ward and they come and get you. While Matt and I were watching Everyone Hates Chris (sadly, we only caught the last half of THS), a man and his laboring wife came in. She seemed to be in the middle of a contraction, and, sadly for her, she was not keeping her spirits up quite like I was. Maybe she isn't a big fan of Chris Rock. Or maybe because she is married to a tool. Because as she sat down, her stud of a husband picked up the phone and said, "I'm here with my wife, Karen M---." Then the laboring wife said, "Bridgette." Then he said, "Oops...I mean Bridgette M---." Then he turned to a very uncomfortable Matt and I and said, "Oops. Karen's my ex-wife." Then Bridgette said, "He did that last time, too."

O.M.G.

They went inside and got checked in, then had to come back out and wait with us. And I thought contractions were painful. Sheesh.

Of course contractions are painful. Which is why I was bummed that I continued to have them every three to five minutes for another seven hours and only dilate to 5cm. That's 1cm. In seven hours. They kept offering me an epidural, and I kept telling them I was tough so back off.

At 9:30pm, after a thousand contractions, two walks around the hospital, and 1cm, they admitted me and said they'd go ahead and help speed the process. At 1:30am they put me on pitocin. I continued to refuse the epidural. By 7:45am I had dilated a half a centimeter. I told my nurse I held her personally responsible. I began to think that I was going to have to reach in there and pull out my baby myself. But I didn't. At 8:00am, they broke my water instead.

That's when Mt. Doom opened up and I was swallowed by the fires of Mordor.

The contractions came every minute or two and were so intense and painful I seriously thought I was going to die (or kill someone). I begged for the epidural. They said I had to go through 20 minutes on an IV and the anesthesiologist would come. I said I couldn't. My mom and Matt said I could. But I didn't have to. Because 10 minutes into the bag I could feel Emma's head between my legs.

This is where things get crazy and fuzzy. I will sum up for you: In 45 minutes I went from 5cm to 10. Then I had to hold her in for 10 minutes while nurses frantically scrambled to get the midwife and whatever other crap was necessary to not have a baby on the floor. After 5-10 minutes of pushing, at 9:16am, my beautiful and totally worth it baby girl was here, on my chest, making me fall completely in love and forgiving her for giving me a tour of Hades. We cuddled while I got stitched up, and the rest of the day and night somehow went by. My mom brought Ben after lunch, and after the longest/quickest delivery ever, it was easily the most emotional and incredible time for me. Matt took a video, which is stubbornly refusing to upload, that makes me sob like a little girl every time I watch it.

So that's our story. We're home now with our little princess while Ben gets spoiled by his grandparents. He will come home this afternoon, which I can't wait for because I miss him like crazy. We're tired, I'm sore, but dang-it if we don't have the best finishing medal ever. She's healthy, doing great, and is so far presenting none of the high-maintenance issues her brother did. I'm doing well, Matt is incredible, and I can't wait for Ben to come home so we can start our new life. Also so he can maybe start doing chores.

You probably want some pictures.

Two Peas in a Pod

Baby A

Baby B

Let's play a game...Which is Ben and which is Emma?

Of course Ben is A and Emma is B. But if there is a fire and we lose either's baby pictures, we're good to go with backups. The best part? They look even better together.

She's Here!

Miss Emma Renee

July 27, 2011

9:16am

7 lbs 8 oz

19.5 in

Gorgeous as all get-out

More details later when I'm at home and wearing real underwear.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Another Friday, another morning with the midwife, another "I can't believe you're still here."

The bad news: I'm now dilated to 4. For those keeping score, that's 1cm a week. For the record, when my midwife told me, I completely broke down sobbing. Because I'm a grown-up.

The good news: Enough is enough. If Emma doesn't pick up the pace, I'll be induced on August 2.

The okay news: That's still a week and a half away.

The plan: My midwife's recommendations are to ignore the contractions until I can't ignore them anymore, keep my bag packed and in the car, and live my life. As long as I stay in Southern California, I will be a reasonable distance from a Kaiser hospital and can/should do whatever my little heart desires and my body permits. I am going to desperately try to do this. In my head, I'm adjusting my due date for the third time. I'm going to try to live and think like she will not come sooner, and that she will be born on August 2. Because to maintain hope otherwise would land me in a different kind of hospital in no time.

So in the meantime, I'm living my life. Cleaning my house, doing laundry, running errands, and, most importantly, spending time with my family of three. So far this week, I have gone to the fair, the beach, and the outdoor mall with the fountain. We painted and finished swimming lessons (side note: on the last day of class B jumped off the diving board!). And this weekend B is spending the night with his grandparents while Matt and I get some rest and take a break.

The finish line is in sight.

 

So it Begins

As I'm filling up the Brita in the fridge...


Ben: What are you doing?
Me: Filling up the water.
B: Why?
Me: So we can have cold water to drink.
B: Why?
Me: Because we need water.
B: Why?
Me: Because our bodies need it to work right.
B: Why?
Me: Because our bodies are composed of roughly 70% water.
B: Why?
Me: Because God made us that way.
B: Why?
Me: Because he loves us.
B: Oh. I love trains.


We have officially entered the Why Phase.