The End, The Beginning- Part II

When they finally came to get me and told me that I could go back and see you, I was sufficiently nervous. The cool of the "doctor posing" had worn off, and a half an hour had gone by. I had pretty much sweated through my scrubs and shirt, wringing my hands and pacing, waiting to be taken to the OR. I was wondering what a "restricted pelvis" really meant and if there was any way that they could have known from the get-go that your Mom has one so she wouldn't have had to under go so much pain.

But when I walked in and saw your mother's face, and all the doctors hovering over her behind a partition, I knew everything was going to be okay.

The lead me right to your Mom's side, and I sat down next to her and started playing with her hair.

Your Mom started complaining that her oxygen flowing in from her mask smelled funny. The anesthesiologist motioned to me that it wasn't her oxygen mask at all making the smell. So, I covered and told your Mom that the smell was in fact, me. But, truthfully, that smell was them cutting through your Mom's tissue with the cauterizer flame thrower thing making the final incisions.

Your Mom and I chatted some nebulous drugged-up pillow talk, and I encouraged her as the doctors tinkered away.

Within moments the anesthesiologist said, "Dad, get your camera ready, get ready, because here he comes."

I stood up, away from your Mother's side and peered over the partition, I don't recall seeing any blood or entrails or anything, all I remember was seeing your purple, hairy head being lifted from your Mom's body.

I snapped a picture.

The nurse told me to take a picture of the time, for that was the time you were born.

And then they took you away to get your lungs cleaned out, get your body cleaned off and weigh you.

The second your Mom heard your voice, your cry, she started crying too. I was in awe. We both were so happy that you were here, that finally, after all this time, we'd finally be able to meet our son,

Aidan Powell Weinstein!

Your Mom was so relieved, and I kept peaking around the partition to get a glimpse at you. Finally, they called my name: "Daddy, come over here and meet your son!"

They didn't need to ask me twice. I walked over to the baby cleaning station to meet you. You were pretty upset at being removed from such a nice, warm belly and were a bit traumatized from the hour and a half of labor (you had a boo-boo on your head from the hour of bone on bone pushing), you kind of looked like a purple, angry old man.

You screamed bloody murder. You had a decent coat of hair. You did a dead-on Yoda impersonation:

And you were beautiful, and perfect, and all we could have ever dreamed for.

You held my hand.

I'm a Daddy now.

Finally, they let you meet your Mommy. She was so glad to see you and started talking to you immediately. She says that you recognized our voices, because once we started talking, you calmed down. I sang our lullaby a little, your Mom (still heavily medicated) told you to not worry, because "Mommy's cross-eyed too" (you were cross eyed because babies- especially 3 minute old ones- can't focus their eyes).

It was among the sweetest moments I've ever felt. The three of us sat there as they sewed your Mom back together again. Our first moments as a family. And since I'm a Dad now, I documented part of the moment on video:

"I know, it was tough for Mommy too. But we did it. We did it."

Did it, you guys did. Soon enough they had finished your Mom's surgery and the three of us could go back to room 7, as a family: Aaron, Holly and Aidan.

Your Mom seemed to radiate happiness as she got to hold you in her arms and just look at your for the first time.

And you seemed to know us before, as if we'd met already.

Although there was never really anything to worry about, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

We were all there safe and sound, sound and safe. You had ten fingers and ten toes, two ears, two eyes and a nose. Your mother's lips, my sideburns, and maybe my eyes.

Your eyes were almost cobalt blue, though they may not stay.

Your head was a bit of a cone, though it's already back to being nice and round.

Your ears were a bit flattened from the trauma, though their perking up.

You have your mother's chin and eyebrows.

And you might have my nose, though that doesn't go away without surgery.

Still to this day, we don't know quite who you look like. I think that's because you look exactly like yourself, Aidan.

That evening you got to meet lots of cool people too: Nannah and Baba, Aunt Sham, Mimi and Pops. And as the days rolled on, you met tons of other people too: your unofficial aunts and uncles, your real uncle, your Godparents, your Great Grandma and unofficial Great Great Grandma.

But for that night, even though you had to go to the nursery for two hours to get nice and warmed up, it felt like you, me and your Mother were the only ones in the universe. You were no longer a fraction; our immediate family was now 3 (plus 2 dogs). You are our son, and we are your parents. This journal is no longer a pregnancy journal, but now a baby diary...a diary about you, Aidan, and how you've changed all of our lives for the better.

We have a lot to learn. It will be very exciting.

Welcome to the world, Aidan Powell Weinstein! Born on February 27, 2010 at 5:51 pm. 7 lbs, 1 ounce. 20 inches tall. Welcome to the world!

I hear you crying. I'm going to go hold you now!

The End, The Beginning: Part I

Sorry to keep you waiting; but I just changed a dirty dirty diaper and now have a brief moment to tell you the rest of the story of your birth!

Your Mom contracted regularly throughout the wee hours of the morning. She was such a pro: no tears, no screaming, great breathing.

By 4 am your Mom was 4 centimeters dilated.

By 5 am your Mom was 5 centimeters dilated.

By 5 am your Mom was SOOOOO tired that she decided to get the epidural.

With the epidural administered by 5:10 am, your Mom felt "so much better" (She told me as a huge smile grew across her face). The labor would continue, but your Mom wouldn't feel the contractions.

Around 5:15 they wheeled in a cot for me to sleep on, and your Mom and I all decided to get a little sleep. I told you that I would get to SEE you in the morning! I wrote this in my BatJournal (yes, it's a journal I keep that came with the Dark Knight DVD):

"It's 5:15, and we are going to catch a little shut eye now. We will actually get to SEE you in the morning. As your mother dozes off to sleep, I'm in awe of what she's done and I can't wait to see what she'll do next."

At 8:30 in the morning we woke up and your mom was 6 cm dilated.

At 10:30, your Nannah came up and brought me two bagels to eat. Nannah stayed with us for the rest of the time.

At 11:30, they gave your mom a drug called Ptosin to help get you down into position.

At 12:43 the nurse returned from lunch and confirmed that your Mom's water had broken!

At 12:45 she confirmed that your Mom was 9 cm dilated and that your head was on her cervix. She estimated that you'd be here by 2:30!

I wrote: "HIGH FIVE! Holly is Smiling Big! You Dropped!"

At 1:02, your Mom reported feelings of pushing downward between her legs. Contractions push the feeling lower and lower.

At 1:35, Mimi and Pops arrive. Holly is given more epidural. There is no relation between these two events.

At 2:14, Your Mom dozes off. She can't keep her eyes open, but is in pain.

At 2:25, an anesthesiologist gives your Mom a drug that makes it feel like a cold trickle down her spine, numbing the spine pain. The nurse tells us that she's not even thinking of starting pushing for an hour.

At around 3:00, Mimi and Pops and Aunt Sham visit us in the Labor and Delivery Room. Aunt Shamsy brought your Mom flowers!

Then your Uncle Joe comes in too. But, he's quickly rushed out because at...

At 3:26 pm the Nurse says "Let's Push Out a Baby! It's Go time!"

Very exciting, and famous last words. After an hour and a half of hard, wonderful pushing and your Mom nearly popped her eyeballs out of her sockets, you had progressed to two clicks below crowning. You were sunny side up (meaning face up), making things a little bit more difficult, since babies are supposed to be born face down. But your Mom still pushed like an ace, your Nannah and I holding her legs and coaching her through it. I only got yelled at once, Hollywood style.

The nurse kept telling your Mom to bring her chin to her chest, and your Mom kept not doing that. So in between counting and cheering and encouraging I would say "Chin, Chin, Chin, 4, 5, 6, Chin, Chin, Chin."

After about 20 minutes of that, between painful contractions, your Mom looked at me and said:

"DON'T SAY CHIN!"

But anyway, after an hour and a half of pushing, and ups and downs of being told that the nurse didn't think this was going to happen and that she DID think it was going to happen vaginally, she called in Dr. Bertrand (Dr. Hagood wasn't on call; Dr. Bertrand is super awesome).

Dr. Bertrand took a quick assessment, saw the bruising and swelling from all your Mom's pushing, touched your head and pushed you all the way back up into your Mom's belly with no effort. The pushing and labor wasn't getting us anywhere.

Dr. Bertand told us matter-of-factly: "look, you can push and push for 4 or 5 more hours and this baby might come out vaginally, and could cause damage to Mommy and Baby. We're doing a C-section."

So, around 5:00 the started prepping your Mom very quickly for the C-Section. And within minutes she was swept away into another room, and I was told to put this dorky outfit on and wait.

So I put it on...

And I waited... ready to dive into action

7,6,5,4,3,2,1 - Happy New Baby!

So, as it turns out, those Friday contractions were right on! I don't want to spoil this for you, but, you were born on February 27, 2010 at 5:51 pm in the evening! A full week ahead of your due date, but right on time-- because we just couldn't wait to meet you any longer.

It was a pretty interesting Friday evening and Saturday morning leading up to that big event though.

Your Mom and I were pretty convinced that the contractions would be slow and infrequent through the weekend, so we went ahead and had dinner and played games with your Godparents on Friday night.

All through dinner, your Mom had infrequent but pretty powerful contractions. But, when we asked her if we should go home, she said "No, they're not that bad." As it turns out, they WERE pretty serious, but your Mom really, really wanted to go to Pink Berry.

She enjoyed her fro-yo and then we retired back to Casa de Weinstein for some Boom Blox (that's a video game on this antique called a Nintendo Wii).

Around 9:00, your Mom decided that the contractions were getting close enough together to warrant doing some timing. At that point, I started a page in my journal keeping track of the contractions.

The rest of the evening and the next 20 hours or so went a bit like this:

Contractions at :

• 8:45
• 8:56
• 9:06
• 9:17
• 9:29
• 9:37
• 9:48
• 9:51
• 9:55
• 10:00
  

Etc, etc, etc...

As the contractions go closer and closer together, we started to realize that this was actually going to go down...and soon.

So your Mom managed her contractions while I became a whirling dervish and cleaned the kitchen, finished packing THE bag, getting pillows together and keeping a list of the contractions.

I also took the last known picture of your Mom pregnant with you in the wee hours of Saturday morning, making it officially the 39th week picture.


Not too shabby, considering that we started out like this, on week 8:

As February 26th turned into February 27, your Mom called the doctor to tell her what was happening. The doctor recommended that we stay at home as long as possible to be as comfortable as possible. We abided...and tried to hang on as long as possible.

So we tried to get some sleep. I blew up the air mattress and we turned out the lights. With each contraction, I'd turn on a flashlight, note the time and watch in awe as your Mom muscled through. This lasted for 2 contractions.

Then we decided to watch some TV, and coast through the contractions. This lasted for 2 contractions.

Concurrently, around midnight your Mom started rating the contractions with Tourrettes-like finesse :

12:33 was "BAD"
12:44 was "getting stronger"
12:59 was "Worse! JESUS!"
and 1:10 am was "Jimminy Christmas!"

At 1:24 am we left for the hospital. I hit every bump on the road accidentally. But, I drove safely and we got there safely, if not a little painfully.

At 2:18 am we were checked into triage unit and it was confirmed that she was dilated 3-4 centimeters.

I asked the nurse if we were admitted to the hospital. She said "Definitely."

So, off to Room 7 we went, where your Mom was hooked up to machinery and continued having stronger and stronger contractions, all without medicine, as per her wishes.

How does this story end? Well, we already know the beautiful end result.

But for the thrilling conclusion, you'll have to tune back in later.

To be continued...as we waited for you:

8: Celebrate (Almost)

Remind me some day to tell you about the day where your Mom had about 4 painful contractions before noon and then I thought today would be the day to celebrate, so I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off all day at work and then, as it turned out, after your Mom's regularly scheduled doctor's appointment, that she was still 1.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced.

Oh wait, that was today? Oh yeah, it was!

But, alas, it doesn't look like today is the day!

But, you could be here any day now! We're officially on Baby Watch: 2010!

She's just having another contraction as I write this!

9. Earth: A Precusor

In honor of the fact that in week 38 of the pregnancy, you only have NINE days left until your due date, I wanted to let you know of 9 things that I really think you'll like about being a human being on earth.

9. Smelling Smells- The nose knows, and as you know, when a nose is heightened - like your mother's was- or deadend -like mine was- things are just kinda out of whack. But there's nothing better than smelling pancakes cooking in the morning, or the smell of freshly cut grass, or popcorn at the movies. Although there are some bad smells which, lets face it, you'll probably produce quite a few of as a baby, smelling is pretty much where it's at.

8. Colors- You probably haven't seen much of any colors, since color needs light and there's no light in the belly except when I shined a flashlight on you (sorry about that!) I'm particularly fond of blue and green. Your Mom like purple and blue. What are your favorite colors going to be?

7. Breathing- I simply can't say enough about breathing air. When you're not doing it, you tend to miss it quite quickly. It's pretty awesome.

6. The sky- I know that your Mom's ribs are about the limit of where you can go upwards now. But, we have a saying here on earth: "the sky's the limit." It's that big bluish grayish thing up above us and it often contains clouds, birds, and celestial bodies. Lots of people want to go up in the sky, but even when you're up in it in an airplane, there's still more sky above you. I really think you'll like the sky.


5. Grandparents - You're a pretty lucky guy! You're gonna have all four grandparents in close proximity. AND you have a set of great grandparents too. From what I know, Grandparents are pretty awesome: they get you stuff, change your diapers, babysit with no notice and generally love everything you do...even if it's smelly. You're going to like your Nannah, Baba, Mimi and Pops. And your Great Grandma and Great Grandpa too! And, on top of Grandparents, you have tons of Aunts and Uncles too!


4. Dogs (and other, minor animals)- What's better than having 4 grandparents? Having 2 dogs! That's an old saying we have here on earth as well. But you're so lucky that you have both! Dogs are kinda smelly, kinda annoying and they make really good lap warmers. They love to play outside and love to sleep all day. Preston and Toby have been very curious about what's growing in your Mom's belly, and I think they'll be really surprised when you come out. But, we know that they'll love you..especially once you start leaving crumbs for them to eat everywhere!


3. Making noise- In space no one can hear you scream. That's a saying we have on earth about that thing above the sky (space). It's kind of true for you too: where you are no one CAN hear you make noise at all. Probably because you can't make noise yet! But the second you come out, you're gonna really get to test your vocal chords and cry, and scream and eventually giggle and gurgle and talk! I really like making noise, much to your Mother's chagrin, especially early in the morning.

2. Food- Now, for a long while you're not going to get to eat grown up food. All you're going to hopefully get is breast milk, and if that doesn't work out then Formula. I'm not sure how good any of those things taste, but I got to imagine they're better than being fed intravenously through a weird cord sticking out of your belly button. That's a bit too Matrix-y for me. Eventually though, you're gonna get to eat all sorts of things: bread, cookies, spaghetti, pizza, apples, grapes, bananas, water, noodles. Food is right up there with my favorite things in the world.

1. Parents- Okay, so this is the power of positive thinking. I'm sure there will be times when you won't be too happy with us, like on Shot day or when we ground you for God-knows-what. But, just so you know, whether you're mad at us or not, we're the two people on this planet who have pretty much been assigned to be your guides and show you around, let you kick the tires and eventually help you find your own little piece of Earth that's all yours. But up until that day, we're gonna be there for you. It's pretty sweet: we're human beings, like you, but we're bigger and have really big arms that are perfect for holding you and rocking you and bathing you. We have really big heads and mouths that we can use to make faces at you and talk to you and teach you things about stuff (since we KNOW you're going to like stuff!). We have cars, and those will come in handy to get you places. Plus, we already have this really awesome thing for you called unconditional love...and we can't wait for you to come and meet you so we can show what that one's all about!


So, there's kind of a crash course on life on earth. It's pretty cool and, in 9 days (give or take a few), you're going to get to see it for yourself! And we can't WAIT for you to get that opportunity!

10: Play Bow

Only 10 days until your due date!

And with 10 days until your big debut, you're already taking a big bow!

Last night while we were thinking about going to bed, but still sitting on the couch just talking about how we couldn't believe that you'd be here in about 10 days and just scratching our heads in awe of this whole situation and the new adventure we're about to embark upon, you decided to do a bit of redecorating.

All of a sudden, your mom's semi-spherical stomach started rolling and growing in weird areas and then, boom, you were done moving. Your mom's tummy looked more like a loaf of bread- a solid rectangular misshapen mass type thing.



We finally figured out that the protrusion was none other than your tushy, sticking high up near your Mom's ribs. But, unlike most of your bizarre movements like that, this one remained put until your Mom decided to lay down. We're talking like over 5 minutes here. What were you doing with your butt high in the air?

When dogs do this, it's called a Play Bow.

When babies do this, I'm not too sure what it's called. Maybe you were just trying to get a new perspective on things, maybe you were just stretching your leg muscles, maybe it was your head and you're trying to tunnel out. Who knows?

But it sure was interesting to see and feel.

Don't worry, buddy, soon enough the pregnancy will finally be over and you can take a real bow out here in the real world...even if you want to bow with your tush high in the sky.

Some Strong Words For You

Last night when I was doing some research on the internet, I came across a parenting study that I'd never heard of.

Check it out: "Twin studies show that language development is as much as 50 percent genetic, yet researchers say that the single biggest determinant in a child's language acquisition is exposure to language. Infants who have more early language exposure score higher in IQ tests, perform better academically and are more socially competent. Apparently, every word counts. According to a study done by Dr. Betty Hart and Dr. Todd Ridley, babies who heard an average of 2,100 words per hour scored higher on standardized tests at age 3 than did children whose parents hadn't been as verbal."

So we don't really care about test scores or anything like that, nor are we even looking forward 3 years or even to your first spoken words. We just want you to be a healthy kiddo. And basically the study says that the more a baby is spoken to directly, the better his or her neural development will be. That can include vocabulary later on, but it's just good for the wiring up front. And, really, I just want an excuse to tell you EVERYTHING!

The study recommends that a baby have 30,000 words spoken to them every day!


That sounds like an awful lot, but when you come out, we're gonna have no problem talking to you! And anyway, that's only 20 words per minute. But, of course we can't talk to you 24 hours a day.

I tried doing this once to your mother and she did not approve.


At any rate though, even though we talk to you some while you're in the belly, and sing to you as well, expect to have your ears chewed off (not literally, of course; we don't own a dingo).

If there's one thing your Dad is good at, it's talking. I can talk so well that I even talk in my sleep!

Your Mom and I are going to read to you, narrate what's going on to you and just tell you everything about the world.

It'll be a one sided conversation at first, well, at least on the verbal front. But it will be so much fun just to chat with you face to face.

In no more that 18 days (and more likely somewhere around 11 days), we'll be able to have our first tete a tete, and I can hardly wait.

I hope you like hearing me and your Mom talk, because you're about to get an earful of about 30,000 words a day! (and don't worry, because I can do 30,000 in my sleep!)

The Purty Dozen

You're 38 weeks and 2 days along!

Do you know what that means you have in common with this?

And this?

And this?

And this?

That's right: a dozen.

You are twelve days away from your due date, and that number '12' never sounded so 'purty!'

We are still in awe that you will be here in 12 days (or fewer (or in all actuality, in 19 days)).

Your Mom and I keep saying goofy things to eachother like,

"You're a Mom"

"You're a Dad"

"I'm going to have a son"

"I'm hungry"

Okay, so the last one wasn't really related, but you get the idea. We're just still pretty flabbergasted that in a dozen days or so you will be here to change our lives forever! In a dozen days (or so) we are going to embark on the next biggest adveture of our lives!

We've really got the place looking good for you. This weekend we rearranged some furniture and moved your cradle into our bedroom, organized the cupboard in your bathroom, put batteries in your swing, loaded the labor playlist onto both Ipods and packed them and the ipod docker into our hospital bag, cleared off my camera's memory cards, picked out, bought and washed the outfit we're going to bring you home in and thought about putting your pack and play together.

Why didn't we actually put your pack and play together? Well, you gotta leave us something to do in the remaining 12 days!

Contractual Obligation

Over the past couple of days your Mom has started getting more and more defined contractions.

That means her uterus is beginning its spring training to shove you out into the world!

They're not too painful, and not too frequent according to your Mom.

But, since I worked from home yesterday, I got to witness a bunch of these in a row. She wasn't doubled over in pain, but the pain was noticeable.

She had to stop talking. Her eyes got wide. She rubbed her stomach. And in a few seconds the pain passed and the conversation resumed.

I think your Mom had at least 5 or 6 of these spread out all day yesterday, and a few less the day before.

Since neither of us will ever experience any birthing contractions, I have taken it upon myself to rank where this pain lies in a spectrum we can understand: From what I can tell, the pain factor of these early early "practice" contractions (called "Braxton Hicks Contractions") is somewhere between stubbing your toe and gettin punched in the stomach. (a note of disclosure: I've never been punched in the stomach)

But the pain is nowhere getting kicked in the marbles yet. I know this because her eyes didn't even well up with tears nor did she have to crumple up into a destroyed heap of human on the floor for a few minutes to recover. (a note of disclosure: I have been kicked in the marbles)



But, good news for all, I'm sure that the contractions when she actually does go into labor will definitely rival getting kicked in the family jewels. And then they'll begin to get bad.

And I'll be there to help your Mom cope through the pain, help her remember to breathe, hold her hand and do whatever she needs me to do. Heck even if I weren't contractually obligated to do so, I still would. (a note of disclosure: it IS a contractual obligation)

I will most definitely NOT stand over her laughing as she used to do when we were in High School after she had just kicked me in the marbles. (a note of disclosure: 1) Flirtation can take on some very bizarre forms. 2) The damage to said marbles must not have been to extensive because a) I can, to this day, sing some pretty low notes and b) you're a living, growing about-to-be-born kiddo.)

Inch by Inch (or CM by CM)

Good news! Dr. Hagood told your Mom yesterday that she has progressed to 1.5 centimeters dilation and still 50% effacement.

What does that mean?

Really, it means nothing!

You could be born tomorrow, or you could be born in 3 weeks!

But, the numbers are going up, so it looks like we're progressing!

The light at the end of the tunnel is getting bigger and bigger!

But, believe it or not, your Mom actually lost a pound. So, now she's down to 147-- but the Doctor said that's completely normal.

And, the moment of truth: here is your Mom at 37 weeks!

We can't believe that you're almost here!

Placemat Placement

I don't really buy into all of this stuff, but it's still kind of cool. Unless you're born in the next 2 days, you will be a PISCES on the Zodiac Calendar.

I'm a Capricorn- that means I'm a half goat half fish.

Your Mom is a Libra- that means she's scales.

And apparently goat fish plus scales equals...more fish!

Pisces is the "fish" from the sky, which is a water sign. A bit ironic, since your name means "Little Fire," but what can you do?

Apparently Pisces is two fish trying to eat each other's rear ends, just like Toby and Preston do.

I won't even go into all of the personality pros and cons of your sign, because, like I said before, I think we make our own destinies and that nothing is pre-written. But, you can always Google it anyway, so maybe I'll just put the personality pros up here, as encouragement.

According to Madame Zelda Astroplane, Pisces are...

- Compassionate
- Adaptable
- Accepting
- Devoted
- Imaginative

Those are some good qualities to have! I dont' think anyone born in any month would turn those down!

But, of course, everyone knows that if you're going to talk about birth signs, you have to give credence to the wisdom of the Chinese Zodiac Calendar restaurant placemat as well.

Each year is the year of a rotating assortment of animals and creatures. Your Mom was born in 1981 and she is a Rooster. I was born in 1982, the year of the dog. So, supposedly, me and everyone else born in 1982 have similar aspirations, characteristics, likes and dislikes. I think this is bogus because I know lots of '82ers and we're all different!

But, all that aside, let's see where your Egg Drop Soup will land on the Chinese Restaurant Placemat!

So Dog Plus Rooster Equals TIGER!

According to the placemat, the Chinese Zodiac Tiger is "sensitive, emotional and capable of great love. However, he has a tendency to get carried away and be stubborn about what he thinks is right; often seen as a "Hothead" or rebel. The sign shows he would be excellent as a boss, an explorer, a race car driver, or a matador."

Well, let me just say up front that you can be anything you want to be when you grow up...except a Matador or Race Car Driver. You can explore though, as long as you don't do any Bear Grylls type stuff (if he's not still alive when you read this, let me know and I'll explain).

I hope you're not too rebellious, though, and try to miss your Chinese Zodiac sign by staying in for an extra 9 months. First of all, 2011 is the year of the Rabbit, so that's not worth being rebellious for, and, secondly, the Doctor won't let you rebel for more than a week past your due date.

You're going to be a Tiger no matter what. And, unless you're born in the next two days (which it doesn't look like you're going to be), you're a fish too.

And for some reason, there is a picture of the Tiger/Fish duo online. As you'll find out, the internet is a wealth of information:

And you'd better not be too stubborn either! Apparently "during the journey out of the womb, baby will produce more stress hormones than any other time in life." So, between your Mom's pain and your stress hormones, you might to wait to be stubborn until your about, say, 18 years old.

But then again, I don't buy into this whole Zodiac stuff anyway (which makes it even more odd that I decided to write about it). Afterall, the Chinese Gender Predictor said you were going to be a girl, and we all know how correct that turned out to be!

Watermelon Waiting

You are now 37 weeks along! And that means you've reached the final stage of your fruit continuum.

That's right, buddy, you are now the size of a watermelon!

And, as a watermelon, that means two things:

1) Watch out for Gallagher.

2) You are "Ready" for birth.

Now, ready is sure a loaded term. But, basically, it means you could be born today with no complications. All you're doing for the next 3 weeks (or for how ever long you decide to remain in utero) is adding on baby fat, refining your blinking, and sucking, inhaling and exhaling (yup, you're still breathing in liquid!).

But, all that's really just practice! You're ready for the big show any day now.

And with that in mind, your Mom and I are trying to get "ready" too.

"Ready or not, here you come." Definitely, we know that's true.

But we still had a few more things to check off our lists to make us feel a little bit more ready.

So this weekend, we put together your stroller and unwrapped your car seat/infant carrier and installed it in the car! Seeing as how they won't let us take you home without the car seat, we thought it was a good thing to get done.

We also got down our big red duffle bag from the attic and started packing for our trip to the hospital. I got my change of socks and boxers and t-shirts all packed up. The toiletries are all ready to go: toothbrushes, toothpaste and (very important) deods. Your Mom is packing all her clothes and other necessities today, including some pretty cool long socks (which may be the first thing you see) and nursing tops.

This bag, of course, is a complete luxury. You can be born with or without it; but since this whole deal is about keeping your Mom as comfortable as possible, so you can be born as comfortably as possible, it's probably a good idea to get this Emergency Bag all packed and ready to go.

So, the bag is ready to go, as are you. And now we're just playing the waiting (until March) game.

And, surprisingly, an odd calm-before-the-storm mentality has settled over our household...as long as that creep with the moustache and the sledgehammer isn't lurking about (Gallagher, not Pops!)

Defcon 1: Snow and Centimeters

We knew it was coming. We knew it was going to hit Dallas. It does snow here every so often (and already did on Christmas!). But we didn't think it'd be like this! The weather outside may be frightful, but today was a great day!

Imagine when we woke up this morning for our weekly appointment with Dr. Hagood and saw this outside our window!


But, the snow didn't keep us from taking you to not one, but two doctor's appointments!

At the first appointment with Dr. Hagood, we got to hear your heartbeat again. I never get tired of hearing that sound. And then, your Mom asked Dr. Hagood if she could tell where you were oriented in her belly. So, with a few squeezes, she showed us where your head was (downward, well below your mom's bellybutton and near to the pelvic bone), where your tushy was (above the belly button) and even found your back and a couple of knees! So, you are in position for sure, but that doesn't mean you'll stay that way, nor does it mean you're ready to come out right now either.

We also found out that we were downgraded from Defcon 2 back to Defcon 1! That's right: your Mom is only 1 cm dilated, according to Dr. Hagood. It's not that your Mom has "closed back up," as far as we know. But, since last week we met with Dr. Richards and this week was with Dr. Hagood, they must just have two systems of measurement. But either way, we're 1 Centimeter dilated now.

Now, this actually isn't a downgrade and it actually doesn't mean anything as far as when you'll be coming. Someone 2 CM dilated today could give birth in 3 weeks; someone 1 cm dilated today could give birth tomorrow. On top of that, your mom is 50% effaced (meaning that the cervix has thinned by 50%). So really, this diagnosis doesn't really mean anything as far as WHEN you'll be coming. But it DOES mean that your Mom's body is readying itself for your arrival, which is good! We want the body to be as ready as the mind, for sure!

As the snow day marched on, the roads remained safe for driving, so we went to the next appointment and met Dr. Denison, potentially your pediatrician! We really liked Dr. Denison and the practice and office. They were playing "Finding Nemo" in the waiting room and have an antique barber chair for older kids to sit on while giving blood (it was a bit "Sweeney Todd", but you haven't seen that, so you won't be concerned). We may audition one more Pediatrician just to be safe. But Dr. Dension may be the man to be giving you lollipops for the next 15 years or so!

With the Doctor's appointments behind us, I knew I wasn't going to be venturing into the snow again this evening. So, with my last hurrah, my gloves on right and my scarf tied tight I did something which I hope to do with you someday soon: I made snowmen! Actually, a snow family to be more correct. Your Mom stayed inside, which is a good decision- there's no reason that she and you should be standing out in the snowy cold and getting her hands wet and freezing.

But me? Yeah, I'm allowed to do that! I made one for me, one for your Mom and even one little snow baby just for you!


Oh yeah, those are carrot noses! This is the real deal, baby! Except we didn't have coal, so I used rocks for the eyes...and no buttons. But the grownups did look naked, so I clothed them when I was done with my hat and scarf.

The reason I tell you this now is because I hope it snows like this when you come out. Maybe when you're like 1 or 2, so you can really enjoy it and so we can do this together. Believe it or not, this is the first time I've ever built snowmen. But, seeing as how I grew up in Texas, that's not too hard to believe. I guess I just never made snowmen in college in Boston...too busy making snow forts and snow balls.
But the snow family wasn't complete without their three doppelgangers. So our neighbor Brian was kind enough to snap a shot of the whole family (flesh AND snow) (except for the dogs, who pretty much refuse to go outside!):


So. Here we are: It's week 36, we're 1 cm dilated, 50% effaced, and it's snowing in Dallas (and has been all day). Although we can't wait to meet you, we ask politely that you hibernate for at least a few more days...after all, you're full term (37 weeks) as of this Saturday!

week 36!

Everyone loves a snow day, for sure! But, on this snow day we got to meet a promising Pediatrician, hear your heart beat, find out for sure where your head is (and your tush), and visually see on our own lawn, in front of our own house that what a family of 3 will look like. Our 2 big snowmen (and 2 snow dogs) will very very soon become 2 big snowmen, 2 snow dogs and 1 tiny little snow man. Except that none of us, hopefully, have carrots for noses!