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I’ve started getting emails from Halloween stores, and I must say this year is going to be a little bittersweet. Obviously, Halloween will never be the same from now on with Gabriel in the picture, and I guess that’s not a bad thing. This time last year I was already pondering costumes and buying supplies. Now I’m just trying to figure out when I need to do laundry so that the little one has enough diapers to wear. I will miss the salad days of our annual Halloween party. Not that I’m giving up on it entirely, but this year is pretty much out of the question. I can barely take a shower let alone plan a party.

I imagine future Halloween parties with activities for the kids, but also with fun stuff to entertain moms and dads. This year seems to be the baby-boom among our circle of friends, so why not involve the little ones? Besides, I have to make use of all those awesome decorations I’ve collected over the years. What a shame to let them go to waste. I hope to dig up at least a couple of things to put out this year — not that anyone will see them but me. I guess there’s no time like the present to start thinking about creating an outdoor haunt to wow the trick-or-treaters.

Mike and I like to talk about what we’re going to do with Gabe when he’s old enough. I see pirates, super-heroes and monsters — oh my! I look forward to helping him make his costumes and taking him trick-or-treating. No junky store-bought costumes in this house. Half the fun of Halloween for me as a kid (and as an adult) was making the costume. I only hope he shares the same love for the day as we do! I don’t know if I’ll have the energy/time to make a costume for him this year, but I couldn’t resist this adorable little Halloween onesie when I was in the baby store. Awww!

Gotta love the skull pirate.

I’ve been trying for the past two weeks to get this finished and I think it’s finally done. I figure I should commit the story to writing so that the finer details don’t get blurred over time or lost in the memory banks. Sorry in advance if this is way more detail than you ever cared to know about my birth experience. If so, feel free to skip out on this; I won’t be offended. The way I see it, I’m writing this for my benefit as much as yours. :)

The day of Saturday the 17th started out pretty much the same as any other day in my late pregnancy… except that mid-day I started feeling kinda crampy. Nothing serious — no contractions, just crampy — so I thought nothing of it. We went about our business as usual. The evening heat wasn’t oppressively hot, so we took a waddle around the block and went out to dinner for Indian food.

Mike started playing a video game, and I begrudgingly sat down to watch for a little bit. About 10:30, I got up to put a pillow under my butt because the floor was hard (I had been practicing my Taylor Sitting), and I felt a funny sensation: a kind of popping. “I think my water just broke.” I ran upstairs to the bathroom to check, but there wasn’t a great flood of water like you see in movies or hear from other women, so it surprised me that all I saw was a little bit of blood. So we waited.

Soon thereafter, the contractions began. We called Kim, our doula, to let her know that this could be it. Unfortunately, she was an hour away from town, and would be here as soon as possible. I’m only guessing here, but it was probably around 11pm at this point. I’m going to mention now that any references to time are probably only marginally accurate, considering I wasn’t really thinking about what time it was. I was in my own little world of BREATHE, RELAX, OW… Anyhoo, it took about an hour for my contractions to become painfully strong. While trying to labor in bed, I attempted various different positions that might make me more comfortable, but to no avail. Mike did everything he knew from our classes that might help — bless his soul — but my discomfort was pretty much all-encompassing. Kim called telling us she was close, and when Mike told her how inconsolable I was, she instructed us to draw up the bath. Getting in a warm tub seemed to help only temporarily, as my contractions were soon right on top of each other. With my giant body submerged in the warm water and my sweaty face pressed up against the side of the tub I thought to myself, “This is why most women get epidurals!”

Shortly after Kim arrived, (probably a little after 12) I got the sensation that I should push… It felt like I had to pass the mother of all BMs. Sorry, TMI. Mike hastily packed up the car and we were on our way to the hospital. (approx 1am)

While the drive to the hospital is normally pretty quick, it still felt like the longest drive ever! I had at least 4 contractions on the way. Arriving at the hospital they asked me if I wanted to walk, but there was NO WAY — so they wheeled me in a chair while Mike parked the car. Arriving in triage, they tried to get me gowned up in the bathroom, but the urge to push came on even stronger once I was standing. “I need to push!” I said urgently. They laid me out to check me and confirmed that, indeed, I needed to push. Off to labor and delivery I went — without the stupid gown.

With the urge to push my contractions were much less painful, which was a welcome change from the agony of transition. But it was late and I was tired, so I spent the pushing stage on my side. It took a few contractions for me to really get the hang of effective pushing, but it wasn’t long and Gabriel came shooting out at 3:54. Unfortunately, he blew out my lady parts a bit. Sorry TMI, again! But at that point, he was on my chest and none of that really mattered. Also, he pooped all over me… but I didn’t care. We did it! We had the natural birth we really wanted. All in under 6 hours total!

We soon realized, however that Gabe’s little lungs were still full of fluid… and the deep suction didn’t really help. They told me that it’s fairly common with fast labors because the baby isn’t squeezed in the birth canal long enough. Regardless of the cause, he wasn’t taking in enough oxygen and would have to spend some time in the “special care” unit. Giving him up was the hardest part. Plus, because I was GBS positive and only had one dose of antibiotics in LDR, they wanted to give him extra antibiotics. He didn’t get to room in with us for the first 24 hours, and he was hooked up to IV and under an O2 hood (that we affectionately called “the cone of silence”) for a portion of that time. After a few hours I was allowed to come and breast feed. Luckily, we had no troubles. The little guy latched on like a champ! Once they were confident he was breathing well enough on his own, they let him stay with us for extended periods of time.

The first picture of Gabe that I tweeted from the Hosipital

I’ve gotta say that those first few hours alone in our room were good for catching up on lost sleep, but the distance between us and our baby seemed like a million miles. Plus going to breakfast without his little bassinet in tow was completely depressing. Still, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. And we were able to be released on time: Tuesday the 20th in the late afternoon. So there you have it: Gabe’s birth story in a nutshell.

A precious quiet moment at the hospital.

Today Gabe is three weeks old, and he’s already surpassed his birth weight by 2 pounds. No one ever told us how hard taking care of a newborn really is. It’s definitely not sunshine and lollipops. But there are some glimmers of fun: when he smiles in his sleep, snuggling, watching him check out his surroundings, pretty much whenever he’s not screaming — though these moments are few and far between so far. However, no matter how much he cries or seems inconsolable right now, I’ve gotta remember that this too shall pass and we’ll be on to some other obstacle like shoving buttons up his nose or borrowing the car.

Snuggling with Daddy on the couch

We’re home from the hospital after a very crazy weekend! Holy crap, what an experience. More on that some other time.

Mike is holding Gabe right now, so I’ve only got a few minutes to myself before I grab a much-needed nap. Short and sweet: some pictures of our new addition.

Today marks 39 weeks of pregnancy… So obviously, the whole 3cm & 80% effacement last week didn’t spell imminent labor. However, the second I sat down to write this, I had a contraction — but I’ve been getting one or two of them a day for the past few days. Yesterday’s doctor’s appointment didn’t really tell me anything new since I declined the optional internal exam to spare myself the discomfort, and my doc didn’t press the issue. He said that if I haven’t had the baby by next week, we’ll do another one. That seems fair.

Mike hates this shirt, but it's sooo comfy.

Also, my co-workers took me out to lunch today and gave me a very generous gift certificate. I swear, some of those ladies are more excited about this than I am. I’m looking at you, Darcy and Jenn.

Ignore the drip of toothpaste on the mirror.

There’s really nothing else interesting to report. I just can’t wait to meet our little guy face to face. And the waiting… oh the waiting is killing me!

Please allow me this time to engage in some self-indulgent blather. After months of wearing nothing but elastic-waist pants, tent tops and generally unflattering garb, I have had it. And let’s not forget the fact that I have been unable to put on normal shoes for the past three weeks — damn this sweltering sauna-like weather! My poor sausage toes can’t tolerate anything much more than cheap flip-flops. Plus, it’s been MONTHS since I stepped into a pair of heels. My shoe collection became largely neglected around month 3 of this pregnancy. A this point, I want nothing more than to put on some cute strappy sandals and a sun dress. Alas, a maternity top (that doesn’t actually cover my belly) and sweat shorts are today’s outfit.

I do realize that once the Sprout is born I won’t be able to jump back into all my old clothes right away, but my limited selection will expand just a little bit — and that makes me happy. Also, I fear that my mile-high work shoes have worn out their usefulness, and I’ll be either giving them away to friends or taking them to the Goodwill. I weep for them. But in time I will replace them with slightly more sensible counterparts. Like these adorable little numbers from plasticland.com. *SIGH*

Ever since I knew I was pregnant, I’ve had this tiny seed of an inkling that the baby would be born before his due date. Perhaps it was my keen psychic powers at work, because today my doctor confirmed that I am already 3cm dilated and about 80% effaced. He was actually pretty surprised. Before I freak out and run to the hospital, that doesn’t exactly mean that I’m going to go into labor any minute or even any day — in fact, it could be weeks! However, given that I’m 2 weeks out from the Sprout’s due date, there’s pretty good reason to believe he might be at least little early. Plus, the doc said I’ll most likely go into labor on my own, so I shouldn’t have to worry about induction (which I’m totally jazzed about)! However, I’m really bad at patience, but wait I must. I just need to do all those last-minute things so that I’m not caught unprepared. There’s still a small shopping list of stuff to buy off the registry!

Woohoo! Today is the first day of my 37th week. Which means that today the Sprout is officially full term. Now we just have to wait till he’s ready. I am very impatient, but obviously, I have no choice in the matter. :)

Perhaps horizontal stripes were a poor choice.

Plus, I am so freakin’ sick of maternity clothes! I squeezed into this non-preggo shirt this morning, and figured I was good to go. On second thought, it might be a little too tight, but I could really care less at this point. My co-workers said I looked cute, but they might have just said it to be nice.

He's getting big in there!

I check out my belly in the mirror every night and this weekend I think he dropped a little. I’m certainly noticing a lot more low movement — perhaps a little elbow or fist jabbing me on the inside of the hip bone. Let me tell you… It feels SO WEIRD! He did it while Mike and I were watching a movie the other night. It happened so fast and without warning that it startled me off the couch.

This may come as a shock to you, but I have almost no concept of how to care for a newborn. Everyone keeps saying, “Just feed him and change him; you’ll be fine!” I mean, I’ve been reading the Baby Book, trying to cram for the trial-by-fire final exam. No amount of cheating is going to help and there’s no bonus extra-credit. I’ve done my share of babysitting, but never a tiny newborn. Rough and tumble toddlers are more my style. It’s not going to be pretty!

I thought I’d share with you the “final” photographs of the Sprout’s room. It’s been in a state of 90% completion for the past few weeks, but I had a few DIY decor projects I wanted to complete before I made the big reveal. :) At this stage in the pregnancy game, we pretty much have what we’re absolutely going to need to take care of the little guy. Everything else is gravy.

Check out that fan! Mike did such a great job.

Any tips on hiding that cord from the star lamp? It bugs me.

Lamp from Lamps Plus, and the hippo I had hanging around.

The toys are keeping the crib warm till the Sprout arrives.

So here are the projects I recently completed. I’ve been seeing a lot of silhouette portraits hanging around Etsy lately, and I thought it would be a really cool idea to make some silhouettes of Mike and me to put in the baby’s room. Then, after he’s born I can add him to the trio in the middle. Cute no? I just never realized my profile looked like that. LOL!

All I have to say is: thank God for a laser level!

Remember the mobile I posted about a while back. I really loved it, but I didn’t love the price tag. I couldn’t see spending 40 bucks plus shipping when I was pretty sure I could make it myself. I bought some steel wire from Lowes and some white, black and gray scrapbooking paper and made it all for under 10 bucks. I do realize that I’ve pretty much knocked off the original, but it’s not identical and I don’t plan on making any money from it, so there!

My $7.00 elephant mobile!

Without breaking out the receipts, I’m pretty sure the entire nursery cost was well under $1,000 — considering that the IKEA rocker and craigslist crib & changing table were gifts from my parents. My biggest splurge was the FLOR area rug at around $400, but I definitely think it was worth it. The rest of the furniture we already had.

As the space in my uterus becomes smaller and smaller, my tiny tenant seems to be getting more and more rambunctious.  To me, it’s a visual reminder that life as I currently know it will be forever changed in just a few short weeks. While his vigor makes me giggle, it’s definitely a sobering feeling. The more he moves, the more I realize that some day soon, he will have to come out! … and then the real fun begins!

Last night, as the Sprout began his evening calisthenics, Mike finally got to see first-hand the extent of the baby’s movement. He’s seen and felt kicks before, but this was a totally new experience for him. The belly wiggled, rolled and jolted for what seemed like several minutes. When I looked up at Mike, his eyes were saucers and his mouth gaped — clearly, the sight had him awestruck. I don’t think he was fully prepared for what he’d see when I said, “Hey, the baby’s moving, check it out.” He’s so used to being disappointed by a lack of action. I can’t help it if the kid usually stops moving at the precise moment I tell him to look. He was so impressed that he coined the spectacle the “Belly Show”.

With 6 weeks left till the Spout’s due date, I’m trying to get mentally prepared for the event and subsequent Mommyhood. It still makes my brain reel. Aaah! I’m definitely looking forward to it with cautious excitement. I can’t wait to meet this little alien that likes to poke me in the bladder and makes me giggle when he recoils from my prodding hands on the belly. Is he ticklish? Anyhoo. Somehow, I don’t think this week’s pictures look much different than two weeks ago, but maybe it’s the shirt — ’cause I definitely feel bigger.

Yeah, I still refuse to wear maternity clothes sometimes.

Oh yes, the waddling has begun. :)

In related news, the gifts from our two baby showers (one in NJ, one in Rochester) have left us with 30 pairs of 0-3 month infant socks. Some of those I have returned but that’s still a lot of socks! If anyone was still intending to buy us a gift, please heed this message: We have plenty of infant socks, thanks!