The purpose of this blog has never been intended to serve as an advice column, nor do I claim to have all of the pregnancy questions and answers. I do, however, feel obligated as a woman to share some of the details that nobody prepared me for after the birth. I feel like if I had been prepared, things would've been WAY less dramatic. That being said, this is not a blog for male eyes. I know you're going to keep reading it anyway and then scoff at my lack of boundaries, but I won't feel sorry for you, because I tried to warn you. This is for the ladies. Not the single ones. I'm not Beyonce.

1. You will be on an adrenaline rush after the baby is born.

This one is kind of obvious, but it's important to cover all of the bases, here. I suffered through 31 hours if labor, and around hour 27, all I could think about was getting the baby OUT so that I could sleep in peace. I had great plans to hold her until around 11, then send her off to the nursery for a sleep I had been looking forward to since I was about 5 months pregnant. I was going to sleep with reckless abandon, and no one was going to stop me... Except for me, apparently. I was so exhausted that I had transitioned into a super alert state of delirium. I was wide awake after I sent the baby to the nursery, and even though my body was so exhausted that I literally couldn't move any of my limbs, my mind was racing. I was so in love with my baby that my heart was still pounding, I kept looking at pictures of her on My phone, I wiggled my toes in an almost anxious fashion, and I waited for sleep to come. When sleep finally showed up at my door, so did the nursery. It was time to feed my tiny baby, which leads me to my next point.

2.  You will not sleep the first night.

The nursery brings your baby to you every two hours (if you're nursing.) This part of the tale is extremely exhausting and extremely hard. You see, your baby doesn't know emotions yet, so all they know is that they've had an especially long day, and they're ready to sleep. I don't know much about newborns, but I have learned that they aren't waking up unless it's of their own accord. Maybe I have a child who likes sleep more than the average bear, but from the day she was born, she would not wake up to eat unless she woke up on her own. This was excruciatingly frustrating, considering that she was sleeping for 4 hours at a time, and the hospital demands the baby eat every two hours. The nursery would not back off, and eventually decided that leaving her in the room was the best thing for me,  because that way I could "bond" with her. Don't be me. Page the nursery back to the room and demand that they take the baby. You'll thank me. This leads me to the second half of the sleepless first night: regular nurses. Because I had a c-section, my vitals had to be checked on the hour, every hour. This meant someone coming in my room, checking my blood pressure, temperature, and pulse every time I started to doze off. It was horribly frustrating, but fortunately, they had me on some pretty intense pain killers, so I was fairly unaware of my annoyance. I don't know what happens to the people who deliver naturally, maybe they leave you alone at night, but if you end up being gutted like a fish, prepare for a long night.

3. Breastfeeding is easily the hardest part of post-partum.

I didn't read too much about breastfeeding, mostly because I knew it was a natural experience, but also because I thought it would come easily to me. I was so looking forward to the beautiful moment when my baby daughter would latch on, and I would provide sweet nectar for her to thrive and grow on. That moment didn't come. My daughter opted to take an approach that involved latching on for 2 seconds and sleeping, or latching on for 2 seconds and screaming her head off. I tried for two days straight to feed her, all the while enduring pressure from the nursery to "supplement" her with formula "until we found a rhythm" and going on 5 hours of sleep in 48 hours. I cried and cried every time I tried to feed her, and pondered what was wrong with me as a woman. I couldn't feed naturally, I couldn't deliver naturally, and eventually the hormones had me so depressed that I allowed a formula feeding. While I was wheeling her back the nursery, she threw up every ounce of the formula that they had forced down her baby throat. It smelled awful, broke my heart in two, and rejuvenated my desire to feed her myself. I'll be honest and tell you that it wasn't until I was home from the hospital, exhausted on the couch, and making a half-hearted attempt to feed her while I took a nap that she latched on for the first time. She ate for about 10 minutes and then slept. For 3 hours. Babies really have a mind of their own, and the nursery is going to make you feel like a bad mother if you don't feed your child every 2 hours. I would encourage you to meet with the lactation consultant at the hospital, because she was wonderful to remind me that the baby's stomach is only the size of a marble for the first week of life. They really don't need much, and they'll make sure and let you know when they do. Breastfeeding is hard, feels like the world's most UN-natural thing, and you'll be tempted to give up. Don't. Once Ella got it down, it really did become beautiful to me, and watching her little fat rolls pop up Pushes me to soldier on. It is natural, it IS beautiful, and it's free. Every mom loves free things.

4. You're not as strong as you think you are.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. I was basically sliced in half to deliver my daughter. Doctors cut through skin, muscle, fat... you name it. And I was up and walking around the next day. You're on some INSANE pain killers, and even though you kind of say "Ow" every time you take a step, it's a very tolerable pain. But the pain killers are masking the extent of your pain. If you don't make yourself rest, by the end of day 2 of recovery, you'll be miserable with the pain of trying to move in bed, as they start weaning you off of painkillers so that you can go home the next day. Once again, I don't know how it works for natural births... but c-sections are painful. Don't be me, don't be the hero. Stay in your bed and cuddle your newborn. They smell like heaven.

5. You will be absolutely insane for the first week.

Like, we're talking bi-polar, schizophrenic, and manic-depressive all rolled into one giant blob. I am quite certain that Cody pondered leaving me at the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation. I was very easily stressed, moved to hysterics over things that wouldn't normally bother me, and so exhausted that I had a mini-panic attack on the second night. This is a true story. People had been coming in and out of my hospital room all day long, so I hadn't slept at all. Never mind the fact that I was still running on fumes from labor and the first night. All I could do was cry by about ten o'clock that night. Cody tried hugging me, consoling me, comfort in all of it's forms, but it only made me cry harder. I knew I was acting like an idiot, which only made me madder, which only made me cry harder. Cody knew that if the baby stayed in the room with me again, I wouldn't sleep. He called the nursery, and while I've never hated my husband, I think that watching them roll the baby away was the closest I've ever come to it. I was already crying, but that flipped a switch in my crazy brain, and I was gasping for breath between sobs for about 30 minutes. Cody basically sat in silence on the other side of the room and waited for me to fall asleep. When I finally fell asleep, I didn't move. Even when the nurses came in to check my vitals, I was so tired that the literally had to lift my arm for me to put the blood pressure cuff on. I slept like I've never slept, and even though I hated that they gave Ella formula that night, if I hadn't stopped and slept, I have no doubts that I would have suffered a serious bout of post-partum depression. To be completely honest, I thought that getting home would be the key to feeling like myself again. Nope. When I got home, I realized that I didn't have a doctor to page about every weird thing Ella did. I didn't have nurses there to weigh her and make sure she was eating enough. I didn't have nurses to track my recovery and calm me whenever I felt a weird pain or twinge by my incision. I was on my own, and it felt lonely. I didn't know how to express this without crying, but I didn't want to freak everyone out by trying... So I basically didn't talk for about a week. I knew my parents were concerned, I knew Cody was wondering if he would ever get his wife back, and I absolutely hated the way I felt. It's normal. Your hormones are running rampant, and it takes a week or two to balance out a bit. The first week really is about surviving. Cry when you feel like it, and take showers when you feel like you're about to lose your mind. It helps.

6. The Second night home is the hardest.

The first night was tough, don't get me wrong, But it was manageable because I was prepared for sleepless nights with a newborn. I survived the first night (even though we ended up sleeping on the couch in the living room, and she slept for 3 hours, tops) and didn't rest the next day. I'm going to be really honest with you and say that the whole "Sleep when she sleeps" thing is crap. You're still on a bit of an adrenaline rush from the night before, and you're constantly checking on the baby, even if she's in a cradle right beside you. It takes a couple of weeks before you're okay with letting them sleep without poking them every 10 minutes. When the second night rolls around, you regret not taking a nap immediately. Your body is beginning to shut down, and you'll fall asleep in places you never would have imagined. I fell asleep in the glider with my head hanging down to my chest. I still have a knot in my neck from it. The baby is still trying to establish a routine, and their only source of communication is crying. It's completely okay to cry with them. I know I did. The second night is the night that you'll wonder what you were thinking by choosing to reproduce. This doesn't make you a bad person, and it really doesn't make you a bad mother. It makes you a human being. It means that you're still functioning despite overwhelming exhaustion. It means that you will miss life before the baby, when you could at least sleep for more than 2 hours at a time. It means that the hormones coursing through your body are doing their job. It's a tough time, because you're so thankful for your beautiful baby, but you're so miserably tired. It will be awhile before it becomes "the new normal" and you'll learn how to function again. Hold on!


7. You're not hemorrhaging.

... Just trust me. You're not.

8. There are tools to help you survive.

I have very quickly discovered a couple of baby items that have been our saving grace. I'll share them here, just in case you want to investigate on your own time.

This is where our daughter sleeps for the time being. It started as a "nap" idea, but she has slept like a queen in it since the very beginning. She sleeps in it beside my bed at night, but also uses it for naps during the day. I love it because it's tall enough for me to be able to reach in and grab her at night, but low enough that I can still roll over and look down to make sure shes okay. The cradle keeps her at a slight incline, so she's not flat on her back, and I completely believe that it's a major contributor to her lack of tummy problems. It folds up for travel (I take it to my mom's house when we visit,) and it's super lightweight. I have loved and adored this cradle. I'm so glad we chose it over a bassinet.

 

This is a nursing pillow called "My Brest Friend..." and it is. It really is. You can't tell from the picture, but each side of the pillow has a small raised pillow for sweet baby heads to rest on while they nurse. The pillow straps around me, which is one of the greatest advantages it carries over the Boppy. The pocket is great for storing cell phones (I use my timer on my phone to track her feedings.) This has been a complete lifesaver for late night feedings, because I'm able to throw her on the pillow and lean against my headboard for feedings. I don't have to worry about holding her up, smothering her if I fall asleep, or keeping her latched. It has been my favorite baby item to date.

 



 9. Fluids are crucial.

Even if you aren't breastfeeding your child, your body still needs the hydration to help recovery. I wish I had known this. I wish I had maintained my gallon of water a day immediately after recovery instead of waiting 2 weeks to start it back up. I'm 3 weeks post-partum, and I've been back on my gallon of water a day for 3 days. I have not suffered a single after-pain... those are real, by the way. After-pains are pains that are similar to light contractions, and it's just your body putting everything back together without your uterus in the way. I noticed them the most while nursing, but since the water is back in my system, I haven't felt them at all. I haven't had an breakthrough bleeding (just being real,) and I feel more like myself than I have since birth. It's no coincidence. It's the water. Stay hydrated... ESPECIALLY if you're nursing, because otherwise you won't produce enough to satisfy your tiny little leech.

10. It gets Better, almost overnight.

I'm not saying it gets any easier to feed a baby at 3 o'clock in the morning, and I'm definitely not saying that it's easy period... but it gets better. You begin to see the fruits of your labor through tiny baby fat rolls, good reports from doctors, and sweet baby grins. Your baby begins to see you as a comforter, and instead of screaming until you feed her, she calms when you pick her up and talk to her. She might scream again a few minutes later, but the satisfaction of knowing that she's beginning to recognize you is one of the most wonderful feelings. The first time Ella smiled at me, the world stopped spinning, and as tired as I was, I spent the next hour looking at her sweet face and wondering how we were ever "the Gaines" without her. Your husband starts treating you like his wife again instead of walking on eggshells around you. You'll find that you enjoy hugging and kissing him again. He'll change the way he loves you, and it's all because he loves you as his child's mother, which is a new, tender kind of love. He'll still tease you and playfully tap your behind when he walks by, but you'll notice that he hugs you a little longer, and kisses your cheek a little more often. You'll feel so incredibly adored that you won't care about the strange new shape of your stomach. The only thing you'll care about is this new dynamic to your marriage, and eventually you'll smile every time you realize that you're a family instead of a couple. Everything about your world is different, but somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. The feedings and constant sleepy kind of become part of the new normal, and you start to feel like yourself again. Eventually, the baby sleeps for 4 hours at a time instead of thirty minute intervals, and those extra two hours feel like twelve. Ella is a wonderful sleeper, and she has been since our fifth night at home, but I try not to brag about that, because I know others that have 6 week old babies that are still up every 2 hours. Every baby is different, and hopefully yours is going to be a dream, but be thankful for the 4 hour stretches. I know I am.

Okay. That's probably enough. There are other things that go on that weren't appropriate for blogging, but I'm still thrilled to discuss them if you have questions. In the meantime, prepare yourself, ask the Lord to prepare your heart, and Sleep while you can. Cliche advice, but you'll wish you had listened.


Medium Marge Out.

Ella Morgan: The Arrival

I guess it's a good thing I bared my soul in week 36, because it was my last pregnancy blog. I know I mentioned there that we were full term and baby could come at any minute, but I really didn't understand the weight of my words, apparently. I'm a little bummed that I won't get to do the 37 week blog, because I was half-way done and it was actually a pretty fun post, but this tiny baby yawning on my chest makes it okay. Before we get too far into things, I want to give everybody fair warning that while bringing my daughter into this world was one of the most beautiful moments of my entire life, the process was pretty disgusting, and some of that is going to be shared in this blog. I also need to express that it is about 4 o'clock In the morning, and I tend to get a little weepy and sentimental running on limited sleep and lots of hormones. So if you aren't one for the "details" of a story or the joy that consumes my soul now, this isn't the blog for you.  It was only fair that I warned you.

On Monday, July 1st, I went for my 37 week check-up. Technically, I was 37 weeks and three days, but it's apparently all the same. I was feeling fantastic, decked out in Rangers gear from head to toe, and plotting a day of cleaning and naps. I got to the doctor's office and there was a woman in full blown labor sitting across from me. Next to me, there was a woman going through a list of foods she needed before her induction the next day. I smiled a little bit, because I was thrilled that in just a few short weeks, it would be me either dying from labor pains or bossing Cody around as I prepared to give birth. As usual, When my name was called, I had to step on the scale, and noticed I gained 2 pounds in a week with no changes to my diet. We took my blood pressure and I closed my eyes while the machine pumped the daylight out of my arm. It took several minutes to get the reading, and when the numbers popped up on the screen, I almost came out of the chair. 149/97. That's pretty much 150/100, y'all. The nurse immediately started asking all sorts of questions and took me to a room. My doctor came in about a minute later (even though I knew there were still people in front of me.) He was very calm, collected, and casual about everything as he checked her heartbeat, listened to mine, and prepped me to check my cervix. Of course, it was no where close to ready, and only a little "softened." He did say he could feel her head, which was exciting for me because it meant the process was starting. I started to relax, prepared to hear "bedrest", and thanked The Lord that she was okay. He sent the nurse for a sonogram machine and asked me where Cody was (Mondays are incredibly busy for him and my appointment was late morning. I had forced him to go to work with the promise that he wouldn't miss anything.) He found Ella on the sonogram machine and explained as he went that he was checking position and fluid. He turned the machine off, said "Hey, so, I want you to call Cody and tell him to wrap up whatever he's doing at work and come on back, because we're going to have a baby." Of course that grabbed my attention, and after a delayed reaction of "Ummmm, what?" He explained that Ella was completely okay, but her fluid was incredibly low, there were calcium deposits on my placenta, and my blood pressure/weight gain pointed to pre-eclampsia (again.) he basically said that since we were 37 1/2 weeks, it was safer for her to be out than in, so we were going to induce. I called Cody, he kind of sat in silence for awhile, then got REALLY excited. The doctor had me go home and get my stuff, then head straight to the hospital. I called my parents to meet me at the house, tried not to throw up, and took a deep breath. The moment I had cried out for only days before was here, and I had no idea how to cope with it.

Admission to the hospital was quick and easy (pre-registering has that effect) and it still felt surreal to walk into the room and change into a hospital gown. The nurses immediately hooked the blood pressure machine up, and we got a reading of 153/98. Baby was cool as a cucumber, with her heartbeat hanging out right at 160. They shoved a needle into the side of my arm, right by my wrist (ow) and checked my cervix. In one hour, I had dilated a centimeter and was 60% effaced. I celebrated and smiled, thinking that the day might not be too dramatic. The nurse placed a pill by my cervix that was supposed to dissolve and hopefully begin labor. I had to stay in bed and on my left side for 2 hours. At the end of those 2 hours, I was allowed to get up and walk around for a bit since my blood pressure had dropped to 118/77. Annoying, right? As soon as I stood up, I felt a contraction. Nothing bad, just enough that I noticed it. About thirty minutes later, I was put back in bed and had my cervix checked. No change. I watched Sleepless in Seattle and A League of Their Own and smiled that two of my favorite movies were on TV while I was waiting for my baby to come. Two hours later, another pill was placed, and not even fifteen minutes later, I was having contractions about 2 minutes apart, and about thirty minutes later, the needle was going off of the charts because they were so strong. Cody was downstairs eating dinner by then, and I think he only panicked a little when he walked back in to find his previously happy wife in a ball of tears. He sat beside me, held my hand, and kissed my cheek each time I survived another contraction. I was having them about a minute apart, and while I wouldn't say that the pain was enough to make me scream and slap Cody for putting me in this position, it was a pretty bad pain. I think the very worst part of it is that you do great for the first few hours, and then you just want them to stop for a minute. All I wanted was a break from the pressure and pain. But that wasn't happening. This went on for about an hour before my new nurse, Amanda, came in and said "Hey, I've been watching your contractions on the monitor, and I know you haven't asked yet, but I called the anesthesiologist. He'll be here in about thirty minutes. Those are really big, fast-paced contractions and they're obviously not pleasant since you're crying." I almost hugged her, but it felt like my hips were breaking, so I didn't. She checked my cervix and told me I was finally a two, and I almost punched her because I was annoyed that I wasn't at least a 5. Your mood changes rapidly and without warning during labor. Shortly after, the anesthesiologist came in, and even though he was completely in love with himself, I tried to be patient, because he had the drugs, and I needed them. The epidural was not a pleasant experience for me, mostly because he didn't tell me what he was doing, then told me not to move when he shoved a needle unexpectedly into my spine. Half way into the process, a contraction kicked in, and I was pondering ways to kill him when he said "You really shouldn't move right now."

Epidurals are a blessing and a curse. Well, for me anyway. It was wonderful to stop feeling the contractions, but I hated not being in control of my legs. It was about 9 o'clock at this point, and hunger was making itself evident. I was incredibly thirsty, and already battling dry mouth. I chewed ice chips like it was the best thing I'd ever had, but my mood was gradually declining. The next 12 hours were the most miserable part of the entire experience for me, as I was basically paralyzed in a bed, and had to page a nurse anytime I wanted to roll over. Cottonmouth was the worst part of it all, as I knew water was still hours away. I was awake until 4 o'clock in the morning, my body held prisoner, and labor had almost come to a standstill. I don't know that I've ever prayed as hard or as continuously as I did that night. The contractions were hardly even peaking. I had another pill placed at 4, and I was foolish enough to ask what happened if the 4th pill didn't work. The nurse told me we would have a 12 hour wait period, then start again. That meant another 24 hours with no food, no water, and no legs. She checked me again, still a 2. No changes in my softening cervix either. I finally fell asleep about 6:35, and my new nurse woke me up at 7:30 to check me. No changes. I threw my head back against the pillow and asked when I would get the 4th pill. She shook her head, said "The Pills obviously aren't working for us." And started a pitocin drip. Mother of mercy, even in the midst of the epidural, I could feel my uterus contracting in response. I was delighted. About 2 hours later, she came back in and said that my doctor wanted to stop the pitocin drip (it elevates blood pressure) if I wasn't dilating. She checked... No changes. At all. Defeat began to fill my heart as I waited for the 4th and final pill before a 12 hour wait. She mentioned that I would be able to eat during the 12 hours, but all I heard was that it was another 12 hours trapped in a bed before another 12 hour round of pills. I was so, so, so irritable. I was disgusted with my attitude, and I pity anyone who dared to converse with me. About noon, Cody was brave enough to come and love on me a little bit. I lost it. Tears fell faster than they've ever fallen before. Of course, the nurse walked in right in the middle of it all, and said that my doctor was in an emergency C-Section, but she would make sure he came in immediately. Well, about an hour later my doctor walked in. He checked my cervix (again) and sighed. Still a two. He sat back in a chair and said "Did your mom deliver naturally?" I said "Nope." Then he went through an entire list of scenarios and basically said that because of the position of the cervix, Ella's decision to disengage her head and hide in my ribs, and the lack of progress, he felt that there was about a 1 in 10 chance of me having her naturally. He said something about my pelvic bones also being an issue, but I had stopped listening. I already knew this meant I was going under the knife whether it was on July 2nd or July 3rd. He was wonderful enough to still allow me to believe that the decision was mine, and laughed when I said "If I was your wife and you loved me madly, what would you tell me to do?" He stood up, told the nurse to book the O.R. at 5, and said we would deliver her via C-Section. That was a weird moment for me. I knew it was the best option, and if we're being honest, the Lord prepared my heart the entire pregnancy for a C-Section. I knew. I just knew. But a piece of me was still sad, because I knew that I would be the last to see her. I knew I would have to go to recovery and go through endless vital checks because my body couldn't do what it was created to. Part of me wonders what would've happened if I had gone into labor naturally, but the other side of me knows that her life is pre-written, and nothing about that day took the Lord by surprise.

My mood lifted significantly after learning that the end was in sight. I had about a three hour wait, but I was on cloud nine. About an hour later, I gradually started feeling itchy across my chest and back. It spread to my arms and legs, and I finally buzzed the nurse because I was tearing my skin and bleeding from excessive scratching. The nurse immediately started looking for the source of the problem... I should probably mention that I have a pretty severe latex allergy. Her only conclusion was that it might be my catheter, and I told her that we sure weren't taking it out to check it now. She gave my IV a shot of something about 30 times stronger than benadryl, and I felt immediate relief. She warned me that I might feel sleepy, and I thought "Um, sleepier than going on 3 hours of sleep?" But I didn't. I just smiled and nodded. Not even 5 minutes later, I started feeling a sensation that I don't want to go into excessive detail about, but I basically thought my water broke. Cody threw the blanket back to check, and I knew by the look on his face that my water wasn't what I was feeling. My mom ran to find a nurse, and all I could do was lay in the bed and pray. I felt the blood start gushing again right about the time the steroid filled benadryl kicked in. It was a surreal moment because I couldn't decide if it was the medicine or blood loss that was making me feel sleepy. I fought with my entire being to stay awake. The nurse came in, changed my bedding, told me to relax, and had me watch Ella's heartbeat. No changes. Her sweet tiny heart never slowed, skipped a beat, or accelerated. The nurse assured me that it was because my cervix was irritated, and it likely shifted back toward where it needed to be, causing a bleed. I told her I was feeling sleepy, and she smiled and said "Then go to sleep." I prayed that the Lord would knock me out for the next hour and a half, as I couldn't stay there and think about the situation. He sure answered that prayer. Apparently during that time, Ella woke up and started moving all around my stomach. Nurses kept coming in and adjusting the fetal monitor because she kept disappearing from the radar. It was apparently a panic filled hour for those aware of the circumstances, but I was blissfully unaware. The anesthesiologist came in and started talking to me about the surgery, but I couldn't focus on his words. I knew it was go time, but I couldn't make myself wake up. It was nice to be so laid back about it all, but frustrating that I felt too drugged up to really absorb what was happening.

 They wheeled me into the O.R. and my body started quivering. I was assured that hormones were causing the problem and everything would be fine. Cody came in and I immediately felt the quivers cease. It was a wonderful feeling to know that just the sight of him could steady me. I was still feeling overwhelmingly sleepy, and only snapped out of it when the anesthesiologist said "Since they've already made all of the major cuts, I'm going to assume that you're not feeling anything." I focused in on the weird sensations on the other side of the curtain, and while it's not something I would do everyday, it really did feel cool. I heard them count to three and both doctors started shoving my daughter out of my ribs. They were both shaking because of how hard they were pushing, and I felt it as soon as they finally unwedged her. About 30 seconds later, I heard him say "Cody, get your camera" and watched Cody's face move from anxious to a state of awe. He kept saying "Oh my Gosh. Oh my Gosh. Kaylea... Oh my Gosh." My husband fell in love with my daughter and I was blessed enough to watch it happen from my side of the curtain. Of course, I blame the drugs, but all I could say was "Is she bald?!" and Cody laughed. "No, Kay. She's not bald at all." They whisked her by me and over to the table so that they could get the fluid out of her lungs. A short time later, I heard a sweet baby cough and a whimper. I smiled, felt the tears well up, and thanked God for her life. They let Cody hold her, but sat him down behind me, so I still couldn't see her. They whisked her to the nursery to start oxygen (Which she didn't even need) and took Cody with them. I was left to listen to the doctor's talk about their weekend plans while they stitched me up, and then I was wheeled to recovery. The quivering started again, and it freaked everyone out. I had to assure them I wasn't seizing and it was apparently my body's response to the birth. Cody came in and showed me pictures of a tiny baby with a ton of hair, and my heart was full. I encouraged him to go and see his tiny baby, and I only had to encourage him once. People filed in and out of the room over the next half hour, and then I was taken to my post-partum room. About 15 minutes later, they wheeled my tiny baby in, and I almost clawed the nurse's eyes out when she made me go through a long list of do's and don'ts before she would let me hold her. Part of me wanted to scream "LEAVE, DOOFUS!"... but I didn't.

After the world's longest (and lamest) speech, she placed a baby in my arms. I looked down at her tiny face and felt closer to the Lord than I ever have in my life. I couldn't form words, and I think I said "Hey!" about 30 times. My heart was racing, my cheeks were blushing, and I was completely in love. Of course, Ella took the opportunity to let out a giant scream, and reality settled back in. I looked over at my husband and fell in love with him in a different way. I was indubitably the farthest thing from his mind, because all he could do was kiss our baby and say "Daddy loves you so much," but I didn't mind. The pieces from the past 9 months fell into place. Every ache, every hurt, every hormone, every tear-filled evening during the first trimester, every stretch mark, every pound gained, and every MOMENT of the pregnancy made sense. It was the greatest sacrifice I've ever made for another person, but looking into the eyes of something that was made out of love was overwhelmingly wonderful. I had waited anxiously to see what sort of creature Cody and I's genes would form, and instead of cringing, I saw the most beautiful face looking back up at us. I always kind of knew that even if she looked like Smeagle, I would think she was wonderful, but I can say with certainty that she is absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I look into her eyes and see her Daddy's staring back. She smiles (I refuse to believe that it's gas) and I see a dimple that my Dad and I both have. Her tiny toes are just as funny looking as they were on the ultrasound, and even though they probably won't be very pretty when she's older, they're cute now. I don't even have to mention how completely perfect her hair is. It blows me away every time I look at pictures.

I see the Lord's design in every facet of her being, and my heart races when I consider the times that I thought we might not see a baby Gaines. Our hearts are full of love, and we believe more than ever that the Lord is good, and that he's super creative. I am certain that we serve a God who really does want good things for us, even if our timing doesn't line up with his. I see now that the journey to get here was hard, but I don't think I was ready for how drastic and life changing the process would be this side of a year ago. It sounds so cliche to say, but your world really does change overnight. I went from arrogantly assuming that parenthood was the reward for 9 months of work, but I think it's better to warn you that pregnancy is the easy part. After the baby is here, you don't care about anything else but their well being, health, and general happiness. Sometimes, it's easy to see that they're content. Other times, you feel so helpless that you cry with them in the wee hours of the morning. The difference between the two phases is that in pregnancy, you're sacrificing your body for a tiny stranger. In parenthood, you're happily sacrificing your sanity to make sure that your child is provided for. It's the hardest, most exhausting, sometimes even the most stressful thing I've ever done. But it's also the second greatest thing I've ever done in my life. The first was marrying Cody. I know our lives will never be the same, and I probably won't ever fall into a deep sleep again, but man, when I look at her baby face, I know it's worth it all.

 

That pretty much sums up her arrival. I plan to blog about Post-partum and things I wish I had known, but that's a different story for a different time. I also plan to continue blogging about Ella's life, but I'm only promising to do so once a month. I'll be consistent with it though, I promise. I guess I should sign off of this party now, because I hear a baby stirring, which means that it's almost time for Gaines Family Dairy to open. See ya later!

Large Deflating Marge Out.