Monday, October 3, 2016
It was my first official day of maternity leave, and I was feeling a little guilty that I was still pregnant. I had definitely reached the point where doing anything physical was a chore, so chasing after toddlers all morning was no longer a great option, and napping more frequently was absolutely part of the plan.
Nina actually had a school holiday so we took advantage of the perfect fall weather and went to the zoo. We checked out the two baby giraffes, caught a quick peek of the hippos, watched the lions play, and of course made our way to the carousel and train. We had a nice lunch at home, and then with a sitter watching Nina I indulged in a final manicure while I still had a baby in my belly.
That night I decided Nina should get her bath done early, and as she enjoyed her "PJ dinner" I felt like maybe the large milkshake I had as an afternoon snack was a little too much. I went ahead and ate my dinner too, and was relieved when Chris got home to take over the bedtime ritual. By 7:30 my little stomachache was more intense and more frequent, and I finally clued in that this could be the beginning of my labor.
As Chris continued the bedtime ritual I called my sister-in-law to come over and started prepping all of Nina's things for school the next day (all while watching the first few routines on Dancing with the Stars). Around 8:30 Chris came back in the kitchen, surprised to see sippy cups and snack boxes all labeled and packed up. I told him we should probably head to the hospital, so we asked our neighbor to come hang out until Annie arrived. Poor Chris didn't even eat dinner, but that ended up being the right choice on his part.
Chris noticed that I had to stop every now and then to catch my breath, and kept politely asking if I was ok. I replied (perhaps less than politely) that I was fine and we just needed to get going. As we drove in I called the doula and the doctor, and tried not to notice that Chris may have been taking advantage of the empty highway to go just a little faster than the speed limit.
The walk from the parking garage to the L&D registration desk felt longer than ever, but fortunately it was a very quick check-in, and we headed right into a triage room. I chuckled to myself as the nurse said she'd do a brief exam to see if we should stay or go back home. When her eyes opened wide with surprise and she confirmed I was dilated about 6-7 centimeters I knew we weren't going anywhere except the delivery room.
Her calm demeanor shifted to a more hurried, slightly frantic pace as she tried to continue the admission paperwork between my contractions. I got the iPad set up with my custom playlist while Chris got settled in on the couch, ready to observe. Meanwhile our doula arrived and got to work cooling me off and checking in with the nurses (who were anxiously paging the doctor).
The contractions continued intensifying, eventually my water broke, and soon after that I heard the doctor proclaim, "He's got a lot of hair." I took that as a welcome sign that we were nearly there, and felt a wave of relief when his whole head was out. I immediately felt a wave of panic as I heard someone mention "shoulders," but with a final effort and encouragement from the nurses and doula I was rewarded with a slippery, wrinkly, teeny blue-tinted baby boy being brought to my chest at 9:57 Monday night (probably as the phone numbers for DWTS voting were posted). Much to my surprise and delight Chris cut the cord, and Andrew's transition to the world was complete. Cue the hormonal roller coaster and the bustle of activity to tidy up, none of which really registered with me as I snuggled with my perfect, sweet baby boy. And so began the life of Andrew Phillip Miller.
Yay, his lungs are working! |
Hello, nice to meet you. |
My, how pink you are. |
Daddy snuggles are the best. |
Sweet dreams Baby Bear |
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