Happy heart, sad vagina

I might not get too much written tonight.  There is an amazingly perfect handsomely adorable newborn on my lap and I cannot stop kissing him long enough to type a full sentence.  Newborns are magical miracle healing packs.  Hold close at all times for maximum effect.  And I need the maximum effect, because my vagina is very sad.  But my heart is so so happy.

Our baby Owen has finally arrived.  Here's the story.

Friday was a regular day pretty much the same as the four preceding it.  Bob practiced his diaper changing in anticipation of baby brother's arrival.

Here's the last photo taken of Bob as an only child.  (Man I need to give that boy another haircut.)

I put Bobby to bed, and shortly thereafter started feeling some contractions.  We started timing them around 10:00 -- anywhere from 3-10 minutes apart for the next hour or two, not too intense. Before long the contractions were coming every three minutes and I was starting to feel them a bit.  I called my mom to come over and Ben and I were on our way to the hospital around 1am.  Things progressed quickly from this...

to this...

It all happened way too quickly for any kind of drugs, and let me just say that I pretty much handled it like a champ.  I dropped just one f-bomb and let out just a couple of yells and other than that I was calm cool and collected.  Or something close to it.  Can't you just see the joy on my face when the 7 pound, 14 ouncer popped out at 3:06 am?

When I first saw my boy I made a loving remark about his appearance resembling a homely purple troll... lucky for him he's gotten cuter every minute since he was born.  Here he is: Owen Clarke Burgess.

Between the two, let's be honest, labor with an epidural is a lot more fun than labor without one -- but still I'm glad I was forced to go "natural" the second time around.  It was a totally different experience.  This time I felt much more in tune with what was happening with my body; I really felt where the baby was coming from and what I was doing to push him out.  ("Poop that baby out!" the doctor kept yelling.)  But when I had the epidural I felt much more in tune with everything else that was happening; I felt more present in the room because I didn't have to focus solely on my pain.  Bobby's head I watched emerge; Owen's head I reached down and felt.  The best part about the epidural I'd say is that when it's all over you can just be happy holding your new baby, completely unaware of all that's going on down below.  This time around I felt it all, and I felt terrible for Owen because I kept wincing at the pain and convulsing with the shivers and maybe using a four letter word or two.

But despite all that, it was perfect.  What is more perfect than finally meeting your healthy newborn babe face to face?

Nothing, that's what.

The hospital stay was nice and relaxing -- we had a quiet room at the end of the hall and all the nurses were wonderful.  Bob was super excited to wear his new big brother shirt and to give Owen his gift -- a blankie and two suckies.  He introduced himself to his baby brother, and then he basically just wanted to terrorize the hospital room -- playing under the bed, trying to use the phone, touching the soiled linen bag...

He liked climbing up onto the bed with Owen and me but had trouble being as calm and gentle as he needed to be.

A "tiny circle" of ice cream is good for ten minutes of peace, as long as you don't mind the chocolate mess.



Owen was a little angel in the hospital.  We heard a lot of crying coming from next door but our baby hardly made a peep.  Except, that is, when they strapped him down for his circumcision -- he screamed and puked and pooped all over the place and the twenty year old obstetrician who did the dirty deed seemed very concerned, but my question is, doesn't every poor baby boy react that way?

I spent some time alone with Owen while Ben went home to put Bob down for naps and bedtime.  Bedtime was the hard one for me.  Ben and Bob and Mom and Big Gram were all visiting, and then they all left, and even though I had a little cherub for company, I got pretty lonely pretty quick.  Being in that hospital room all alone made me miss my Gram so much.  I thought about how she must have felt when we all went home for the night.  To make matters worse there was absolutely nothing on tv other than Keeping Up Appearances, which I only watch with Gram.  So I watched it, and let myself be sad a little.  I was a little weepy also because it was the first night of bob's life that I wasn't there to put him to bed.  And even though I knew we could both handle it, and even though I know I have plenty of love to go around, my heart broke a little bit because our special relationship of mother and only son had ended.  Things will be different from now on.  Different, but still amazingly wonderful.  To distract myself from all my sad thoughts I focused on the new beauty in my life and had a little hospital basinette photo shoot.

Less than a day old.  What preciousness.

This little pup is the best sleeper so far.

Our attempts at a family photo the next day...

Owen and I got some rest while we waited the requisite four hours after his circumcision and Ben and Bob went home for naptime.  Then we watched the end of the Patriots game (lucky timing for Ben since we don't have cable at home) and I ate some lemon dill salmon and we went home with our new little boy.

Bob was waiting with Grandmother when we got home.  He gave Owen a warm welcome, running up and covering his face with his blankie and then trying to get me to open up the suckies.  After Owen was out of his car seat Bob said, "Tan I hold him?"  Music to mom and dad's ears.

Here's the face that sums up how I feel and the inspiration for the title of this post -- happy heart, sad vagina.  I popped a suture or two after I got home and let's just say, things haven't been so pleasant since then.  At least not in my netherregions.

I've got lots more photos of course, but that should hold you all over for now, right?

We're feeling happy and blessed.  All of us except my va-jay-jay that is.

Lately...

Lately we've had really kinda lame weather, cold but no snow, just grayness.  Until a few days ago -- got a nice hammering and Bob got to try out the snowsuit we bought after it snowed once in October.  All he wanted was a "didheh" (a "digger") for scooping up snow like dad.

His other favorite is "oof poofin" into the snow.

Also snowball fights.  "I'm gonna snowball fight YOU!" he says.

Lately I've been spending more time than usual watching bobby sleep.  Because I know I won't have as much time for that once baby brother is born.  Because he is so absolutely precious my heart can hardly handle it.  Because my little brother is in jail again and i feel this overwhelming need to just pray over my boy -- that God will keep him safe and make big plans for him and prepare him for those plans -- and also to pray for me -- that I will be the best mother to him that I can be, nurturing his little heart to be one that is focused on others and his little mind to be one that is fixed on what is right.

Lately we've been walking the mall for no real good reason, just for the fun and mild exercise of it.  Bob sprints through the whole place searching for the rides; luckily he doesn't care about turning them on -- he just climbs in and out of every single one and we don't waste a single quarter.  (I forgot that one of the mall security guards once told me he could arrest me for taking photos in the mall... so no one tell on me, please.)

Lately we're very into "family popcorn and yahtzee time."  For about a week bob wanted popcorn for every single meal.  Thank goodness that wore off.

Lately Bob's been known as "Skunky Rocker" (he saw it on Wonder Pets) and he loves to rock out on his guitar and play Guitar Hero.

Lately we've been out to eat at the Chinese buffet a couple of times.  It's our favorite.  It's especially the best for Bob.  Just $1.99 and he eats tons of food because he loves chinese so much -- especially the vegetables which is a bonus -- plus fruit and ice cream for dessert.  Can't be beat.  He read his own fortune out loud for the first time, too -- "A happy life is just ahead for you" or something like that.

Lately Bob's very friendly with strangers.  A few nights ago at the buffet when we were all done eating we let him "hop away on the little rectangles" for a bit and he had a conversation a couple of tables down that went something like this:
Bob: "Adios!"
Guy: "I see you!" (I don't think the guy understood bob's espanol.)  "What's your name?"
"Bobby.  What's Mommy's name?"
"I don't know."
"Angie.  My mom has a baby in her beh-wey."
"Oh.  Did you eat a good supper?"
"Yeah.  But he is eatin ice cream."  (pointing to the guy's son)
"Yes, he is.  Are you looking for someone?"
"My mom's wight oveh vey-ah.  Bye!"

Lately we've been trying to encourage potty use.  I can't say that it's going particularly well.

Lately we've been monitoring this tree that the beavers are working on.  Beavers are nuts.

All of a sudden Bob dropped to the ground -- "I'm gonna catch a beaveh!"

And most of all, lately I've been waiting not so patiently for my body to oust this baby.  Man, the last couple of weeks are hard -- everything's pretty much all ready to go, and we're just waiting and prepping and re-prepping Bob, and every day wondering, will this be the day?  I was due on Saturday; Bob came a week late; so, maybe I should try not to think about it until the weekend?  I'm ready.  Let's do this.

Christmastime

The end of December:

Christmastime is officially over, I suppose -- except that I'm still working on my super long family slideshow dvd.  It's hard this time around.  Being our last year with Gram, this flick's going to be a tear jerker for certain.  I can't even test out songs without getting all choked up.

There was certainly a hole this Christmas.  I thought we'd all spend the afternoon at Gram's this one last year like we always do, like I have every Christmas for my entire life.  Crowded house filled with all the crazy people that make up the family talking in their loud voices, plus the stragglers who were brought along, and all the kids opening presents and playing with new toys and giving lots of hugs and kisses.  Milling around outside by the back door in the freezing cold, drinking beers and smoking cigarettes (not me) and talking and laughing.  Eating lots of yummy pie and divvying up the leftovers at the end of the night.  Just everyone being together that one day of the year -- even if we don't do anything fancy, and even if, this year, our Gram was there only in spirit.  But in the end it didn't happen -- no one wanted to cook or something.  Or else Gram really was the only thing holding us all together, as I've always feared.  It hurts my heart to think about.

But a lot of this is just sinking in now, in these post-Christmas, pre-New Year's days of reflection.  On Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day itself, I was very much wrapped up in my own little family's joy.

Christmas Eve we spent getting some last minute items together, like food for the fridge.  We went to the service at church that evening, came home and had supper and got Bobby ready for bed.  And then proceeded to let him stay up way too late because my cousins Nate and Erica and my little brother James came over.  After Bob went to bed, close to 11:00, all us "grownups" played Yahtzee and dominoes and ate lots of snacks.  And then somewhere around 3:00am Ben had finished building Bobby's train table and we all helped assemble the track and buildings.  And then somewhere around 4:00 everyone left, and finally around 5:00 I went to sleep, and Ben was still up a little longer wrapping my presents.

...  A couple of weeks later, when I finally return:

I haven't made time to write lately... mainly because:
1) I'm wicked pregnant and pregnant ladies need their rest and so I usually spend the majority of bob's naptime napping myself, and that's normally one of my prime blog-times;
2) Ben and I are a little addicted lately to watching Cheers reruns and playing Yahtzee after bob goes to bed, and that's another of my prime blog times;
3) Due to number 1 above I can't really stay up late and smile in the morning, and "late" is probably my very most prime blog time.
See, I'm already too tired for this and barely making sense.
But I'm making a point to carve out a few minutes to sit here and type, because let's face it, I could go into labor at any moment.  It could happen tonight.  You never know.

I've felt this way for the past few days -- just very aware that it could be any day now that I become a mother of two.  I've let myself be very present with bobby -- staying away from the computer and reading even more books than usual before bedtime and letting him stay up late and getting in the tub with him and cherishing every word he says.  Because even though my second son is taking a lot of my energy at this point, he doesn't take all that much of my attention, and soon that'll change.  I guess I'm a little sentimental about this period of life where my first is my only baby.  Not that I'm not excited -- oh man I don't know if I can get any more excited!

Bobby's pretty darn excited, too -- and I think he totally gets it.  He's going to be a great brother, I know.  He's such a little tender heart.

...

I did want to finish writing about Christmas...

Luckily Bob slept in late on Christmas morning -- til 9:45 I think.  We went in to get him from his crib and brought him out and he was thrilled to see the train town all set up in front of the tree.  He got right into it and wasn't all that interested in opening any packages.  The first thing he opened was socks, so after that it was tough to get him to open anything, but after he got a couple of things he liked he started to catch on to the idea of presents.

I didn't take any photos because I had the videocam out instead.  Here's one from late Christmas night:

For days Bob could hardly sleep because he was so excited about the train table.  He'd wake up early in the morning and when I'd walk into his room he'd be standing at the crib rail; "May I can go see that big pwesent?  Yes, I can!"  Then he'd sprint across the house and jump right in where he left off.

So, Christmas was cute.

And the next few weeks are fixin to get even cuter I'm pretty sure.  Want a shot of my ginormous belly?  Here you have it...

Ok... up way too late.  G'nite.