Demeter. Goddess of the harvest. Mother of Persephone. Mother Earth. Earth mother. Mother of a lost daughter.
Here is Dmitry.
Is it just me, or do all babies look like Brock Lesnar for the first few days of life?
In all seriousness, in a certain light, he looks just like Isa, bears a striking resemblance to Jovi, looks like his daddy, has a face and an identity all his own. All of that. Wrapped into one precious bundle that neither of us want to put down.
Except for today. I'm a little tired today.
After this post, I probably won't post too too many pictures here on the blog, because let's face it, if you are in the midst of your own journey, struggling with infertility or yet another loss, I know the last thing you want to see is someone else's smiling baby. Man, it stings. I know.
But so many of you have asked. It hardly seemed fair to you who kept the vigil with us to not have a glimpse of the end result.
The end result arrived at 9:14 pm, Monday, March 25th after me, M, L and her hubby (and L's aunt who kindly captured the day with her camera) spent the day watching P*wn Stars and L*ve It or List It marathons as we waited for the induction drugs to take effect.
The day was relatively uneventful until BBB had descended far down enough for L's doctor to safely break her water. That happened around 6 pm and from there on we watched this amazing woman put herself into a zone and prepare to deliver our baby.
The waiting was nearly unbearable. I could see M start to get rattled when the nurse asked us if we had ever seen a delivery before. I answered that I had, but was the one delivering...And that's when I realized how traumatic this event could potentially be for M. He was there. The first time. On the receiving end. Receiving our baby girls. Seeing their first, and some of their last breaths. Oh M.
We left the room for a bit. M cried. I let him. Then he asked for some time alone to talk with our daughters. I went back in with L and he joined us a little later. After he said the things he needed to say.
It wasn't long until L said, "I can't NOT push anymore. I have to push." One last check of her cervix and her doc simply said, "ready when you are."
Holy shit, I see a head.
Oh my god, there's a face. Umbilical cord! Ack! (no worries, doc looped it over and around, out of the way) Shoulders!
"Ok. We're gonna push until we're done now. Go!"
Baby!!! When his voice sounded, so did my sobs. I totally and completely failed at my assigned task, which was to start drying him off and wrapping him in warm blankets. All I could do was sob. Big ugly joyous sobs.
M was right by my side. Staring. Just staring. We waited until the cord stopped pulsing, M cut, and that little sweetness was lifted onto mommy's chest. After L looked down and said, oh, he's not so big. (says the woman who had three ten-pounders). We laughed and cried and it was seriously the most amazing moment. With amazing people. Lots and lots of hugs and hand squeezes and relief. Sweet relief. Big baby boy. You are here.
In the evening and day that followed one of the nurses kept coming by to our rooms when we were all together to see if we needed anything. After the fifth time, we were all like, seriously, we are fine. "I know, I know!" She said. "I just want to BE here. There is such an aura of blessings in this room. I just want to be around it."
Well, that about sums it up, no?
The drive home was long and filled with firsts. First road trip! First hotel room! First diaper changing in the back seat!
|I so love this pic|
Might as well get him started right. Right? :-) Me and M and D. We three. A road tripping team.
And now we're home.
So, what about the blog? What's going to become of the Maybe Baby blog?
Well, I write about my life. And plan to continue. My life now includes another person in it. Odds are good there will be some posts about D here. But also life and work and running and such. Sometimes starring D. Sometimes not. I understand if you need to step away for a bit if this isn't what you want to be reading right now. I get it.
If you stick around, I'm also working on some book review type posts. One on the latest book written by Lauren Sandler based on her own life and her research for Time magazine on the decision to have one and only one child. I'm half way through it with pages of scribbles. Questions for Lauren, for you, for myself. With or without infertility thrown into the conversation, there are some discussions worth having here.
And here's the problem (not really) with pumping wearing a sassy hands-free pumping bra = way too much time to shop online. Good thing that Amazon is filled with offerings from the IF community. Have you seen Lori Holden's book The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption: Helping Your Child Grow Up Whole has finally arrived?? Did you know there's a sequel to Melissa Ford's Life from Scratch called Measure Of Love? Done, and done.
So, M is back at work (boo.) Me and D, we are chilling. Pumping, eating, pooping, sleeping, reading. Getting to know one another. It's awesome. For reals.