Halloween

For Halloween this year, Larkin was an Aggie football player. His grandpa was very proud!



We went to the church Trunk or Treat, and everyone enjoyed getting to peek in the stroller and check out how cute he looked! Afterward, we went over to Chris and Marki's house to take a photo with Larkin and Landen all decked out (Menley decided she was too grown up to trick or treat this year).



At the end of the night, we went home and put on the little Halloween onesie his 'Auntie' Amy bought him, and he crashed out on Mommy.





I was hoping to have a more elaborate costume, but he was just too little for most, and I didn't think to order one early enough to have it custom made. But next year, we'll come up with something super fun. Maybe we'll even dress up the whole family! But no matter. Larkin had fun, and looked cute as-is.

One Month Old

Sweet little man,

I am astounded that just one month ago, you weren’t even in our lives yet. I am amazed at how different the universe is now that you are in it. At just one month old, you are a bundle of fun and personality. You already have the sweetest little smirky grin that I just can’t get enough of.



Your favorite activities include sleeping on mama’s chest, bath time, and eating. It took us a little time to get the hang of nursing, but now you’re a champ! At first we had some concern because you kept losing weight. At your two week check up, you were down to 7 lbs, and had me very worried. Then, over the next week, you put on nearly two pounds, and we were in the clear! You’re still a lazy eater, so by the time you finish and I set the alarm for your next feeding, I usually have less than an hour to rest.

But oh my! How precious you are when you're sleeping!

Baby mine, I have so much I want to remember. Like the way you tuck your little legs in when you lay on my chest. Your daddy calls that your frog legs. The way the top of your head smells when I hold you close. The way you and daddy look all snuggled together on the couch. How I’m constantly amazed at how tiny your feet are – and how huge they are – all at once!



And those feet are never still. Oh, how I laugh when I see you make those kicks and head butts and think “THAT’S what you were doing in there!” My ribs still remember all those moves!

I want to drink you in, and record every second. Yet I never want to step away from the moment long enough to take a picture or write a memory. So just know that for every photo and every word, there are a million more missing. Missing because I chose to spend the moment living rather than recording. So perhaps I’ll forget some things, but hopefully I’ll never look back and realize I remember everything, but I missed too much.

Sigh. I realize I’m not making much sense, but you’ll have to excuse me. I’m a little sleep deprived!

I still look at you, and can’t believe you're mine. I can’t believe your daddy and I created something so absolutely beautiful. You are a miracle. You are a wonder. You are a joy.

And I just can't get enough!

To the moon… and back,

Mommy

First Bath

Early on in my pregnancy, I longed to feel those first tiny movement of my baby. Well, Larkin never really gave me those. I went from waiting (im)patiently, to getting full-on internal beatings pretty quick! The coolest part was during my bath time. I've always been a bath person, loving to lounge in the tub for as long as possible. It quickly became apparent that Larkin enjoyed bath time as well!

One night, shortly after I had started feeling those baby kicks, I got in the tub. Almost immediately, Larkin began kicking like mad. Suddenly, the water in the very full tub was splashing over onto the floor. It took a minute to register with me that the baby's kicks were actually causing the tidal waves!

After that, every bath time was a time of mutual enjoyment between myself and baby. I'd just lay and float and dream, and he'd send shock waves through the water to let me know he was there, and safe and happy.

Last night, Larkin got his first bath at home. Although the nurses reported that he was utterly unimpressed with his baths in the hospital, he seemed to enjoy his little rinse down here. Daddy had to do the duty, because I was pretty nervous about handling such a tiny, slippery bundle!









I'm looking forward to REAL baths, but it was fun. Plus, is there anything better than the scent of a baby after a bath? After bath time, I gave Larkin a little baby massage, snuggled him up in his nightie, we read a book and said our prayers, then he fell fast asleep in his swing.

Coming Home!

After five days in the hospital, we finally got to bring Larkin home! Our stay was extended because we were struggling with my pain management following the c-section (I didn't respond well to the initial medication they gave me) and because Larkin had some jaundice.

Just a LITTLE bit yellow

I delivered at The Woman's Hospital of Texas, and the staff there was mostly fabulous. The nurses were wonderful, and attempted to be as un-intrusiveness as it is possible to be when someone is coming in every 30 minutes. Also, the food was surprisingly good. I thoroughly enjoyed have three yummy and complete meals a day served in bed! Of course, as soon as the food was dropped off, the baby would start fussing, so many of my meals were eaten over his head. I'm sure eating one-handed will be a pretty common occurrence from now on. As long as Larkin doesn't mind a few crumbs on his head now and then, we'll be fine!

We were situated in a private room even though I had forgotten to ask (I think my doctor had taken care of this for me) which was a serious blessing. Because of the private room, Jonathan was able to stay in the room with me around the clock, and I was able to keep Larkin in-room without worrying about disturbing anyone. And I wouldn't have made it without Jonathan. Although he was busy working to meet several deadlines and handle some serious professional drama, he was on point to help me get around through the surgery aches and pains (and severe swollen legs and feet - OUCH!), to play pillow origami as Larkin and I tried to get the hang of nursing, and a million other supports - including CHANGING EVERY SINGLE DIAPER! Talk about a great husband... and a seriously good daddy.

On Saturday, the nurses started talking about keeping him an extra day or two, and I nearly flipped out. I had spent five months in bed, trying to ensure my baby wouldn't have to spend any extra time in the hospital! But at the last minute, the pediatrician gave us the go ahead, and we got to take him home with us.


All that fit of his going home outfit.

Unimpressed.

As you can see, he wasn't very impressed with the whole "getting dressed" situation... especially since I had to dress and undress him a few times before I gave up on the too cute 'going home' outfit I had brought to the hospital. He may be 7 lb, 12 oz - but he is one long and lanky baby! Anyway, Daddy went to the cafe to grab us a quick lunch (I had the option of waiting for one last room service meal, but even the offer of one final meal in bed couldn't keep me in the hospital for one more second!) and Larkin had a brief nursing session to calm him from the drama of getting dressed.

Milk coma!

We made it out to the car, and spent several minutes trying to figure out how to get the car seat buckled up. Larkin just looked so precious and tiny in his car seat. It was so amazing to finally have a baby in the seat we installed with such dedication months ago.



Let me just say: SCARIEST CAR RIDE EVER. As scary as Houston traffic always is, it's brain damaging to try to maneuver it with such precious cargo. I'm not going to lie, I rode in the back seat with Larkin! Actually, it was pretty sweet. Daddy chauffeured us home, while Larkin held my finger tight and we both slept soundly the whole way home (we were officially worn out!)

Various family members were waiting to welcome us home. We visited for a short while before Larkin demanded a feeding, and then we all collapsed in utter exhaustion (FYI: a hospital is NOT a restful place!).

Cuddles with Mommy

Cuddles with Daddy

I am so glad to be home, and overjoyed to finally have a baby to fill out all the swing and crib and tiny baby clothes we've been collecting! We are still getting the hang of our new family dynamic, but Larkin already fits in completely. It's so cool to be a FAMILY.

Birth Videos

Here are a few videos Jonathan shot it the delivery room immediately following Larkin's birth. I'm so glad we had the camera handy, since I missed the first few minutes while the doctor completed my c-section. Plus, the sound of that sweet cry fills my heart! I never want to forget the details of that moment.

Immediately after birth
Getting measured and meeting Mommy
Hanging out with Mommy and Daddy
Greeting the world!

The Beginning... A Birth Story

It was 10:30 on Monday night. I was just settling in, and preparing to lug my hugely pregnant self out to the driveway to hang out with Jonathan. We’d gotten in the habit of hanging out on nice evenings, planning and anticipating our upcoming life change. I was exactly 38 weeks along, so we knew our little man would be making his appearance any day, and we couldn’t be more excited.

38 weeks pregnant

I stopped for my sixty four thousandth trip of the day to the restroom, and exited with some confusion. Jonathan met me at the doorway and asked what was wrong.
“I think my water just broke.”
“You THINK? You don’t know??”
And I didn’t. I had no clue. (P.S. If you’ve never been involved in the birth process, it actually isn’t that crazy. The water breaking doesn’t happen like it does in the movies.) But I called my doctor, and he insisted we come to the hospital so they could run some tests.

We grabbed our bags, but felt pretty sure we’d be coming back home shortly. During the drive to the hospital, we laughed through quiet nerves, and hoped that our next trip would include a baby in the car seat. The walk through the hospital and up to L & D was tough on my body, especially after having been on bed rest for five months. But Larkin was finally taking it easy, and I’d had less contractions that week than I’d had since 20 weeks.

We got situated in a room, and the nurse ran a test for amniotic fluid. The first test was inconclusive. Jonathan rolled his eyes. The second test was inconclusive. I started to get sad, assuming we’d be going home that night. After taking the third test, the nurse smiled at us. “Your water broke. Your baby will be here in the next 24 hours.”

Here we go!

I stood up in panic, and my water chose that moment to seriously break. We were on the roller coaster! We called family, and requested they wait until later to come to the hospital. The doctor wanted to give me a few hours to see if labor would start spontaneously before he started Pitocin and we planned to get a few hours sleep before then.

At 4 am, Dr. Pinell came by with a hug. He examined me, and came back with the disappointing news that I was only dilated to 1 cm, with no effacement, and the baby hadn’t dropped at all. He warned us that we were probably in for a long journey, but since there is no telling what effect the Pitocin would have, we went ahead and summoned the family.

Now the problems begin. I was offered an epidural, but wanted to wait at least until my contractions started before I got it. However, the Pitocin required the baby to be monitored constantly, which meant I had to lay flat on my back. This is NOT a comfortable position when you’re 9 months pregnant! Between pregnancy pains and the discomfort of my usual backaches, I was in excruciating pain – even though I hadn’t had a single real contraction since they’d started monitoring me. The nurses had to fuss at me because I kept making excuses to get up to try and relieve the pain and was messing up their monitoring. They finally talked me into accepting a dose of pain medication so I could relax.

Waiting...

The pain meds let me get my first bit of sleep all night, but they wore off quickly. Larkin had started showing signs of distress after each tiny contraction, and they needed continuous monitoring, so I agreed to the epidural. This ended up complicating matters further, because they had to keep increasing the dosage in order to try and help my back. Shortly after the epidural was inserted, I was 100% dead weight from the waist down (a typical epidural is supposed to leave you with some feeling and control) and STILL having stabbing pains in my upper back.

The complete numbness was psychologically stressful. I spent the next several hours in a state of panic – convincing myself that I’d never feel my legs again. Then Larkin’s distress started increasing. Now I was panicking for myself and my precious little one. I had spent my entire pregnancy trying to keep him healthy and growing, and now I was terrified of losing him at the last second.

The doctor came back to examine me again. After 14 hours on Pitocin, I was only at 3 cm, barely effaced, and the baby hadn’t dropped at all. My contractions were irregular, and each one was sending the boy further into distress. Dr. Pinell took my hand, and said what I’d been dreading since those lines turned pink:
“We’re going to have to consider a c-section.”

I agreed, and everyone split off in a million directions to prepare for surgery. Jonathan climbed into his surgery suit, my mom kissed me and promised prayers, then they wheeled me out into the blindingly bright hallway. I was scared but heart stoppingly excited, knowing I would meet my son in a matter of minutes.

I was wheeled into surgery while Jonathan waited in the hallway. They moved me onto the table and began prepping me. I was shaking so violently that the anesthesiologist held my hand in sympathy and rushed the others to let Jonathan come in. Once he came in, he sat on a stool by my head and I gripped his hand for all I was worth. The surgery proceeded, but my eyes were locked on Jonathan. I just felt like as long as he was there, everything would be okay.



I won’t go into details about the surgery, I’ll just say it was way more painful than I was expecting, considering I’d been completely numb from the chest down for hours. But just when I thought I couldn’t bear it for another second, I heard the sweetest sound in the world. The doctor lifted Larkin’s tiny body over the surgical sheet, and said… something. I don’t know. I don’t care. I saw my baby, and in that baby was my whole world. Everything else stopped, and it was just me and him and Jonathan. And everything was perfect. Seriously. Stars aligned, galaxies moved, heaven sang. It was well and truly amazing.

Seriously, tell me he isn't beautiful!

And then – he was gone. They whisked my boy away to be measured and weighed and blah blah blah. (I will insert for the record that he was 7 lbs, 12 oz and 21 inches long. He received an almost perfect 9.9 on his APGAR test and was born with dark blue eyes, blonde hair, and almost no eyelashes and eyebrows. He was truly gorgeous, a fact exclaimed at by all the nurses, second only to the doctor laughing at the size of his enormous feet. He was none the worse for wear from his distress, which had been due to the umbilical cord being wrapped around his leg. Poor little guy. He was trying to join the party, but he was just all tangled up!)

All I knew was that I was HERE and my baby was over THERE and that SUCKED. I called to Jonathan (who was busy filming the moment) to ask what Larkin looked like, and (bless his heart) he lied through his teeth and told me he looked like both of us (the boy is positively a clone of his daddy). So I just laid my head back and waited. I just breathed in the sounds of his beautiful cry – and it was beautiful - the most precious indignant mewling you’ve ever heard.

And then he was in my arms. And we studied each other, and I whispered hello. “You are so beautiful”, I said to my son. I laid there as long as they allowed, holding him, and marveling over this miracle in my arms. Suddenly, my life made sense. Every good thing, every bad thing, every tiny detail – they all made sense, and they were all OKAY - because they had brought me there. To that moment, with that man and that baby. And everything was okay, and new, and beautiful.





My son was here. He was safe, and healthy, and beautiful, and he fit in my arms perfectly. My life had begun.