The Morning Of Your Birth--Game Plan

I didn't sleep well after the events of the night before.
I really hadn't planned on sleeping, actually.
We were "taking a break" which, in hindsight, was probably Jill's kind way of letting me down easy.
But deep down, I knew we were done with homebirthing.

I'd thought then, that night, that I'd truly never been more exhausted but I would prove myself wrong.
The day of your birth, that morning when I officially woke, it was then that I'd never been more exhausted.
I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours at this point so I was physically drained and mentally, I'd shut down a bit.
I was almost despondent.
So very disappointed.
And while I knew I'd be having a baby later in the day, I had a whole different take on how things would go.

Since I woke up without any contractions, my plan was to make a leisurely appearance at the hospital.
Because I was so tired and would be in the hospital anyway, I now planned on a medicated birth.

(There is no shame in a medicated birth, in my opinion.  Unless you are the woman currently feeling like your insides are being set on fire and twisted up like scrap metal, I say "shut yer piehole."  Luxie, you do what you want when it comes to this and don't let anyone persuade you one way or another.  I'll always give you my take on the matter since I've now done it both ways but there are pros and cons to each.  More than anything else, I say "stay away from Nazi nurses."  In fact, I will gladly help you in this matter!  BUT, if you would like to know, I'd choose natural.  Surprised?)

I woke Daddy up around 7:30am.
I'd slept so badly that I could've woken him at 5:00, 5:20, 5:45, 6:10, or any twenty minute period after that.
But I wanted to make a game plan for the day and this seemed like a less cruel hour than the ones previously mentioned.

I had no idea that the midwives had stayed overnight.
They slept on our couches and it's still strange to me that I never thought about where they went or what they were doing after leaving my bedroom the night before.
I guess it makes sense that they would be there but still.
I was sort of thrown by that but immensely happy that they were near.

I never truly believed that either of us were in any harm, I know I keep saying that.
But I should admit that I was very uncomfortable the night before and was worried about you being stressed from all the laboring activity.
At one point, your hair could been seen from my birthing position so I know it just must've been wild for you, too.
The in and out, and starting and stopping, the strange hands in your private space.
I wanted to hear your heartbeat.
I knew Jill had the Doppler in her bag and I just wanted to hear you.
And then I could get on with my day.

When Daddy woke up, he asked me what I wanted to do.
I said that I knew we should go to the hospital at that point.
What else could be done?
He went to get Jill.

Jill came up and we talked for a bit in my bed.
She knew I was disappointed and tired but I think there was another emotion coursing through me and it was this woman-on-the-verge thing.
I was hanging on by a thread.
What I wanted to do was spend the day in my bed moping and feeling sorry for myself.
And sleeping.
God, I need sleep so badly that morning.

I wanted to be left completely alone--I didn't even want Daddy around.
I needed time to sort of recover from the whole everything-but-nothing from the day before.
But I knew I was totally out of time.
Jill and Abby were both in support of me leaving home and having you in the hospital, the sooner, the better, since now we'd opened us up to infection.
I know this because I pushed the issue one last time.
But THIS time it was YOUR choosing!

When Jill and I were first speaking, she asked how I was feeling and I told her all that I just wrote here.
And then I said, "And last night I was having all those contractions and today--nothing."
Because it was true.
I wasn't having any contractions that morning.
It was like the events of the night before were already a distant memory to my uterus.

I moved from my bed into the bathroom and I started pulling things out for my hospital bag.
I wasn't crying but I was just...quiet.
Tired.
Sad.
Dreading the day.

Isn't that strange to say?
And it's not that I dreaded your birth--that was the only bright spot in all of it.
But I did not want to go to the hospital in my condition.
I did not want to be the homebirth-gone-bad.
I did not want to be harassed about my water being broken.
(And now that time has passed, I can say it: I lied to them about the timing of that.  I think I shaved off, oh, a DAY because I absolutely KNEW they'd totally flip out.)
I did not want to be in the hospital environment, didn't want to stay there, didn't want to leave your siblings, didn't want to, didn't want to, didn't want to.

Jill listened to me and then she planted the seed of all seeds:
"Angi, no one can MAKE you stay in the hospital."
I'm sorry, what?
No one can MAKE me?
I looked at her.
"What will happen if I leave?"
"You will have to sign papers taking full responsibility for yourself and your baby.  And they won't like it one bit.  It's not done often but it CAN be done."

I didn't make my decision right then and there to leave but I was super happy she tucked that bit of info into what was left of my brain because I would later need it.
I can recall the EXACT moment when I made the decision to walk "against medical advice" and it wasn't until after you'd arrived.
I was treated precisely how I thought I'd have been treated by my labor and delivery nurse and the doctor in charge of your birth.
But when that treatment extended to YOU, we were out of there.
(I'll tell you more later.  I'm getting ahead of myself!)

Jill and Daddy and I discussed hospital choices.
She preferred us going to Grant but I was definitely hesitant.
We have a terrific surburban hospital about three minutes from us with a gorgeous maternity wing and all kinds of bells and whistles.
Plus I'd already delivered there twice (Chas and Creux) so that's where I wanted to go.
But Jill and Abby were more comfortable dealing with the staff at Grant as this was where they typically took their patients who needed "help".
Grant, however, is inner city.
Like people go there for gun-shot wounds from bar-room brawls.
It was not giving me the warm and fuzzy, to say the least.
They left the decision up to me and I pushed it back on Daddy.
He felt like they would know better in this situation so I went with it.

(I do not regret this decision and believe that while I MIGHT have received slightly better care in the beginning, I would have faced a much bigger battle getting us out of there if we were at St. Ann's.)

Jill left to make the call to Grant to alert them that we were coming in.
I wanted a shower, even though I'd showered the night before.
Really, I think I needed an excuse for alone time.
I needed to pull myself together emotionally, at least the bare minimum.
I'd already planned to help myself out physically with the epidural so I figured I was good there.
But I needed some time to come to terms with everything that had happened and was about to happen.
I needed to find some strength to at least get me to the hospital.
I was so very, very tired.

I had no idea that everything was seconds away from changing yet again.
There would be no rest for me.

You--11 Weeks, 3 Days

Luxe,
You are THE MOST STUBBORN baby we've had.
And I know you hate it but you MUST make peace with your car seat because I feel like a child abuser whenever we go somewhere.
I just keep thinking about how it must not make any sense to you that I won't come and stop your crying.
I know you only want picked up.
But I'm driving, child!

When you start, you do not give in until you get what you want.
Your father says you get that from me.
He's right.
But it IS annoying to be on the receiving side of such...determination.
If you start crying in the driveway, you will continue crying until we reach our destination and by then you're practically hyper-ventilating.
And SO AM I.

I don't understand this!
I make sure you're fed and clean before we go anywhere.
You are surrounded by siblings--you face the Littles since you sit backwards and you'd think those two monkeys would be entertaining but nope.
And Rhyse and Chas sit next to you.
But your wailing is just out of control.
PLEASE stop.
It's horrible for both of us and I feel like a need a valium just to get to the grocery and back.

You're digging your heels in over the stupid swing, too.
As it turns out, you really do not want to sleep anywhere else.
And also as it turns out, if I can't make it happen then you won't sleep--you will only doze for about 15-20 minutes in my arms.
By the time I finally get us back home, you're overly tired and you are mean!
Yowling at me from across the room, yowling at me while I carry you, yowling at me while I bounce and snuggle and even sometimes feed.
You'll break your suction to yowl some more just as a reminder to me how pissed you are.
I GET IT.
But we have things to do!
And you, the fifth baby, are supposed to think the car is your napping place, not a torture chamber! 
You're supposed to be happy sleeping on the run.
And yet.
You.
Are.
Not.

Bummer.

You giggled finally. 
We were in the car last week and Chas was talking about how you giggled and Daddy was shaking his head when I asked him.
"Did she?  Oh my gosh, did she?  I MISSED IT?"
No, no, no, he kept assuring me.
But I think you giggled for them first and he just won't tell me for fear of some massive hormonal meltdown-y sobfest.
It doesn't matter though because right after that I made you laugh and you totally chuckled briefly.
Not a full belly cackle yet but it's progress.

You also totally barfed in Chas's face the other day and I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.
He sneaks into our nest in the mornings after I feed you and he picks you up and plays with you.
Makes you fly, makes you bounce, makes you smile.
And also makes you barf :)
I was sorting clothes in my closet (what to wear, WHAT TO WEAR?) when I heard the worst sound emerge from your tiny little body. 
It was a... man belch.
I don't know how it escaped from bitty little you but it was impressive.

And I looked up to see Chas with his eyes squished closed, his mouth smashed tight....and lots of curdy breastmilk dripping down his lips and chin.
He was holding you and you were standing, just looking at him curiously.
I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe--it was great fun!
Thanks for that :)
(Though Chas, he's a tad more careful with just-fed-You these days.  Haha.)

You're 11 pounds.
I took the Littles in for check-ups and snuck you onto the scale.
11 pounds.
Almost double your birth weight.

I like slightly pudgy You.
We pinch your inner thigh rolls, tug at the second chin you've developed, kiss your round squishy cheeks.
When you were first born, you reminded me of a wee baby bird.
But now you're like a goose.
Not quite a Christmas goose but on your way.

My favorite thing right now?
When you're nursing and I'm talking to you, sometimes you smile while trying to eat.
Suck, suck, suck, pause....GRIN....suck, suck, suck.
I love that.

And I'll tell you it sure as hell beats your yowling at me!

Tomorrow you're going to need your Big Girl Panties, Luxe, as it's co-op day-- followed by two soccer games and a dance class.
I apologize in advance for the nervous breakdown that you're going to have around 4:00pm, followed by mine at 4:45.
It's bad for you, worse for me.

We will snuggle in November, I promise.
The cold weather will come, our obligations will wind down, and me and you--we're going to hibernate and have long lazy nursings back in our nest.
It's a date.
(And I can't wait!)

Love,
Mama

You--10 Weeks

I've had mass amounts of anxiety over my non-posting for you.
I swore I'd do better, posting shorter yet more frequently and I was doing so good there for a bit but MAN.
It's hard to take care of you AND write to you!
I'm wiped by the end of the days and it's all I can do to toss up a few cute shots of you and your sibs over on my other blog.

Life has taken a tremendous turn for crazy.
Luxie, you are the bestest baby ever and I mean that sincerely.
Ever since the start of the month, I have dragged you from place to place.
I can't get past it, can't get around it.
We no longer cuddle in my bed for late mornings or afternoon naps--there simply is no time.
I took one nap with you recently, on the first Thursday that we started back to co-op, and I'm not even sure I'd call it a nap.
A mid-day, short-term COMA might be more accurate.

So let me catch you up on you really quickly and then I need to get showered.
I can only shower at night right now while you're sleeping in your swing as my days are too busy and I'm NOT getting up early.

--Your eyelashes are fully in.  I noticed this today and took some photos.
Yes, of your eyelashes.

--Luxe, you HATE your carseat and I can't fix this for you.  I never ever expected you to dislike that thing so much but if I found a needle buried in the back of it, it would make total sense to me.  You sit backwards smack dab in the middle of our car, surrounded by siblings (two facing you, two beside you) and it does not make a damn bit of difference.  If you set that thing on fire once you're able to walk, I will totally understand.

--Your swing is where you like to sleep and I don't like this at all.  Wasn't I just saying how important I felt it was to shelter you from the noise and chaos downstairs?  You're now up in the mornings around 8:30-9:00 and you'll stay awake for an hour or so.  We'll cruise the downstairs together, cleaning up the kitchen or doing schoolwork.  Then you'll drift off in my arms and I'll sneak you into bed but you never sleep long there.
If we're home (which we aren't), I'll wait until Creux heads down for his nap so it's nice and quiet and then pop you into the swing where you'd happily sleep for DAYS if I let you.

--Your hair is coming in more.  Strawberry blonde?

--No giggles yet but tons of smiles and my fave coos.  We talk.  A LOT. 
We're girls, we do that.

--Almost all of your newborn clothing has been packed away.  Just a few sleeping gowns are all that's left.

--This is what people say when they first meet you:
"She looks just like the rest of them, doesn't she?"
"Oh my goodness, she looks EXACTLY like her big sister!"  (You do.  It's uncanny.)
"She's so tiny!  How much did she weigh when she was born?"

That last one is so strange to me because I think you're huge!   You're nice and solid in my arms, you have two chins and some really cute rolls down by your girly bits.  No cellulite yet (I keep checking cause I adore baby cellulite) but we're working on it.  Not sure how much you weigh but am guessing somewhere in the 9-10 pound range.

--I've left you several times already.  Last week I had to get my hair done and I was a nervous wreck, terrified that you'd wake and need me and that I'd be out in Granville having my fall low-lights put in my hair.
I walked in and said, "I don't have long today.  If my sitter calls, I'm walking out with wet, uncut hair if I need to so LET'S MOVE IT!"  Because I really didn't need uncut hair.  I'd gone almost three long months without any diva maintenancing and BOY did I need it.

--You're just so different these days.  You're a big girl, two and a half months old.  No more newborny stuff, even sleep-wise--no more.  No sleeping on my tummy, no more totally sporadic feeds (you can go three hours now and most times you do), no more baby coma, no more just...newness.  You're established somewhat and you've acclimated yourself here just fine.  You tolerate the noise pretty well, not even freaking out when someone goes running past you shrieking over someone taking something of theirs.  Of course, you've been listening to that crap ever since you were a twinkle in my eye so maybe that's not so surprising.

--I bought THE CUTEST Halloween get-up for you.  Not a costume, a...frock.  With tulle and glitter and sparkles.  Halloween should be every day for you.

You're just a delight.
I love you madly and even on the short runs that I do while you're sleeping...I can't wait to get back to you.
When you sleep long, I can't wait for you to wake so I can kiss and cuddle you a bit.
I miss you in my sleep so I dream about you.
I. Am. Smitten.

Happy 10 weeks to you.

Love,
Mama

P.S.  I will do better posting. Again.  This is a long-term project at this point, I see no reason not to continue to write to you so...I'm in for the haul.  I just need the days to be 30 hours instead of 24.  I could do so much with those extra six hours, you have no idea....

The Night You Weren't Born

So when you read this finally, you'll see that big gap from where I last say, "See you soon!" and then...nothing.

I was going to fill it in, to backtrack, but I'm sticking to the authenticity of Your Story.

There's a gap for a reason and the reason was that I couldn't get back to my computer. 
It didn't really matter anyway because you weren't there yet.
And I couldn't have updated that post to save my life in the moment.

I said before that nothing went as planned and this much is true.
Things seemed to be going really well but it was just a facade.
You weren't coming that night because you weren't meant to.
And believe me, I tried everything I could think of to convince you to change your mind.

The rush, I suppose, was only in that our risk of infection was rising with each hour that passed.
I truly believed that if either Abby or Jill would just help me out a bit internally that it would be enough to trigger my labor.
I was right...and wrong.

I'd also said a few days before you were born that I knew we were getting close but two things had to happen before you'd arrive.
One was that I'd have an epic meltdown.
And the other thing I relied on was a really vigorous and compelling round of false labor.
(And I think I also mentioned that my false labor trips have all been POST internal exams.)
I had no idea when I said this that these two things were mandatory pre-birth experiences.
I now know better.
They are.

This is Part One of Your Birth Story.
Part Two has already been partially shared on Lifelines but only partially.
I kept a lot for just you.

So I left off on July 4th, where Jill had come over, stripped my membranes, realized that I was a good 6-7 cm dilated and wanted to stick around as my contractions took off, both of us fully expecting your arrival in a short amount of time.
By the time Abby arrived, I was well on my way, with my contractions strong and long and relatively uncomfortable.

My mom had also come by--pre-membrane stripping, we'd invited her for dinner.
So while I labored upstairs, Daddy and all of the kids plus Memaw rushed through their meals.
The plan was that Memaw would take the small ones, leaving the boys behind to witness your arrival, and then she would bring them back as soon as we called with your news.
It was only sometime in the 5 to 6:00 hour at this point and honestly, I think we all thought we'd have a baby within the next hour or so.

I labored in bed for a bit, waiting for Daddy to come up and for the Littles to leave and for things to really pick up for me.
In hindsight, I should have known it was too easy.
Because it was.
Though I had to breathe through the contractions with concentration, would go completely still and silent when working through one, I just should have known.
(Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say.  But the very next morning, when I stepped into the shower and was slammed with my first REAL contraction, I knew the difference immediately.)

The weirdest thing about this round of false labor, and this is my personal belief of what it was, was that for all intents and purposes, my body really portrayed signs of impending birth.
I fully dilated at some point and fully effaced.
This is just beyond bizarre to me--I had no idea this could happen during false labor.
But it is a condition that DOES exist as Abby showed me the box she checked on some sort of official paperwork after the fact but it's rare.
Wouldn't you just know it :)

Anyway, when I was fully dilated and effaced, (I did truly reach 10cm) Abby and Jill said I could start pushing.
Again, I should have known something wasn't quite right because though my body acted ready for birth, I never felt that urge to push.
And I can honestly say, having now gone through natural labor, that that urge is the strongest of urges I've ever felt.
There's hunger and thirst and human contact...and pushing.
Those are the true basic urges that exist, if you ask me.
So I never felt that.
But I pushed anyway.

I moved from our bed and labored standing which actually felt much better.
And I pushed in this position for awhile, with everyone there, the boys included.
It was far more awkward than I had anticipated but that was because I wasn't so far gone in pain.
As opposed to real labor, where the whole entire free world could see my goodies and I wouldn't bat  an eye, so focused on dealing with my own private pain-consumed hell, here there started to be lulls in my contractions which left us all sort of waiting...and staring at my mostly naked self.
It just didn't feel right to me and I was growing uncomfortable with my audience and I could tell Abby in particular was growing concerned with my lack of progress,
I think we all started to suspect that something was amiss at about the same time.

Time slipped away from me.
I looked at the clock and couldn't believe so much time had passed.
At this point, we'd been "pushing" for over an hour.
I was exhausted and getting frustrated.
What was going on?
I never dreamed it would have taken me more than ten minutes to actually push you into the world.
(In reality, it took me about a minute--one contraction, two pushes.)

At some point, Jill decided to check me internally while I was pushing.
I was still standing beside the bed so she reached up during the next contraction and then she yelled, "STOP!"
Stop? 
"When you started pushing, your cervix closed back up."

This was not good.

This basically meant that I couldn't get you out, no matter how hard I tried.
It meant that if I continued pushing, you would bruise my cervix and then I'd be in real trouble.
It meant that we had to stop and this was bad because now we'd really messed around up near you and the risk of infection for both of us just went soaring.
It meant that if things did not change fast, that we were going to be going to the hospital.

So we stopped.

Whereas before this was this buildup of excitement as my contractions had picked up, now there was a heaviness in the room.
I know we were all thinking the same thing and it was this: something was just not right.
Not at all.

We backpedaled majorly.
The boys left the room as the adults talked.
Going to the hospital was definitely mentioned by the midwives but I hadn't given up yet.

"How much time will you give me?" I wanted to know.
I was still hopeful that things would pick back up but really, I knew they wouldn't.
I had already started to suspect that we were done for the night.
d AnI felt like my body was betraying me.

"If nothing happens by morning," they said.

We decided that we'd take a break.
Charlie and I would go for a walk and see if we couldn't get my contractions to pick back up.
I know this is a method that works a lot of times for laboring women but this was just so far off from what I knew.
I've never had to convince my body into labor before.
Normally I'm given notice, the kind I needed "five minutes ago."
Normally I go straight from being fine one minute to intense labor in just a handful.

We walked but my spirits were down, down, down.
During the time we were out there, I would have some good, strong contractions but not as strong as what I was having earlier or what I remembered needing in order to bring you out.

We probably walked for 45 minutes or so and on our second round, we saw Abby come out of the house and walk down to the sidewalk to meet us.
She wanted to talk to me.

As it turned out, Abby was starting to wonder if there wasn't some mental stuff going on with me.
Maybe was I deep down worried about this home birth?  Too scared of a natural labor?
Or was it more rooted than that...perhaps was I worried about your birth because I was conflicted about how I'd care for another in addition to all that I already do?

"We're a lot alike, " I remember her saying, "I like to be very in control, too."

But I was certain then and am absolutely certain now that it wasn't some sort of mental block--this stalling of my labor.
I hadn't yet clued in that it was necessarily a trip of false labor---instead I started to worry that something wasn't working right physically.
There's definitely merit found in each of her inquiries but there's also nothing but truth in my response.
It was not mental.
It was, what I firmly believe, my typical round of false labor which has always occurred in the hours following an internal exam.
Nothing less and nothing more.

It was probably around 10:30-11:00pm at this point and I knew we were giving up.
Labor shouldn't be a forced thing, it never has been in the past for me, and I could tell that I was pushing an issue that wasn't to be pushed.
We went inside and talked to the midwives.
We all agreed to take a break and to see how we felt in a few hours.

I never left my bedroom after that so I had no idea that they both ended up sleeping on the couch.
I was a totally exhausted woman by that point, beaten so bad physically and emotionally.
I wanted time alone and so I took a hot shower.
My contractions totally subsided.

When I came out I was so tired, I could barely speak nor keep my eyes open.
Daddy was tired too--at some point, he came to bed and fell right to sleep.
And though I was exhausted, I did not sleep much or well.
We'd just that day placed a light in the pool off our deck and it glowed eerily all night long, disturbing my sleep.
I'd forgotten as well that we'd turned off the fan and opened the deck door to warm up the bedroom for your arrival and everything was still this way.
The room was hot and strangely illuminated.
I tossed and turned and woke hourly.

This was to be the only time during the whole birthing experience that I truly worried about your well-being.
I was very concerned that you had become stressed during that whole laboring ordeal and I kept poking you throughout the night.
I also knew that I no longer could justify staying home any longer.
Deep down, I was not comfortable.
I hated imagining what the next day would bring for me except for this one thing: I knew for sure that you would be in my arms by the end of it.
I imagined an uncomfortable but uneventful check-in, a "typical for me" easy, fast delivery, and a sweet baby to hold finally.

Little did I know that you surely were to be in my arms hours later but that was the only thing I was right about.

***I'm going to switch these posts over to birth entries for the next little while so I can make sure to get this down for you.  It's taken me FAR too long to get this much out and it's because I tried to do it all in one entry.

You--Seven Weeks, Six Days

You seem so very big to me these days and yet, I'll take you out in public and you will stop pedestrian traffic with your cuteness.
"Ooooohhh, a NEW one!" 
People love to say that.
And then, "How old is she?"
You're never mistaken for a boy which is interesting to me.
Both Chas and Rhyse, regardless of how I dressed them, were always thought to be girls to strangers.
It used to drive me crazy.

My response to "How old is she?" is now somehow...two months.
Two beautiful months.
I can't believe it.

You could not have made the adjustment any easier for your family and it's evident to me even now as I zoom around town, running errands easily (relatively speaking--nothing is easy these days), and just feeling comfortable with you in the mix out and about.

I remember with Creux that it was only about this time that I ventured out alone with him.
Unlike you, I never knew what he was going to do--whether we'd get in the middle of grocery shopping and he'd flip out or if he'd sleep peacefully the whole time.
It always seemed like the former would happen, even at home, so I was terrified to take him out publicly on my own.
Even with Greer, I just really felt my child load.
She was a wonderful baby like you but I was outnumbered for the first time and I was a little spooked about that.

At the same time, I've been through Creux and I can honestly say that I don't think it would ever be harder than what it was.
Each child changes you in a way and where Rhyse cracked my composure, my "everything needs to be perfect" way of thinking, Creux took it and ground it into the road, stomping and spitting on anything I had left.
The thing about being beaten down like that is when you get back up, you're just better able to cope in general.
So I think my tolerance of slightly hard situations (like running errands with a 5 and 2 year-old and a feeding-on-demand infant) has improved just due to life experience.
Creux did us all a favor.
As it turns out, I can be down but never out.
I didn't know that before.

You have wrapped this entire household right around your itty bitty finger.
Me, I was a goner when the stick said "pregnant" but it's sweet to see how much your daddy has fallen in love with you.
He's very, very hands-on and he always has been.
He loves babies.
But he's definitely just a bit sweeter with his girls and it's touching to watch.
He scoops you up, tells you that you're the most beautiful baby in the whole world, lets you scream at him when I'm getting ready for bed and never takes it personally :)

Chas is the same way--he may be a 13 year-old boy but he's a baby lover to the end.
He's always up for helping out with you and will hold you so that I can jump in the shower or make lunch or just...DO something for myself for three minutes.
My favorite is when he's totally engrossed in playing some online game (the boys and their games, I tell you...) and your snug right there in his lap, hooked in his arm.

Rhyse loves you rough, doesn't he?
He too asks for time with you but he still makes me a bit nervous.  He's probably who you will find either the most fun or most terrifying brother, depending on your level of "HOLY CRAP!"ness.
But he's the first to say, "I'll go talk to her!" when we hear you start to fuss on the monitor.
And he does take good care of you.
He just thinks you're two is all :)

Greer and Creux spend the most time with you because they spend the most time with me.
I can't remember if I wrote about it here or on Lifelines but her first reaction to you surprised me to my core.
When we walked in from the hospital, she was napping but she came down soon after we arrived.
And I was so excited for her to meet you--she'd wanted a sister so badly and had insisted that the baby in my tummy was a girl all along.
But she totally snubbed you!
She came down and we held you out and she eyed you cooly, briefly, and then said something about going to play and she walked away.
Certainly I'd heard about new baby jealousy and/or ambivalance yet I just was surprised that it hit her like that.

She did come around pretty quickly though and she's never looked back since.
"She'll be your best friend," I keep telling her when she sits with us in bed.
Because I hope so much for this to be true.
She loves you something fierce these days and is always helping me pack away clothes and shoes that don't fit her anymore.
"These are for Luxie," she'll say.
Me, I just shrink back in horror to think of you, my tiny baby up in bed, being four and fitting into this stuff.

I totally need to get a grip, don't I?
I know, I know.

Creux, look, there's no telling what he'd do if he was left to take care of you for awhile but he manages pretty well honestly.
His hands always play over your head and they're just so BIG compared to you and boy are they dirty.
(ALWAYS dirty.)
"Wuxie," is what he says.
But he loves you mad, he's always kissing your head and smelling you.

We all smell you.
It's the weirdest, most primal thing.
You really have no scent but your own.
And it's addictive.
I'd know you from a bazillion babies in a heartbeat just from smell alone.

New with you:

You're slowly moving into 3-6 month sized clothes and I'm packing away some of the newborn stuff.

You're never swaddled anymore which I HATE because I just love a bundled little sack of baby but you're too long and you move far too much.

I've been giving you baths lately and it's heartbreakingly sweet.  You are so tiny sopping wet and just as vunerable as can be.  You never cry.  You just stare up at me trustingly.

Your hair is growing longer and starting to fill in.  It's still standing straight up on top but looks less bizarre now that it sort of seems like it'll just be curly.  It's really curly when wet.  Adorable.

The swing has become an acceptable place for you (so says you) and now I'm able to get some free time in the evenings.  I'm not nursing you for that three hour, 10-1, period at night anymore.  I'll nurse you, Daddy will usually take you and plop you in the swing for a nap, I'll spend some time putting your siblings to bed, cleaning up, blogging a bit and then I come back for you.  We'll head up to bed and at this time I DO wake you even though I still hate to.  But I didn't one night and you woke me up two hours after I fell asleep and that was horrid so now, we do a fresh diaper and a big fill-up while I watch a quick tv show and then...zzzzzz.

You're still sleeping like a champ.  I am forever indebted to you for all the sleep you've allowed me to collect in these early days.  I'm still tired but more from my lifestyle (5 kids, homeschooling, activity-hauling out the wazoo) than from having a newborn.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I will try to remember this when you dye your hair pink at the age of 16 and I am tempted to handcuff you to the kitchen table.

You have amazing head control and you keep rolling from your side to your belly.
I hope this is not indicative of things to come because I really don't want you walking at six months of age.
What is WITH all of my kids being gross-motor advanced?
Your brother Creux just started riding a two wheeler.
He's TWO.
I feel like I should call the Guinness people or something.

I found a sling that I love and you're always in it.
The only bad thing is that it keeps you snug and close to your favorite, um, things on my body so you spend ten minutes rooting around in the right area and totally drooling all over the place before calming down and just hanging out.
But it feels so good to strap you on.  It feels good for many reasons but mainly because I love being so close to you and I know that you love being so close to me.

You look for me these days.  If I'm speaking, you'll turn in my direction and try to find me.  It's SUPER sweet.  And of course, I can't help but snatch you back from whoever had you and walk off kissing, kissing, kissing you.

You talk back now, cooing slightly at me when I talk to you.
Combined with those big smiles, I just know we're close to a giggle.

Our crazy life has picked up and you're on the go far more than I'd like for you to be but it can't be helped.
School has resumed, soccer's in full force, your siblings have tons going on and so I'm dragging you from the nest a lot these days.
I HATE waking you from a good nap.
I sit and try to think of ways around it, knowing that I can't but trying anyway, before gently pulling you from your sleep.
You're pretty good about this, too.
You could rage and it would be well-deserved but you don't.

You're pretty perfect, Luxie.

I love you crazy.  Really and truly crazy. 
I'd do anything for you, including getting off this blog so that I can go up and snuggle with you as I can hear you stirring on the monitor.
Rhyse just went up to hold you off.
"Mom?  Want me to go talk to her?"
I told you.
You're a lucky girl.
You are so loved.

Love,
Mama

You--Seven Weeks

Happy Week Seven to you!
I have to say, not only are you super easy, you're super sweet.
Precious all the way around from your tiny little toes to the wacky half-curls sticking straight up off your head!

I was thinking over the weekend, sort of reflecting on our pregnancy together.
What I liked, what I didn't, what I thought overall.

My "high" points were:

-the ease with which you were conceived--it's nice to try and have it work so efficiently.

-the last family vacation we took back in May--I was feeling magnificent and could also feel you really well and that always puts a pregnant mind at ease.  It was the most relaxed I've been in a long time.

-the homebirth route--am super glad I embarked on this despite a swing-and-a-miss in the end.  Would do it again absolutely.

-your birth--am SUPER glad I did it naturally, though I will admit to begging REPEATEDLY for an epidural in the hospital.  I never knew something so wonderful could hurt so incredibly bad but now that I know I can do it, I'm in--should there be another opportunity.

-leaving the hospital immediately--I am so happy we stuck to our guns.  There was a pivotal moment after your birth that changed everything for me.  I had been toying with the idea of walking out before I even arrived there as I knew the Night You Didn't Come that when I woke in the morning, we were going in.  But something happened to you, something that didn't need to, and it snapped me right out of my post-birth daze.  I gathered my wits, played firm nicey-nice with the staff, and got us the hell out of there.

Best. Decision. Ever.

(And I'll tell you what that event was in your Birth Story which I am clearly going to have to break into chunks like these smaller posts or I'll never get it out for you.  You are a TIME-SUCKER and I can't write long pieces right now.  I've got to spit out whatever I need to say in under seven minutes.)

The "Low" points were--

-weeks seven through 14.  I've never felt worse, never been lower.  I still have a hard time taking myself back there mentally.  It really sucked, that whole business of you and I learning how to live together in harmony.  I was glad that you were clearly doing so great but you truly stole my life for awhile.

-the hormonal fluctuations--I'm incredibly sensitive to hormone changes in general so pregnancy is a wallop of a dose of crazy for me.  Especially during that early period.  The crying (sobbing), the sensitivity (sobbing), the annoyance (bitching, then sobbing)...it was not the easiest of times.

-the beginning of your birth--I'm almost finished with this part of your Birth Story but it's hard  to go back to once I stop for awhile.  But what started as something so easy with my water breaking turned into a long wait of nothing, and then a something but not THE something and then...a plan change.
Believe me when I say that I did NOT want to be the homebirther heading into the hospital.  I was dreading it something fierce pre-labor (once my contractions began the day of your birth, nothing mattered to me because they were so awful, I could only think of making them stop and where that happened, I didn't care by then).

-the middle of your birth--I remember lying on the bed in the delivery room, with tons of people swirling around, suffering through my contractions, having them strap on my oxygen mask, the i.v., the internal monitors for both me and you, the horrible woman assigned to my delivery...and I thought "I honestly can not believe this shit is happening to me right now.  This is supposed to be my easiest labor and delivery, what with this being my fifth.  And it's f*cking horrible.  F*cking HORRIBLE."
Because it was.

But then it all changed the second you were in my arms.
Of course it did.
None of that mattered any more and it's not something I dwell on now.
I don't lament over your birth not being what I "wanted."
It was what it was, you know?
And by taking you home, I fixed it for me and for you and for the rest of our family.

My battery is low and so is your patience :)

Here's what's new with you at week seven:

You have amazing neck control and you've actually rolled over from your side to your belly. It was an accident and you were SUPER pissed when you did it so I'm not really counting that ;)

You are starting to hate your car seat.  Oh, the screams.
And my voice only seems to infuriate you further because you can hear me but not have me.
 I nearly drive off the road in Mommy Horror.

You're starting to learn to fall asleep on your own a bit.  I can feed you and sometimes just lay you down beside me and you'll drift off. 
You either drift off or you go BANANAS.

I know you're getting bigger because we're all rougher with you.
The kisses and snuggles are definitely less delicate.
We eat you up, unapologetically.

Ah, duty calls...

Love,
Mama

You--Six Weeks, Three Days

You are the happiest in the mornings.
Right now you're jippin' me an hour of sleep at night, moving back from a five/six hour stretch to a four/five hour one.
I had been waking to nurse you around 6:00-6:30 in the morning and then again around 9ish.
But suddenly, I'm cruising through Blogland in the late 4:00am hour while you re-fuel.

You're supurb at just going right back to sleep, thank goodness.
And you'll wake again around 7ish to feed, again going right back to snoozing, sleeping in a bit in the REAL morning (the one where I don't feel like Queen of the Night still), allowing me to get up and get some things done before you "officially" wake up.

And when you do, when you're up and I open the drapes and start cooing at you, changing your clothes and kissing you with all the passion of the baby addict that I am, you start BEAMING at me.
I live for it and spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to get "just one more" before actually moving on and doing something with my day.

You're learning to sleep in bed alone which is absolutely terrific for both of us.
We're back to school these days so I really need you in a place where you can take good, solid naps and not be woken by the thundering antics of the Littles.
Plus, I'm a better mommy to the others when you're sleeping upstairs because I am not constantly hissing, "SHHHHHHHHHHH!" at them every 3.5 seconds.

Tuesday was the first day that I really stuck you up there without any warm body next to you for a quick snuggle.
You're super happy to sleep while being held and I had been doing that but now I'm more needed around the house in general and you need peace.
It didn't go well at first.
I'd nurse you and you'd fall asleep.  And then I'd take you up, lay you down...and come back to get your wailing self four minutes later.
You'd hang for a bit, nurse again, fall asleep again, be whisked off to bed again....and wake up again.
After a few hours of this, you finally gave up and slept for HOURS.
And then I think you realized that it wasn't so bad without me up there because we haven't had any other problems all week long and it's been great for both of us!

You're outgrowing your newborn clothes and diapers.
We've moved on to the Stage Ones for your wee unders and I'm hunting for some cloth ones to try.
I didn't want to order any until you arrived and I'm glad I didn't because I would have ordered for the bigger bum I thought I was getting.
Yours is waaaaay cute and tiny.
Your little bottom is just the sweetest thing ever.
I forgot they came that small!
(Am rather used to Creux's daddy-sized tushie.  It's big and squishy and I love that one too but yours is a very nice departure, I have to say.)

You chuckled in your sleep the other day.
I froze in place after slapping my hand over my mouth in sheer giddy excitement.
THAT was probably a reflex of yours because I can't imagine what you would find humorous enough to giggle without me near killing myself to charm you so thoroughly that you do it for me specificially.
But it was a-dor-able nonetheless and I know I said it before but I really can't wait for your giggles.

Since you're still sleeping, I need to go do some school with your brothers.
I'd much prefer to climb back into bed where you are (though you must  be looking for me in your sleep because you've sucked up the spot I previously had) but it's not the cards for me anymore.

You though, you enjoy every minute of your sweet nap.
I'll see you soon.

Love,
Mama

Six Weeks

Time is flying.
Definitely faster than even when I was pregnant and I really felt like that flew.

I was thinking earlier today...that so far, five kids is no harder than four.
I wonder if that statment will change in the future?  
Surely I feel the workload that accompanies five children but sanity-wise, you've barely made a blip on my register.

I can absolutely chalk some of that sentiment up to you just being so darn easy--so long as I'm willing to feed you on-demand, you are an angel.
But I have to give Creux some credit here and I don't know what happened but you arrived and he pulled his lunatic self together in a big way.
He's really not even a lunatic anymore.
OR my favorite little monster.
He's really sort of just a sweet little boy with an ornery streak.
Honestly, he's always been that but I wouldn't have said he just had a streak of ornery.
I would have said he had a condition of ornery.
Very large difference measured in crazy right there :)


I met a mom the other day at the orthodontist's office--she was the receptionist there.
Actually, I'd met her back when I was still pregnant with you and I remembered her because she was pregnant too and due just a week before me.
She was back to work already and her baby was six weeks old.
Your age.

She came out from behind the desk and into the waiting room to see you.
How I remembered her was that she said, "My baby is just a little older than yours."
And it clicked for me.
Oh my goodness.
This woman, who is oogling my baby, must miss hers so much.

In that moment, I hugged you tighter.
I could not, for one single second, imagine separating from you right now.
I know some mamas need to just to make ends meet but thank God that isn't me.
Even in our darkest days, back when we were young college kids, I didn't work away from you babies.
I couldn't have borne the horrific tearing of my heart that would have occurred had I done it.
We just got real good and cozy with poor is all that happened.
I would have sacrificed anything and still would to keep you babies close.

Because this is what I know:
At six weeks, regardless of how I would feel-- and I would feel awful--I know that you would miss me.
You would cry, not for just anyone, but for ME.
We have a way together, an established rhythm and pattern, and I know without a single doubt that I can offer you comfort unlike anyone else on this planet.
I know you would look for me and listen for the sound of my voice.
You do already.
I couldn't go two hours away from you; I have absolutely no desire to do that, not even for "fun."
Even when you nap long, I crave you.
Sure, I enjoy the first hour or so but soon I start yearning for the closeness of your small body, the sweet little smiles you toss my way, your tiny head bobbing around on my shoulder, the rooting you do on my arm--I miss every bit.

I know lots of mamas that work and while I think every person needs to follow their own path in life, mine does not lead, not in any direction, to a long-term separation from my children on a daily basis.
My mom worked every day and I missed her so much and I hated my situation.
I was at daycare from morning until evening, 12 months a year, for all of my growing years.
I vowed that things would be different for my kids and I've stuck to that--with tremendous support and hard work from your daddy.

My heart just sort of ached for this woman and her baby because while I can grasp that some mamas like to work and get a sort of fulfillment from their careers, I can't imagine that this sentiment would come at just six weeks.

I'm just so grateful to be home with you.
My days are mine, each and every one, to do what I want with them.
If we feel like heading to the park, we go.
If we feel like swimming with friends, we go.
If we feel like dumping everything and staying in bed all day, we do.
And no matter what, we're together.
It makes my soul happy.

Needing to wrap--you say my free time quota is full for the day.
Good grief, you've got some healthy lungs, child.
I'm not sure anyone has ever screamed at me before with such enthusiam!

Happy 6 Weeks!

Love,
Mama

Five Weeks, Five Days

BED HOG!
You, tiny little you, are a massive mattress piggy.
Every night I find myself literally hugging the edge of the bed.
And what's worse, unlike the older kids, who I could shove right over without a second thought on the matter, YOU I would have to put back to sleep so I don't dare touch you.
Ohhhh, but I want to.

And if you keep this business up, missy, I'm going to commission your daddy to build you your OWN nest.
(By commission, I mean "order.")

We sleep mostly side by side now, turned toward each other.
You are a side sleeper, besides being a migrator.
You just prefer tilting a bit to me and I do the same to you--it's just very cozy.

Although...I wake every night with some part of my upper body fast asleep.
Meaning, it feels dead because I've wrapped it over you or next to you or above you or under my own body when you steal all of the extra bed space and I'm left with so little that I have to become smaller just to stay IN the bed.
I am so still when I sleep with you that I never move.
I think maybe that's just part of co-sleeping--the instinctive mama part.
People always say, "How do you know you won't roll over on her?"
Because I know.
Because even in my sleep, I'm totally aware of you.

It's important to say, and maybe I've already said it, but I don't necessarily feel the same way about your daddy.
He sleeps differently--too hard and too aggressively.
I've noticed that IF I do move, I take great care to not even ruffle the sheets.
Whereas he will just haul himself up, flip over, and come crashing back down like there's no one else around.
It's maddening.
And I will hiss at him, "BE CAREFUL!  If you wake her, I swear you are taking her."

Not that I don't want you, dear.
But I work hard to get your little heiney to sleep at night and I don't think he often realizes HOW hard I work at it because he's usually snoring :)

This is also on my mind to make sure to tell you because I'm anxious to see what happens for sure but...
Darling, you've had the WORST baby hair EVER around here.
I didn't quite know what was going on at first but it would just literally stand on end, sticking straight up in the air.
But that was because it wasn't quite long enough to CURL yet!

All of this new hair you have is coming in as super, super curly--are you going to have wild ringlets???
Greer has naturally curly hair as well which is just BEYOND strange to me because mine has always been so poker straight, especially as a young girl.
But Greer had curls when she was tiny and they sort of went away for a bit, re-emerging now as beautiful waves on top and tight little ringlets underneath.
I think you're going to be the same way but curlier!

Your eyes are blue FOR SURE.
I know "they say" that eye color takes six months to fully develop but it's quite obvious that you have those Martin blues, just like three of your other siblings!

And you're growing like a weed.
I think you're in the midst of a really big growth spurt right now.
You're appetite has picked up, you've definitely called up more milk reserves, and when you sit up, you have the beginning of chubby cheeks.
I use that term lightly because you will probably never have what most people would consider any bit of baby chubbiness but for YOU, (and me and Chas and Greer) it's about the best you're going to get.
(Though  I do hope you'll grow a bit of cellulite.  I LOVE baby fat.  Thighs and tushies are my WAY fave.)

Love you, love you.

Mama

You--Five Weeks, Four Days

Now that you're all settled in here and have firmly entrenched yourself into our hearts (and my bed), this is who you are to us:

Luxe
Luxie
Luxilicious
Luxer
Luxie Laaaady (this is sung)
Luxie Baby
Luxie Loo
Luxerella

I had no idea when chooing your name that it would have so many wonderful variants!

You're also known as:

"Hey, gorg."
"Sweet baby girl."
"You. Are . The. Cutest. Baby, EV-ER!"
"Sister Sledge" (thanks lynnie)
"Baby Lover"
"Hey, Love"
"Mama's Girl"

It's safe to say that you're the most nickname-able baby we've had so far.

Did you notice that "so far?" :)

Must run.
You've vomited precious breastmilk all over yourself and your dad is going to have a conniption if I don't get us to the bank ASAP.
You kids are pricy!

Love,
Mama
(who loves you and all your fantastic names)

You--Five Weeks

We had a marathon show-down last night with you pretty much refusing to sleep from about 6:00pm until 1:00am.
I think you just became overly tired and once you were there, you couldn't settle.
I tried and tried to get you to sleep and would be successful but once I put you down on your own, that was it for you...and we'd start all over again.

The reason I can write this and am not sobbing away is because it didn't happen over-night.
I stuck it out all evening long, even rather happily at the end as I could see you fading away finally, and chuckled, "Booooy, are we gonna sleep tonight!"
(And we did--right on through til dawn.  You rock, sister.)

You're winning the house over with your sweet grins.
Everyone thinks they're special, just for them, but secretly I know you're just daydreaming about me ;)
Chas keeps saying how much he's looking forward to your soon-coming laughs.
"That's my very favorite stage!" he said with a huge smile.
Mine, too.

I had forgotten how crowd-stopping a new baby could be but you've reminded me.
People just LOVE babies and everywhere we go, there are ooglers and baby lovers.
It's been said that infants are chick magnets and I'd have to agree.
Every time I step away from your daddy, he's swarmed by ladies doused in perfume.
(I can't stand the smell of another woman on my baby.  Even someone I know and love, like Memaw.  It masks your sweet baby smell and I need that.  I CRAVE that.)

And I also had forgotten how uncomfortable public nursing makes other men.
Our waiter the other day, a young guy, nearly threw my plate at me from across the table once he realized that you were suctioned to my chest.
He couldn't see anything but just knowing what was going on seemed to make him go all hyper-weird on me.
Deal with it boys, is what I have to say.
The boobs are back. 

We've been out all day, over at Jenny's and once again you proved what a SuperBaby you are!
I'm not used to this being so dang easy--I was really thinking I'd be so wild from trying to get through the day that I'd missing chunks of hair by now.

Speaking of that...I will be losing chunks of hair soon.
My body is slowly but surely returning to The Old Me state and while this happens there are all sorts of side effects.

My hair, which will begin to fall out in the next few months from hormonal insanity, is suddenly curlyish.
This might not seem unusual unless you know me and know that my hair is typically so straight, I can't even curl it when I want to.

This isn't the first time it's happened-- it now seems to be a regular Weird Moment in terms of my postpartumness.
With Creux (but Creux only) my shoe size changed permanently, going from a six and a half, which I'd worn since middle school, to a seven.
I always thought that was a old wives tale but nope.
And I've got the sevens to prove it!

The line on my belly is starting to fade and as it does, I start to miss being pregnant a little.
I know that sounds crazy as I was so very desperate to be done there at the end but it sort of tugs at my heart to watch these little pieces of our "past" together evaporate.

I'm losing about a pound a week or so which is good.
Right there after I had you, I dropped nearly ten pounds in fluid (GOOD GRIEF!) plus all of your weight but I still have a nice little chunk to go.
It's important that I don't lose too much too fast as my appetite has gone bye-bye but for health reasons, I need to make sure I'm getting enough calories and not short-changing either of us.
I don't know what it is but I am simply ravenous while pregnant and literally as soon as I deliver, it's like my appetite goes with it.
All that being said, I'm rather excited to see my skinny jeans again and though it will be awhile, it will be a nice little heartfelt reunion :)

You're five weeks old today.
You are the tiniest little light of my life.
I can't imagine even a day without you in my arms.

I love you so very, very much.

Love,
Mama

You--Four Weeks, Six Days

I went shopping for you the other day--my first time out buying things for "you" and not "mystery baby you."
I remember with Greer thinking...wait, what's my girl style? 
I mean, what do I like baby girls in?
I'd just been in boy mode for eight years and whenever I shopped for friends who had baby girls, I always bought gorgeously impractical dresses.
But everyday wear?
I had no idea.

I figured things out quick but for you, I'm a bit less In The Pink Box.
EVERYTHING Greer wore was pink.
And pretty girly.

But we're not really a super girly family, I've come to realize.
Even your names aren't terribly girly.
Memaw dropped a few comments here and there pre-your birth-- "Pick a pretty name," she'd say.
She thought you were a girl all along.
And she said this twice that I can remember (though it was probably more--I am just really super good at tuning her out.  Don't grow up and do this to me, however.  Besides, I'm difficult to ignore.  I really am.) because she likes names like "Alexandra" and "Adrianna"...those types of names.
I started liking your name right around this time (which is also a boy name, by the way) and would just snicker to myself.
I know my style.  Memaw, not so much.

Anyway, I found this shirt that I would NEVER have gotten for Greer back when she was a babe because it's less feminine and more hip.
It's a play on "AC/DC", the rock band.
But the shirt says "AB/CD" and has a guitar on the front.
I thought it was so cute!
But it's did sort of occur to me that though you and Greer look a lot alike, already you're parented differently.
My guess is that you'll be a bit more rough and tumble because we'll be more open to that for you.
With her, I was so desperate for some girl stuff and girl moments and pink, pink, pink, and to finally have a daughter that it took me some time to really let her be her.
But now we know her.
She's girly with grit.
And I think that's a beautiful combination.
Whoever you are, whatever combination you choose, I know I'll say the same thing.

It's morning here now and we just came downstairs, me and you.
We usually are the last two out of bed (not counting Chas who is in full-on teen mode these days) and we met Creux in the hallway.
He was going on and on about wanting his clothes and someone waiting for him before going outside and he was absolutely screaming his words at top Creux volume which is positively ear-shattering.
And I spoke softly to him, trying to bring him down 875 notches without harping on him, and when I looked at you, cradled in my arms, you were smiling up at me.

One of the very best things in the whole wide world is to be able to make someone beam from (tiny, adorable) ear to (tiny, adorable) ear just from the sound of your voice.

Thanks for starting my day off so sweetly.

Love,
Mama

You--Four Weeks, Five Days

This morning at breakfast (mine--you had like three between the hours of 5am and 10) I noticed  that you seemed so babyish.
Unlike so "newbornish."
You're changing literally every day and while I delight in all the subtle differences, I still yearn for that delicious bit of super new you.

And the truth is that even in one short month, you're not super new anymore.
We have a "way" together these days, patterns that are already familiar and expected.
I don't stare at you in curious awe like I did just a few weeks back; now I stare in order to catalogue and appreciate the new differences.
I was looking at your newborn photos the other day and then looking at you and thinking...damn, this goes so fast.

But you are simply a JOY!
I know I say this in every post but you're just so stinkin' good!
You've been on two "dates" so far--one to lunch where I nursed you the whole time and you slept and then a dinner where you slept in your carseat.
Getting out and around is not nearly as difficult as I had anticipated and I think most of that is due to your easy-going personality.
The rest is a combination of the "it is what it is" attitude that I have adopted where I expect EVERYTHING to be an ordeal and when it isn't, I'm pleasantly surprised and also the fact that Creux has really pulled his crazy insane self together and no longer makes me want to throw a bag in the car and drive non-stop to Arizona without looking back.

You've had a few rough nights and I wonder if we're in the midst of another growth spurt?
Earlier this week, I nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed you (that's FIVE nursings) in a three hour long marathon and finally got you to sleep but then you just snapped awake beside me.
And wanted to nurse.
I couldn't do it.
And I knew you weren't hungry--I was wondering at that point if you had a tummyache from OVER-eating.
I passed you off to Daddy, thinking if he just paced with you a bit that you'd fall asleep and all would be well.

I woke two hours later wondering where you two were.
I found you snuggled on the couch together, fast asleep.
It wasn't until the morning that he told me that you'd screamed for an hour and in desperation he finally went to the car where he knew there was an infant paci from the hospital (why did we have this?) and gave you that.
He said you gagged and spit it out repeatedly but finally realized you could suck it and that was all you needed to do.
I felt terrible about that.
I could have nursed you again but I was tired and touched out and just plain old didn't want to.
We don't do pacis--we do mama.
And that won't happen again.
I know sometimes you need to suck for comfort and I don't want to pass you off to a pacifier.
I just don't.

****I started this post 24 hours ago when I thought I could sneak 15 minutes or so alone.
And I can't.
I just can't.
Someone always interrupts me, needs me, wants me, just needs to SEE me, just needs to HEAR me, just wants to know WHAT AM I DOING IN THERE?
(The only place that I can get even a scrap of privacy is in the bathroom.  So I take my Netbook and sit on the rug and write to you.  It's not ideal and it's NOT comfortable and obviously it doesn't even work half the time.)

So, for the time being, I'm changing the format of this blog for you.
My posts will be shorter and more frequent.
I might not be able to find 15 minutes but I can find 5!

(Can't I?  Can't I find five?  Oh please let me find five minutes of pure quiet in this house where I can think private thoughts and write private words.  If I have to stick this request on my Christmas Wish List in order to get it, I'm moving out.)

Four Weeks

I don't have long because I can hear you yowling downstairs.
I'm locked in my bathroom where no one can find me.
The extremes I go to just to find a bit of quiet around here...(and let me just say that this floor is not cushy.)

A whole month you've been around.
A MONTH!
Looking back at this day a month ago, we were just snuggled into bed together--our first night.
I remember it so clearly, remember constantly looking over at you, and feeling so lucky.
Everything had worked out in the end and boy, am I EVER so glad we walked out of that hospital and into our nest.
I'll admit it was slightly unsettling, maybe because even I've never known anyone to just...leave...a hospital before (and I faced a firing squad of white coats too AND a super fun phone call from the neonatalogist--all hell-bent on beating it in to me just how stupid and crazy they thought I was) but...it was the right thing to do for us.

Already you are so different to me, so much less this new bundle of flesh and now just more my baby.
My daughter.
You smile every day.
I can already hear the giggles that will soon come, the deep baby belly laughs that crack me up and still bring tears to my eyes because they're just so damn sweet.
As are you.
SO sweet.

You...
have twice slept from 1:00-7:00am
are achingly adorable in your bathtub--like a little wet kitten
suddenly have curls galore at the back bottom of your hair
are now outside my door mewling for me
still like to be swaddled
sometimes sleep alone
are getting louder
tolerate the swing--and your siblings
are a two-boob girl these days, no more onesies
now have tears
are killing me with your cries so I must go.

Love,
Mama

P.S...this is pretty much indicative of the time I have "free" in the evenings.
I don't.
You are a cluster feeder and need/want me constantly during these pre-nighttime hours.
Despite hogging any "me time" that was once available to me, I still love you, you little Time-Sucker :)

You--Three Weeks, Four Days

You're laying beside me in bed and you're supposed to be sleeping but you're not.
You were but then I put you down and surprise, surprise--you're now wide awake.

Despite this minor setback, you're doing much better sleeping alone, at least today you were.
I managed to sneak away TWICE--once this morning and once this afternoon and the house is much better  for it, let me tell you.

Things are starting to feel...normal now.
I'm up more and able to rejoin my family and you seem to be settling into a routine of sorts.
Or at least you seem less unpredictable to me.
I'm starting to think about things other than finding sleep so I know we're making terrific progress!
(Though I must say, you are a terrific sleeper.  Words can not even describe how wonderful it is to not be up endlessly at night.  You usually go down for the night around midnight and wake some time between 4 and 5am.  Then you're up eating for about 45 minutes and down for another two to three hours.  I'm so sleep deprived from our pregnancy and just the whole new baby bit that I'm still dragging some times but it could be so, so, SO much worse.  Thank you, Chill Baby.)

You're a  whopping seven pounds and two ounces these days!
It's always such a proud feeling when you babies take off and start growing so healthy and strong on MY milk.
The milk I SLAVE over.
Only kidding--really, you're doing me a favor as all that milk making burns off all those stupid ice cream runs you wanted throughout the WHOLE pregnancy.

I took you in to meet our baby doc yesterday because you'd developed a sniffle and it freaked me out.
I'm not a freaker-outer, mind you.
But you're so tiny and I love you so much that you're sudden clogged nose (which made it hard for you to breath) about drove me insane with worry.
I needed to take you in anyway and get the "yeah, she's perfect" from Dr. Carine (which we got) so it worked out.
And in the end, you just had a stuffy nose.
No exotic baby disease like I had imagined.

Like your brother, you will not be receiving any of the routine vaccinations so I currently have no plans to return with you; in fact, I hope that we do not see Dr. Carine for a long time.
We only head in these days if something is bothering someone--if one of you all gets sick or needs something.
Since we don't follow the vax schedule (which is partly why babies are seen so frequently at the beginning) and since I really don't have many questions (which is the other reason why babies are seen so frequently at the beginning) we just roll on along!

You're smiling a lot all of sudden!
You've been smiling all along actually, from right there at the beginning to now though these smiles definitely seem more focused and deliberate.
You'll listen really closely and carefully to who ever is talking to you and then...you'll slowly start to smile until it's a full-on beam.
It's a brief thing but sometimes you'll smile more than once in a "conversation."
The reaction you get from family members is profound adoration.
We're sick with love over here, every one of us.

I think you might be a blondie which might sound surprising considering you have almost a full head of brown hair right now.
But the new stuff growing in is so light and blond and so are your teeny tiny eyelashes.
I'm excited to see who you will grow into.

Creux sings to you every day.
My favorite is "Frinkle, Frinkle, Wit-tle Star."
And "Mary Had A Wit-tle Wamb" which he just repeats over and over again endlessly.
(Along with the line, "And everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went."  We never learn where exactly Mary goes but she goes and goes and goes, I can say that much.)

You love your baths--Daddy gives them to you as he's done all of your siblings.
Mama doesn't interfere with bath time.
I've always loved that he has something special that he does with you kids all on his own.
He just brings you to me when you're done, all clean and snug and ready for a final nighttime nursing.

You're just a good, good fit with this family and I know I say it a lot but you're such an easy little one.
My plate is a full one and it's not enough to just "get along" here at home.
There are balls I can drop in my life but being a good mama isn't one of them and the fact that you are so "chill" makes my very big job a whole lot easier.

I'm still not sure how I'll do it all but I'm optimistic that we'll get it figured out.
(We have to, right?)
I'm hoping that by the time we add in school and soccer and dance and preschool and co-op and all the other misc. stuff that we do as a family that we'll be in a really good place together.
We've got about a month to go.

But I'm not rushing it along--not at all.
I'm still trying to steal some hours with you in the nest here and there through the day.
We're both really lucky to have had the kind of help that we've had over the last three weeks (because I can honestly say that neither Greer nor Creux had the kind of time with me at the beginning that you've had) and maybe even MORE lucky that there's a super big brother in the house who can kind of hold down the fort so we can snuggle a bit longer or nap together or so that later, when I start running crazy all over the city shuffling your sibs here and there, you can stay back and nap if my errand is short.  
You will not grow up in the car the same way that Greer and Creux have and that makes me really happy.

I'm still trying to write "The Night You Weren't Born" which precedes "The Day You Were" but I have NO time for the kind of writing required for such an important post.  (Nor do I seem to have the brain power needed to construct grammatically correct sentences.)

I'll get it up.  It's just going to take me awhile.

In the time it's taken me to write this (an hour now as I had to stop and settle you because you got tired of staring at the ceiling fan finally and then I put the Littles to bed) you're back to sleep, compliments of Daddy's hallway pacing.

I can't wait to climb in next to you, my sweet little barnacle.
Be there soon.

Love,
Mama

You--Three Weeks

You're sleeping on the couch, snuggled up for the moment with your daddy, who has fallen asleep there for the time being.
I came upstairs only to get myself ready for bed while you were peaceful but then decided to take a minute and update this for you.

You'll be three weeks old in the morning.
And every week, you're different

I mentioned to daddy earlier this week that we no longer cap you with those sweet little newborn hats.
That was one of my favorite things about your first few days.
Those little caps absolutely scream Fresh Baby and so I find them to be sorely missing in our accessories department suddenly.

You're fast growing out of all of the muted-colored sleeping gowns that I bought especially for you.
Your tiny feet are starting to dangle out of the bottom.

That horrid pattern of "good night, heinous night" left when I asked that it leave.
Thank you for that.
You're sleeping magnificently at night, giving me a good three to four hour stretch and though I'm still sacked in the morning, it's the best I can hope for with you being so small still.
You spend the whole late evening, from about 9:00pm until midnight cluster feeding, with me nursing every hour or so, until we're both ready for bed. 
Frankly, this is my least favorite round of nursing but I do enjoy the time spent alone in bed with you and this is your way of gearing up for the nighttime stretch of slumber so I really can't complain.

My only real complaint is that you're a light sleeper and are very easily awoken.
We have to be really, really quiet in our bedroom when you're snoozing there otherwise you'll wake up and guess who you want DESPERATELY when you do?

A few times you've caught your thumb, seemingly by accident and the way you would suck it seemed so awkward.  You'd manage to get the thumb in your mouth but you'd keep the rest of your hand wide open.  Tonight though, you sucked it for real and soothed yourself to sleep while Lynn held you. 
I was SWOONING ridiculously, I just thought you were so sweet and cute and it was perhaps the most precious thing any of our babies has ever done.
We've never had a thumb sucker before and while I dread dealing with it later if it sticks as a habit, I simply find it adorable right now.
And it's made me wonder if maybe you and your thumb had met before, possibly in the womb?

Speaking of that, I'm quite certain that you've showed me your preferred womb position and it's also the most awkward looking thing!  I went to change your diaper the other day and you folded yourself up so comfortably but it was wild to see because it just looked so uncomfortable.  You were laying on your back and you twisted your legs up Indian-style but with your feet up high on your knees.  It just seemed like second nature to you and you did it so quickly that I thought...I bet that's how you spent your time inside me.

I love sleeping with you.
I had thought that maybe we'd buy one of those pack-and-play type cribs that allow co-sleeping by attaching to the bed but I can't do it.
I don't want to sleep beside you, I want to sleep with you.
You and I snuggle all night long.
You're either sleeping on my tummy or I lay you down next to me and we curl up together.  You'll naturally turn in my direction and I'll literally wrap my body around yours, cupping you. 
We sleep head to head, chest to chest.
It's...intoxicating to me. 
I feel your sweet little breath on my face and the warmth of your tiny body and I just am overcome with love for you and know for certain that neither of us are ready or wanting any nighttime separation right now.

You are a wonderous baby, for sure my Chill Gal, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for your easy-going disposition. 
You only yowl when hungry or tired and both of those things are very easily resolved.
You have quite a temper however and it's rather amusing to me when you really get going, while I'm changing your diaper or your clothes and you're simply wanting a feeding, and you get so pissed that you turn this wicked purple color and you are screaming so loud and with such gusto that your tiny little tongue is just curled up right inside the perfect "o" of your mouth.
It makes me laugh and then I can't help but smother your little pissed-off self with kisses.

I'm going to get ready for bed and then snatch you off the couch and whisk you off to bed with me.
I can't wait to snuggle with you.

Love,
Mama

You--Two Weeks

Two weeks!
Already? And yet...is that all?
It feels like you've been here for ages on one hand and on another, it's been about a minute.

You're sleeping peacefully now which is how I've managed to sneak down to the computer without you screeching for me to come back.

You're a little bit of a mama-addict currently.
All Mama, All The Time.
It's endearing yet maddening.
I need to do things like brush my teeth and gee, I don't know...eat.
Your mama radar is off the chain, child, as you seem to sense the minute I leave your side.
Most times.
But this time, I got away!  :)

Today has been my first day home alone all day long with the five of you.
It's been a juggling act, to put it lightly, but I'm alive and so are you and your siblings so the day is chalked up as a success in the end.
Is it sad that my standards are at that point?
Reality, baby.

Let me tell you about you...

You have this torturous sleep pattern right now--good night, heinous night, good night, heinous night.
I'm not sure what that is all about but I hate it A LOT and would like to eliminate the "heinous night" from the routine ASAP.

You no longer make a total mess of us when eating.  My milk letdown is no match for you now--you have conquered Mt. McBooby.  I was drowning you for awhile and you'd just give up and look at me while milk sprayed all over the both of us but not any more.  You're a milk champ, not a chump.  And I no longer have to change my clothes after every feeding.

Your favorite way to sleep is on my tummy and I have to admit that I love it, too.
It makes me think that it reminds you of "Home" because you are so peaceful there against my warm body, listening to my heart beating and feeling me breathing.
I'll nurse you until you fall asleep and let go and then slide you down to my belly and you just sigh and snuggle into me.
I hold you all night long.
It's the most fantastic of things in my life right now.

You have your first diaper rash and it's not my fault.
You poop like ALL the time; I can't keep up with you!
I'm sorry about the rash--we're working on it.

You're also really flaky these days; I noticed it this morning.
Your feet were peeling over the weekend but today it's on your tiny belly.
Are you molting???
I'll warm some olive oil tonight and give you a massage.
You're two weeks old--you deserve it.

You're awake much more than just a week ago but are still in that newborny coma state.
Part of me wishes I'd have used the time to get done some of the things that I need to get done.
But I know I've used the time in the best way possible.
I want you to know that for these past two weeks, I have tried to devote every minute to you that I could, pulling on Emily and Daddy to run the house and everyone else.
I won't be able to do this much longer; in fact, the amount of time we've nested today has been incomparable to the amount in a "normal" day since you've been born.
But it's been important to me to give you as much of me as I could here in the beginning.
You're going to have to learn to share and you're going to have to learn it quick but I have loved every minute of our "babymoon" together.
I will cherish those days and that's not something I'm just writing because it sounds good.
I will truly cherish the time we spent up there together in near solitude--it was really special to me.

I've logged incountable hours staring at you, memorizing your every bit, your every tiny piece.
You have your Daddy's ears--all you kids do.
I think you will have blue eyes as well.
I was hoping for my greens but I think he's trumped me again.
They'll be beautiful no matter what color they are.

Though you have a full head of dark hair, there are bits of blond coming in.
Everyone but Chas has been born with dark hair, only to have it fall out and return very light in color.
Your hair is jacked, sweet girl.
Chas says it "looks like Dad's but with a mullet."
I wanted to trim you straight away after that comment but I've let your cute little Daddy Mullet be for now.
You and I suffer from Bed Head Syndrome though I have to say that yours is WAY worse than mine. 
We wake up in the morning and I say, "Good morning, sweet girl...YIKES, your hair is a disaster!"

You have mere wisps of eyebrows and eensy weensy eyelashes.
I think they are the most adorable things I've ever seen.

You are identical, and I mean identical, to your sister as an infant.
I will not be able to tell your baby photos apart in years to come.

I'm loving having a baby in the house again.
I do miss some of my "available" time where I don't have a wee barnacle attached to me constantly but I wouldn't trade a second of it for the world.
I love you so much already--it's like you've been mine all along.

Happy Two Weeks!

Love,
Mama

You--One Week, 2 Days

I can't write to you if you don't let me go at some point in the day.
Do you want these entries or not, sister?

Playing catch-up here because I'm also working on your Birth Story and it's taking me AGES because every time I sit down to write, you call me back upstairs to feed!

You...
are sleeping magnificently at night--5-6 hour stretches
are a hellbeast during the day because you're starved from the night
have lost your umbilical cord stump
just had your first "big girl" bath
are currently screaming for me
AGAIN!

You...
might be a thumb-sucker
had a really, really bad hair day today
have a clogged tear duct in your right eye
are a pooping machine
and I snuggled today most deliciously--curled right up into each other
have gone quiet for the last minute and now I'm wondering if you've fallen asleep or have accidentally smothered yourself.

You...
seem like my Chill Baby, despite your wicked little temper
(Daddy says you have my coping skills and I'd have to agree.)
are screaming again.

Sigh.

Am just one big boob to you, aren't I?

Love,
Mama
(who would write more but you now sound really very serious about being picked up IMMEDIATELY)

You--Day Six

Okay, I'm starting to clue-in.
It has nothing to do with coffee and everything to do with stipulations.
And I think it goes a little something like this:

If no one is in the bed, or if just one of us is there, you can and will happily sleep on your own.
It also doesn't hurt that the sun is shining bright when means it isn't bedtime.
But...if both Mama and Daddy are in that bed and it is dark meaning we should ALL be happily sleeping, then someone is holding your Diva tush, yes?
Because if not, no one is sleeping.

Am I right?
Thank God I think I figured that out because I really miss my evening coffees.

Last night was a huge improvement over the last two.
I've learned NOT to wake you before I go to bed, even though logic tells me, too so I can "fill you up" before turning in myself.
But it waaaaaay backfires.
Right now, if I just let you sleep peacefully, I can maybe squeak in an hour or two before you wake on your own.
Unfortunately for me, this hour or two has typically been the best sleep I've had over the course of the week but last night was redeeming!

I don't know how much I slept in chunks but I'm guessing I got in a good two hour one and MAYBE a three hour at some point in the dawn time period.
All I know is that I feel human today.
I'm happy.
I'm showered and sort of dressed.
(I was fully dressed but, of course, you needed fed and I'm still sweating like a 45 year-old fat man so I whipped my shirt off but the good news is: MY ANKLES ARE BACK!!!!  I sweated off my cankles!  HURRAY!!)

We're going to attempt errands today.
Again.
There was a rather botched try yesterday as I ended up venturing out on my own with you to the baby store, only to arrive and feel not only like you are WAY too tiny to be out in public (you are SO SMALL!) but then to also realize that you worked up a hunger on the way from our house to the store.
AND I forgot my checking card.
So we headed back out to the car, nursed in the parking lot, and then headed home, empty-handed and exhausted.

Do you know what you've done twice now?
Smiled at me!
Yesterday when I went to take you out of your car seat, you were awake and I started cooing at you, just talking to you and you turned to me and listened...and then broke into a huge gumless grin.
I almost collapsed in the parking lot, so over-come with new mommy loooooove for you.
It was fleeting but it was there.
I do not care what baby books say, and they do say that you are unable to smile for awhile yet and that if you do, it's because you're dealing with very ungirly bodily functions, which is a load of crap if you ask me.
You smiled.
If other babies can't do it, that's their problem.
MY baby is clearly a Happiness Genius.

You're getting your PKU test today.
There's a lady coming over this afternoon to stick you.
It won't be so bad, I promise.
But all of this has been really nice for us--we've had two exams AND now a PKU test to be done and we haven't had to go anywhere!
You and I will be popping by the pediatrician at some point in the coming weeks but since we're not routinely vaccinating you, there's no rush.
We'll have several more exams with the midwives at 2, 4 and 6 weeks post-partum so we're keeping tabs on you, making sure you're growing healthy and strong.
(You are.  Already.  Sniff.)

As for me, like I said, sweating crazy, cankles have gone bye-bye, every day I feel a bit more like my old self.
Dressing sucks, as maternity clothes (tops) are way too big now and non-maternity stuff is almost too small.
You and I both are wearing like the same six things in rotation because we have "fitting issues", we do.
I changed my clothes like nine times yesterday just to go to the store.
("Honey, you just had a baby six days ago," Daddy said, watching me try and try and try and discard, discard, discard nine different shirts.
"FIVE!" I snapped.  He doesn't need to be adding my days wrong.  I just might look a little better on day six than I would on day five :))
Anyway, you'll grow and I'll shrink and we should both look smashing by November.

Off to discover why this house is so amazingly quiet...

Love,
Mama

You--Day Five

Last night started so well!  I had such high hopes for a good night's sleep.
We kept you up.
I fed you well.
And you slept fine for the hour that we watched t.v in bed.
But as soon as I clicked my light off, anticipating a good three hours of snooze time, you woke up.
And you were pissed.

I fed you, you pooped, we changed you, I fed you.
You drifted off and I set you down beside me.
Within 20 minutes, you were up and wailing and slapping me about.
I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you.
You drifted off and I set you down beside me.
Within 20 minutes, you were up and wailing and slapping me about.
I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you.

I watched the clock turn from 2:20 to 5:00am.
By the last "I fed you, you pooped, I changed you, I fed you" routine, I woke your Daddy.

"I've had enough, " I said.  "I can do no more."

I handed you off, happy that SOMEHOW he had slept through your three hour long bitch-fest and I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on my hair dryer.
The hair dryer, by the way, has secret Mommy Healing Powers, and is used in extreme cases of duress.
When I need quiet, I'll sit on my bathroom floor with the door locked and flip it on.
I can't hear a thing.
Your brothers know to turn and run when the hair dryer is running and Mommy is not answering.
The Littles are learning--unless they've suddenly chopped their arms off and are going to die in the next ten minutes, I am not to be bothered.
Chas or Daddy can fill in until I have received all Hair Dryer Healing Power and can open the door and be friendly.
And sane.

So last night, if you were crying, it was out of my ear-reach and being handled by another fully capable (albeit boobless) human being.

I emerged at 5:30 to silence.
A quick peek in the bed proved that Daddy is indeed fully capable (yet still boobless) of soothing your tears.
You were nestled against him, sort of sitting up, with your little cap all jacked to the side like a wee bitty gangsta, and you were, thank the Lord, sleeping.

I think this was my fault, by the way, though I'd really like to just blame you for being a She-Devil.
Yesterday evening, I was feeling...normal...so I was up and around downstairs.
I took you outside around 8:00 and sat on the swing with you.
Daddy brought me a coffee.
And I think that was our problem.

But strangely, a morning coffee does not seem to bother you so I don't understand why the night-time one would produce such...fury.
It doesn't matter, I won't be making THAT mistake again.

I'll have decaf :)

Somehow between 5:30 and 11:00 this morning, I cluster-napped enough to finally get moving.
An 11:00 wake-up is not really feasable come Monday so we're going to have to do better on our nights together.
(And didn't I just say you were a wonderous sleeper?  Perhaps there's room for interpretation in the word "wonderous" and it ain't all good, sister...)

Already you're bucking the swaddle.
You want your hands free so you can slap me with them :)

You've had and lost a sweet little sucking blister.

Oh, and that reminds me.
You're a SLOPPY eater!
You get my milk going and then you're like, "Oh wait, not sure if I really am hungry after all..." meanwhile I'm soaking me and you and end up needing outfit changes in the middle of the night.
Grrrr.

And yet, I still find you adorable and had not started searching for your "gift receipt" ticket.
The one where I take you to the stork and I say, "This one doesn't fit well.  I'd like it in a new personality, please."

You're sort of "moving in" this weekend, in fact!
All of the baby things we didn't want to haul out beforehand are about to be hauled out.
Two baby swings, one for the family room and one for the schooling room.
Two bouncy seats, one for downstairs and one for upstairs.
I'm in need of a monitor because I'm convinced that you will shatter into a million pieces if you call for me and I don't hear you.

You're also joining the world this weekend.
I'm considering my first outing since Monday--a trip to the baby store to check on a few things.
Thinking of a co-sleeper for you, one that attaches to our bed and keeps you right by me but will also morph into a pack-n-play for later on.
And a new little bathtub--I've seen these ones that are like a bucket and seem very cozy; I think you'd fit quite nicely in there for...well, for ages, considering you're the size of a bag of potato chips.

Must run, you call.

Love,
Mama