Brotherly Love

Well hello, blogging audience. It's been approximately forever. Especially in the amount of stuff that has happened since I last blogged.

First, since I know this is the only reason any of you are still checking my blog, I got something new.

It's a baby.




Meet Andrew William! So here's the story. As many of you know, I was scheduled for a C-section on Oct 9 if nothing happened before that (Ha! Can you imagine?). The week before, on the evening of October 1, I bathed my hooligans.

The 3 Musketeers . . . a few hours before they were disbanded.

Mike and I put everybody to bed, then went downstairs to watch a movie or whatever we did that night. I don't even remember. I started getting a whole lot of contractions while sitting on the couch, but I'd been getting contractions every night when I was tired, so I was like, NBD.

Then we went to bed, and they didn't stop. They kept going. I was like, "Mike, it's not real. It's just faking me out again." And he was like, "You're not going to tell me you're in labor until the baby's crowning, are you?" But I convinced him to go to sleep. So he did. And started snoring. And I kept on getting contractions. It was great fun.

Finally, around 4:00 am, I was totally crying with every contraction and they were coming about every 3 minutes. So I sucked it up and woke up Mike, who was like, "I'm going to go shower and shave." It's okay. I put on clothes and called our sweet friend Cindy and we got the bag ready to go. And then we took off to the hospital.

We got there, and they were like, "Whoa, you're totally in labor." And I got all IV'd, and got denied anything but ice chips. And around 7:30 or so, I finally got an epidural (way better than the one I got with Katie, long story), and Mike and I promptly went to sleep. Seriously. I am so much a fan of modern medicine. I slept most of the morning, and Mike took a couple of naps, and things were going well. At one point I had to threaten Mike rather severely to convince him to go get some real lunch. I was not having a sleep-deprived AND low-blood-sugared husband when I had a baby.

So then, around 2:30ish, I was still hanging out, things were starting to feel serious, and the doctor came in to check me out. I was totally at a 7, but everything just STOPPED. Like, my body was not even trying to push this baby out. I was getting contractions for no reason at all. Grrrr.

Because of that and the fact that there was meconium going on, we decided to just go get it all done with. Hello, repeat C-section!

Mike in all his surgical glory.

So we went in, and they got me prepped, and eventually they invited Mike, and then . . . there was a baby! I had no idea what was going on because I forgot to change into contacts and I wasn't allowed to wear glasses in surgery. But after they pulled Andy out, Mike went around to the baby station to watch. And then they announced his weight . . .

9 pounds, 14 ounces!!!!!!!

How many kids do you know who are born with neck rolls?

I am not even kidding. He was ENORMOUS. There was a collective sound of surprise and shock from the entire operating room. I grew me a huge 'ole baby.

They came and laid him on the little bit of me that wasn't being SURGERY'd. And he immediately began rooting. Little lunch mouth. We snuggled. And I marveled that I actually grew a baby with fat rolls. Seriously.

ALSO, he was 22" long. That's beating Josh's height by 2 inches, and beating Katie's weight by TWO POUNDS!!!!!!! This kid is not messing around.

So then, when I was finally sewn up and Mike and I were done marveling at our gargantuan baby, we all went back to the delivery room to do our recovery. The nurses who were there for Andy were actually NICU nurses, so they were really funny taking care of Mr. the Hulk. And then when we tried breastfeeding and he latched right away, both of their jaws almost dropped to the floor. They're used to tiny little preemie babies who are tiny and don't eat normally or scream. And boy, can Andy do both of those things.

So things turned out pretty well. Yes, I really wanted to try for a VBAC, but honestly? I don't think having a VBAC with a TEN POUND BABY would have been very fun. I'm super cool with how things turned out. No disappointment at all here. Also, this face.

Oh hello, gas bubbles.

Since Andy wasn't born until 4:20 in the afternoon, and there's all that post-op recovery junk, we didn't get settled down in the maternity ward until night. So the hooligans went to bed before Mike even got home. But he went home that night and Andy and I got to just snuggle and sleep. And it was amazing. I was quite pleased that they only woke me up to give me pain meds.

Then, the next morning, the hooligans were SUPER anxious to come see me in the hospital. So Mike got them all in clothes and brought them over as soon as Andy and I were awake and they were dressed. And it was ADORABLE.

Joshy had been marching around and poking my belly and demanding that "Baby Andy, you get out of there!" So he was immensely excited to meet his new brother. And, as you can guess, Katie has been very anxious to be the little Mommy. But Peter may have had some jealousy issues. While Katie and Josh were fighting over whose turn it was to hold the baby, Peter was sitting with me on the hospital bed, talking a mile a minute. Non-stop. The whole time they were there. I think he missed me.

Joshy with his new brother

Peter wouldn't hold the baby yet.

 So Andy and I had a couple of glorious, quiet days in the hospital together, while Mike and the hooligans partied at home. And it was amazing.

Since I was healing so well, and I may have been just a little bit missing my hooligans, we decided we could go home Sunday afternoon. So our friend watched the kids again and Mike came and got us. It was kind of weird and surreal. But . . . a success?

Little Miss Mini-Mama

Joshy sure loves to be with his brother.

Things have gone pretty smoothly, I think. Andy's super healthy and fat, and super adorable, and a good sleeper, and pretty happy unless he thinks it's time to eat something, in which case he thinks the world is ending. But mostly he's happy and sweet.

Peter had some jealousy issues initially. But after a day and a half or so, I had him convinced that Andy wasn't there just to replace him. So he decided he liked the brother after all. I think it helped that Peter discovered that if Andy was crying, he could put his binky in and it would make him happy. Now he gets the "Oh Petey, you're such a good brother!" And everybody is happy.

See? Love.

And that's the story. Andy is huge and healthy and the kids love him. And Grandma is here, so life is fantastic.

OH! And I totally took newborn pictures. Because I am awesome.

Awake!

Yeah . . . the hooligans refused to wear clothes at first.

So now we're just having a grand 'ole time hanging out with Grandma, trying to frantically get something ready for Halloween, and keeping me from doing anything to inhibit my recovery. It's driving me crazy.

Popeye the Andy Man!

Andy's first outing*

*So, a few days after my mom was here, we decided to get crazy and go out for a walk. Peter and Andy were in the stroller, and Josh refused to let anyone else push. It was adorable. For the record, this was a bad idea for me.

Truer words were never put on a T-shirt.

This is here for blackmail purposes.

This is how brothers snuggle . . . apparently.

If I post again before Halloween, it'll be a miracle. We can all just admit it. But hopefully there's enough Andy here to keep you all happy until next time. Peace.