Welcome, my little boy

Still an hour shy of a day old, what are you dreaming about that would make you squint up  your face and cry? Was it the scary process of being born? Of getting squeezed out from the warm, dark, floating space of mommy's womb to this bright and noisy place where sometimes your limbs are exposed to the open air?

You came yesterday morning. Around 2:55am, Mommy awoke to a painful contraction. Whereas previous contractions are comforting assurances of my body getting ready for your birth, nothing more then a tightening that is slightly uncomfortable, this contraction was a jabbing pain. I lay there in the dark and waited. Sure enough a second one came, and then a third, all 8 minutes apart. After an hour of this, I went downstairs to check on my computer and decided that this might be the real deal. One week ahead of our scheduled induction, and you decided to take things into your own hand. You were coming.

I woke your daddy, and after he was ready, at around 5, we roused your sisters. Both went from being groggy from sleep to wide awake when we told them that you are likely to make your final appearance. Both got dressed and loaded into the car with a rare display of efficiency. Your Nanny and Granddad then picked them up around 5:30 at the hospital. By then, I was 4.5-5 cm dilated (was 2-3 a week ago) and my blood pressure went up. By then, the chances of us leaving with you still in my belly has shrunk to near nothing.

The doctor came around 7:30 to check on us. I've progressed another couple of centimeters. Before then, I've put off deciding whether I want pain medications or not. The problem was, I was completely comfortable during the couple of minutes between contractions. I could even fall asleep. But when the contractions came, there was no questioning that they were building in intensity and demanding more and more of my energy and efforts to ride through it. It scares me to be washed away in the pain and loose control of it all. When the doctor came back again a little after 8 to break my water, I was fighting with a contraction and noting that they are about to transition into their final phase. I told her I am going with the epidural this time, and what a difference it made. The epidural went in around 9. After that, instead of the pain, the contractions became a very manageable pressure in my lower abdominal. I not only could joke with the nurses through it, I actually had to tune into it to make sure I don't miss any time-to-push signals. An hour later, I furrowed my brows and discerned that perhaps the pressure I was feeling had changed. The nurses called back the doctor who almost went back to her office to see a couple of patients, and I started pushing. With your sisters, the pain were crushing waves that I struggle to stay afloat and breath. The pushing process was more or less a haze in which actions and happenings blend together until at last a baby was handed to me. With you, however, I was calm and clear headed and present. Fully aware of the room, the people in it, and my surrounding. The pressure when I needed to push was still hard to bear, but between pushes, man, I was even able to chat with the doctor and ask after her son. Four pushes through the contractions, and at 10:08, you were pulled out and handed to me. Gurgling and confused, you cried right away. A little bundle of life. Three times I've been handed a baby right out from my body, and each time, it is equally profound, incredulous, miraculous, and wonderful. Red faced, a full head of hair, little cries and waving limbs. You are mine and ours, living, breathing, and starting a life of your own. What awaits you, only time would tell, but you will have us by your side, always.

Welcome to the world, my son.

Two with an attitude

Lauren found a new game. She climbs onto the toy chest in their room, which is probably a foot and a half high, then while holding onto my hand (that's her compromise), jumps down. After a thrilling few jumps, she demonstrated her invented game to her father. Her father's response "this scares me." With a smile, Lauren calmly gave her retort, "than go away."

Later that night, the girls' dad told me Lauren said "oh shoot!"while watching him play Diablo earlier. Yes, my ballet loving, princess dressing, dolly playing 5- and 2- year old daughters are also well versed in Star Wars - game and movie, and the newest Diablo. They each have an in-game character; scary looking witches and sorcerers with sweet names like Violet and Lilly. They know about skeleton kings and quests and raids. If they hear any dramatic conversation or musics coming from the office, they, especially the older one, would rush over to claim their stools beside their father to watch him play. Apparently, their father's character was attacked by a bunch of bad guys today. And, according to Lauren "they look tough, so I said 'oh shoot!'"