Tuesday, September 4, 2012

35 weeks, and a little something extra...

See that little beauty?  That's Little Miss Olivia Elizabeth.  Lauren had her baby!  After about 24 hours, Olivia made her way into the world via c-section, and we all rejoiced at her coming.  However today, I'm sad because every week since the beginning of our pregnancies, Lauren has wished me happy "one more week"...and today she did not wish me one.  Perhaps she's preoccupied?  ; )

We think that Liv is either a) frustrated from the ordeal she just went through after being labored for more than a day and then just being taken c-section or b) mad because she has to wear that stupid hat.  It's any one's guess.

My sweet boy is 35 weeks today.  How come I feel like the even weeks are more impressive than the odd ones?  I say 35 weeks with shame, but 34?  Now THAT'S a week worth shouting from the rooftops.  Tomorrow is my checkup, and then every week until the big day.

I'd like to say that I'm prepared for labor.  I've been through the classes.  I practice my breathing and my yoga ball and Andy knows all the right positions and what to say and not to say.  I'd like to say that I've been through all the scenarios, and I understand how to deal with the pain.  But I also know that it's nothing that I could ever imagine.

Andy and I made great strides a few weeks ago when he said to me in all sincerity- I respect your decision to have or not have an epidural.  Before this his tune was, "You're going to get one.  Just get one.  Everyone I've talked to had one.  Just get one."  And now suddenly he's supporting me.  Now let me make it clear- I'm not saying "no" to drugs.  I am saying "yes" to being in control of my labor.  I want to feel what women have been feeling for centuries.  It's my right of passage.  It's my turn to write a war story.

And speaking of husband- mine is being INCREDIBLE lately.  In fact, when Lauren was in about hour 12 of labor, I wanted him to go to her and help her through those last few centimeters of dilation and get that baby out.  He took this picture of me:

And then he told me I looked really beautiful in it.  I'm exhausted and sweaty and have stuff spilled all over my belly...but I looked really beautiful to him.  In fact, at the even we were at when he took that picture, I couldn't scoot my chair in any more, so everyone at the table scooted the table toward me.

I woke up last night to his hand on my belly.  Just like a father/protector.  He LOVES his son. 

Eh, I guess 35 weeks isn't so mundane after all.