The section was like all other mundane sections.  No complications, great anesthesia, kind doctor and nurses, cut and baby out in seven minutes.  Tubes tied.  Not much of a birth story when you just check in, get IVed, roll down to the OR, and pull the baby out. We spent about 2 hours in recovery before getting our private room, and introducing him to his sister and brothers was wonderful.  They think he rocks. 

Now he’s 11 days old, a place I thought I may never reach.  Although truly a blessing, the year was long.  Each day seemed to just drag on and on.  Now, from the moment he arrived, everything has sped up one hundred fold, and I am already grieving how quickly he is growing.  He is only waking once a night, nursing like a champ, and cries very rarely.  He is the very manifestation of the capacity of God’s love, in that after three other children, we are as in love with him as physically and spiritually possible.  Our hearts just get bigger, to make room.  God must have a ginormous heart, to fit all of us in.

Although nothing like so many must suffer through, the mere 36 hours spent in NICU were some of the hardest I’ve ever endured, and gave me a completely new appreciation for the pain of parents that must walk that for days, weeks, and months.  Just the thought that he was over there, instead of in the room with me, near me, sent me into tears I couldn’t stop.  I cried for two days like I’ve never before.  I was just out of control of my emotions.  And his little life was never truly in danger.  What must parents do who fear for their children? We are so grateful it was so minor an issue, but my hormones didn’t see it that way…

I’m not posting a pic yet, as I’m having weird, protective, hormonal issues still.  I don’t really even want much of my family to hold him, or breath to close to him!  I think this will pass, it has in the past.  If you are one of the three people who stop by here, and just have to see what he looks like, leave a comment and I’ll send you one directly.  Maybe (kidding). 

We feel peaceful, complete, and excited about the future with this boy in our lives.  Now I just have to figure out how to get all this entries into some sort of hard copy form, to put in his scrap book…any ideas? 

This is just a quick update, as I am pretty tired.  It’s been a trip,  
and I just wanted you to know I’ve not forgotten your sweet prayers  
and thoughts, or that I need to get to you, but there has just not  
been time.  Short version is that baby ended up in NICU for 36 hours,  
starting about 8 hours after he was born, and things were just nuts  
for us, with the section recovery and all at the same time, as you  
can imagine.  He is just perfect now, but it was scary for a bit, as  
there was fluid in his lungs, a need for a feeding tube, oxygen, IVs,  
Xrays, tests, antibiotics, etc., all of which is really terrifying  
just hours after giving birth, when he has to be taken from you, as  
you can imagine, and Ang, I know experienced.  They say it was just a  
slow transitional thing, and he was returned to us after a day and a  
half.  We came home yesterday.  In the big pic, it was just a blip,  
but we’re sure glad it’s over.  And blessedly, breastfeeding is going great, despite our intial setbacks with NICU.

B has all the pictures, some really great ones, but it will be a  
couple of days before I get organized enough to get them to you.  I  
so appreciate your love and prayers, and am so glad to be home with  
our new boy.  He is, of course, perfectly beautiful, and still,  
naturally, nameless.  We are in love, and the older children are  
smitten.  It truly was worth this whole past year…and countless  
more…

Love,
Al

I feel mellow.  I think that is good. 

Just checking in, you know, for posterity. 

In other news, the last visit had me up 2 more pounds, making the total, what…12?  And today, only 2 weeks later, another 4.  2 pounds per week.  Now that’s hefty gaining.  And there’s no water retention here.  Just all, um, baby.  And maybe a little softness around the hips and thighs.  And arms.  And chest.  Maybe.  So, 16 pounds as of today, with 7 weeks to go.

7 weeks to go.  7 weeks to go. 

Little else is going on, aside from rampant uterine gymnastics, napping, and heading into the holidays.  I have many friends I need to call up and catch up with (Rie!), but have not done so, yet.  I have had one seemingly early spurt of energy, never did get one in the second trimester, and have gone about cleaning up our rooms at my folks somewhat maniacally.  Even the fan blades were subject to my frenzy.  Mr. 4tops was afraid I was going into early labor. 

I still have no "appetite" to speak of, meaning nothing sounds very good to eat, but I have become very hungry, for the first time this entire tour.  I can see that 1-2 pounds per week this last trimester coming very easily.  Yet, I have only purchased 2 pair or maternity pants, and one pair extra large to drawstring under this enormous belly, and all my shirts are just larges and extra larges from Old Navy.  This is the cheapest I’ve ever gotten by on maternity wear.  Just don’t know how long they’ll last in this home stretch.

No names.  Not even any good ideas.  But I am starting to get kind of warm fuzzy over the prospect of meeting this crazy gymnast.  Just 11 more weeks, just 11 more weeks… 

4 pounds gained as of last appointment (going again today, we’ll see what’s new). *edited* Make that 8 pounds.

Section scheduled for the 23rd of Feb.

Running out of torso room…can’t imagine where the next 3 month’s growth will go.

Mexican food or hamburgers eaten for dinner haunt me the rest of the night. 

Sciatic nerve is a pain in the butt, literally.

We have no name.  Not even a decent idea.

We have enough little clothes, but no carseat, or place to put the baby to sleep. 

I’d kind of like to go to sleep, and wake up on February 23rd. 

I had my first baby nearly 11 years ago, and 2 more babies after that.  Number 4 is due at the end of February, and my biggest challenge is what sort/brand/size of diaper bag to get!  I’ve never been very happy with any of the myriad I’ve purchased in the past.  Backpacks, small pieces of luggage, oversized beach bag sorts, multi-compartmentalized, one big ol’ sack, over one shoulder, across the chest…no matter, I’m always hunting for the next, better, this-one-will-make-my-life-perfect diaper bag. 

Please send suggestions, if you happen to love/to have loved your diaper bag.   

So here I am, in the 21st week, with nothing but good reports from the sonograms, measurements, doctors, nurses, etc., and I’ve started to gather a few things for the baby.  Even saying it feels a bit strange.  For the baby.  A few swaddling blankets,  sleep gowns, footie sleepers…but I feel I should keep the receipts, and not open them all, and wait to wash them till like the 37th week or something.  And even then, what if he doesn’t come home with us?  Horrible thoughts, I know.  But it’s what real women truly have to suffer sometimes, and occasionally, more than once.  Multiple times.  And I have to be the first to admit that I have absolutely no idea what it must be like.  And maybe that’s why I feel these nerves this time…I, we, have been able to bring home 3 of the most beautiful, healthy babies.  And now the fourth is half way "home".  It’s almost like our life just couldn’t be that lucky, or blessed, or whatever you want to call it.  Is there another shoe to drop?  Some sort of cosmic balance that may say three’s enough?  Am I just hormonally challenged, and unable to relax?  My faith says perfect love casts out fear, and I’m loved perfectly by Him, the Father, so I should allow the fear to recede…by my fleshly hands holding those tiny clothes…they transmit the nerves to my head and I feel concern.  Not all out worry, just unrest.

I remember having a bit of this with each of the others.  And this entire pregnancy, it’s sort of like I’ve been waiting for the bad news.  It just couldn’t be that we’d have so much, so easily.  I mean, the pregnancies suck…they are sick, lethargic, full of vomiting and indigestion, but they come fairly easily, and although must end in c-sections, have also ended in wonderfully whole and healthy babies.  Who can really complain here? 

I suppose, I just need to breathe, and think positively.