30 August 2008


Noah Matthew is here. It's unbelievable. He is a beautiful baby who greatly resembles his handsome father. He didn't want to come out even after 24 hours of induction, so ultimately a Cesarean was his entrance into the world. He was born on August 28 at 11:14 pm at 8.1 pounds and 20.5 inches long. We were kept separated from Noah for almost 4 hours because they kept us in recovery to examine my "large uterus." Apparently, my uterus is abnormal, but whatever...we just wanted to see our little guy! Anyway, it was a long 4 hours, and we were dead by the time we made it to our postpartum room. I hadn't eaten for 24 hours at this point, so energy was definitely lacking. Friday came with an incredible feeling of newness. It was filled with loved ones coming to visit, attempts at breastfeeding, more jello and broth, and intermittent naps. I finally was allowed to eat half of a sandwich on Friday night, and sadly, it wasn't good. But then Saturday...Saturday, was a phenomenal day! Noah was even more good-looking than the day before, and I learned how to effectively feed him. He is so sweet, and he spent much of the day sprawled out on my chest. He smells just like I imagined he would, and the ability to provide for his needs gives me a feeling of happiness and satisfaction like I've never known. Matt and I are crazy about this kid. I can't wait for everyone to meet him. There is so much more to share, but sleep is calling my name, and I need to get a nap in before Mr. Noah wakes up again. More to come...

23 August 2008

Sleeping is overrated, right?

(picture by http://www.ericarankin.com/)
So, getting a full night's sleep has gone from difficult to practically impossible. I love this kid to no end, but I think I'd love him just a little more if he'd show up. Really, the anxiety of "when" is just too much to get over once my head hits the pillow. My thoughts go something like this: is this a real contraction? ok, no just a braxton hicks. dang my groin hurts. come on little guy, don't you want to come out? i've gotta try that barefoot contessa provencal potato salad recipe. who should we have over for dinner when i make that? oh my gosh, that's gotta be his foot poking me. time to turn over. oh my freakin' groin! ok, ev, just breathe. stuff back-pillow halfway under my lower back. i've got to call the mattress company and get our sucky mattress replaced. oooh, lower abdominal cramps; is this a real contraction? doubtful. maybe if i go the bathroom I can fall asleep. Bathroom routine: grab the bed post, slowly roll hips to edge of bed without disturbing the sensitive groin, sharp pain hits, i groan secretly hoping matt can hear and feel sorry for me, slowly lift body from bed, take a moment to steady self with one hand on the wall and limp to the bathroom. crawl back in bed, breathing heavily as if I just did something of significance. re-position the 10 pillows surrounding my body. ok, ev, just try to get comfy, pray for baby again, pray for wisdom again, pray for sleep again, pray for ease of mind again...just pretend your sleeping. rrrrr...this groin thing better go away the second he pops out. did my water just break? maybe that was my plug. take a feel test. nope, just my imagination as usual. why am i sweating? i have two fans pointed straight at me. right arm is asleep, time to re-position. i still need to get paper to print our birth plan. freakin' groin. come on baby, don't you want to come tonight? and so on and so forth...

06 August 2008

Pregnancy...when will it end?

This pregnancy is winding down. Sooner than later with any luck. I know that "millions of women" (as everyone likes to remind me) have experienced this, but (again, as I have replied to all that have attempted to comfort me with this sentiment) that doesn't help ME feel better. Widespread as it may be, this is the oddest experience I've ever been through. My body moves without me moving it. I have carpel tunnel all of a sudden. My arms fall asleep while I'm putting on make-up or drying my hair. I quite literally have to roll out of bed. I also, quite literally, walk like a freakin' penguin wherever I go. I seriously can't walk normally if I try. My nose is the size of Texas. I find myself racing for the bathroom every two hours. The width of my profile is freak-show-circus-like. I can't wear my wedding ring. (It's never been off this long since I've had it.) I wake up in an almost panic like state nightly wondering, "is this it?" And now the dreams...they are getting more and more odd. Last night I took a journey to France and learned about a dude named Jean Luke something and some guy named Du Ba`ld. I learned their histories in order to try and have a scholarly conversation with my intellect of a brother, and then I met and hung out with my bro at an NBA game. (Aren't NBA games only played in the states?) The night before (in my dream), I walked myself over to a very ghettofied gas station near our loft and told them they needed to revamp their look. I asked the owner if he liked his homeless clientele (who do in fact loiter continuously at this particular gas station...I'm not just being a jerk), or if he would prefer a clientele of a 'higher caliber' (these were my exact words in my dream...perhaps I am a jerk). I attempted logic, and tried to explain to him how middle class people probably fill their tanks all the way (which would earn him more money), rather than just a little of the way like his 'poorer' customers probably did. Then I handed him one of Matt's pressure washing business cards and told him that my husband could really help him get his gas station looking much nicer, which would appeal more to the downtown inhabitants. (This hasn't yet been reported, but Matt actually did buy a pressure sprayer and is planning to make extra cash on the weekends with it.) Let me just say, I've never been to France, never been to an NBA game, and I've never even been to this ghetto gas station (that really does exist). (Just so that some of you don't think I'm too big of a jerk, some dude did attempt to sell Matt a lawn mower at this particular station. Lawn mower, in the middle of downtown? A bit sketchy, right?)

All of this is just a normal day in the life of a pregee. Needless to say, I'm pretty ready. At this point, the anxiety of "when" won't go away.