Robby James: A birth story

Hi friends! I've been dragging my feet on this blog post. I guess that's just life now with two kids! But do you wanna hear how our little snuggler was born? Good, because I typed it all out for Analisa, so I'm gonna follow suit and do the same for little Robert James! (<--- Who is most often known as Robby or Robs. Never RJ. Sometimes Bobby Jims, if you're James or me).

Grab a drink and settle in, because I truly spared no detail.  :)

And then there were four!

This story starts just after midnight on Jan. 1.

My body was sore and we had finished up a long day. I pulled back the covers of our bed and said to James with a solid level of confidence, "Well, it looks like we won't have the first baby of 2018. I think that would have been kind of fun."

If memory serves me correctly, James responded that it would have been way too much attention, and he never wanted to have the first baby of the year. Go figure, right?

Anyway, the two of us had just wrapped up a pretty uneventful New Year's Eve. Earlier in the evening, we had gone to Target with Analisa (it was pretty empty in there), James had made us dinner (really delicious chili and chocolate cakes), we watched the Dave Chappelle special on Netflix and then switched over to network TV just in time to catch the NYE ball drop, grab a quick smooch and turn in for the night. We toasted with just the tiniest bit of wine (well, if you're me), and retired upstairs. I was feeling very large and uncomfortable. Did I blog previously about how the baby's head was so low, that he was kind of ON my hip flexors? I was dealing with quite a bit of nerve pain. (I already forget if I'm explaining that correctly). Anyhow, in my final few weeks of the pregz, the doctor told me that the sensation likely wouldn't go away -- and it was really hurting me. For almost a whole week, I really couldn't even make my legs walk like usual, and one day, I was actually dragging my left leg around my parents' house, in pure agony. And that's not an exaggeration.

So, needless to say, we weren't exactly feeling social on New Year's Eve. The baby was due Jan. 4, and there was never a doubt: We were staying in.

I dropped off to sleep rather quickly after hitting the sheets, only to be awoken by the feeling of my water breaking. YASSSS, was my first thought. James and I had been talking like, "How do people know when to go to the hospital? Are we supposed to time the contractions?"  I had never liked that idea, but still, I was fearful that we'd wait too long and become those people who have a baby in the car, en route to the hospital. That actually didn't sound so bad, if my alternative was waiting around for 24 hours, like last time.

Anyway, I had said to James previously, "I hope my water just breaks again. That made it super easy to determine."

Dr. T told me that if that happened, just to come in sooner rather than later. Game on.

So, it was 1:55 a.m. on New Year's Day, I had just thoroughly soaked our sheets and my Snoogle (pregnancy pillow), and I decided to call my mom, who was going to come over and watch Ana while James and I headed to the hospital, per our plan.

Funny side story: She had been up north with my dad, as it was NYE weekend. I had Aunt Laurie, Candace and our usual Ana sitters on standby, in the case that something like this were to happen and my mom wasn't available when we needed her ... but yeah, I was really hoping to use my mom. And that's no offense at all to all the generous people who offered to help us out! In a bind, I would have taken any or all of their assistance. I was just more comfortable with my own mom in this specific childcare sitch.

I knew I wouldn't feel guilty about calling her overnight, where as I might have felt bad calling say, Candace, who actually had New Year's plans. It's kind of a big ask: "Hey, will you jump in the car and head an hour north? And then stay the night at our place so that Ana has someone to wake up with? And we'll let you know at some point what the plan might be? Oh and did I mention we have no timeline?"

Trust me, I know Candace or the sitters would have been FINE with it! But again ... I just felt better asking Meese.

Ana loves Meese and Bob's.

So, weird coincidence: My mom had called me earlier in the night, as in, on New Year's Eve, to tell me that she and my dad were coming home early. I was all, "No, don't do that! Relax. There are no indications the baby is coming!" But she insisted. I swear, we have this weird intuition thing going on sometimes. Like, in college when I'd pick up the phone to call her, and she'd already be on the line, trying to call me. Stuff like that still happens -- I'll open my phone to text her an Ana pic, and receive a message at that very moment, like, "Any Ana pics today?"

Anyway, she had texted me earlier in the night when they were passing through our area, like, "Hey, you in labor yet? It'd be a perfect time to stop by!" ... but we were probably at Target or making dinner or something. I was just like, "No labor yet, will let you know!"

And there I was, hours later, asking her to hop back on the road, come an hour north, and watch Ana! Thank goodness she and my dad got the hunch to drive back.

She had arrived at our place by 3a or so, and kind of laughed at how relaxed we were. There was no mad dash by me or James through the house, throwing things into bags or freaking out. I had finally packed (days earlier) -- for myself, and a bag for Ana, in case my mom wanted to take her back to RO. The vibe was just like, maybe some quiet nerves from me, James was kind of half-asleep, and my mom was EXCITED. I really debated going into Anz's room for one final kiss or snuggle, but she's such a light sleeper sometimes. I didn't go; I was too nervous about waking her, and leaving my mom with the task of putting her back down.

I believe it was 3:15 or so by the time we arrived at the hospital. Funny story, we had never been there. We drove by after swim lessons once (they were on the same campus), but that was about the extent of it. And then we intended to go on a hospital tour -- or at least look up where I should check in once I was in labor, but it never happened. Still, I knew we were looking for the Women's and Children's Center. And the place was pretty dead, probably considering the holiday, so we found it quickly.

James was like, "I'll drop you off at the door and then go park!" ... And then I basically watched as he parked, front row, and joined me inside 30 seconds later. We were lol'ing as we tracked down the check-in area. "OMG that saved us so much time -- THANK YOU."

So, we found this intercom that had a sign next to it, and it said something like, "If you think you're in labor, ring the bell."

I was just kind of like, "Hi! My name's Michelle. My water broke!"

(About to meet this guy!)

The nurses buzzed us in right away and the whole process was very relaxed. We gave a ton of info to a woman or receptionist at the check-in area, then got assigned to a room quickly, so they could assess whether to admit us.

I changed into hospital clothes (ugliest gown ever, no exagg), met the on-call doctor right away*, and got checked**. I was dialated to a 3, and during that check, another huge wave of water-breakage came rolling in. The doctor was like, "WOW YEAH, YOU WEREN'T KIDDING. Get this girl to her delivery room!"

*Oh yeah, should mention: My doctor wasn't available. I forget if that was due to the holiday, or if it was just his scheduled day off. He's a busy guy and I knew the whole pregnancy that this was a real possibility. I didn't care. It wasn't like on TV, where the pregnant woman is all, "But I need MYYYY doctor!" I was just like, "Wait, you guys have someone around here who can deliver a baby, right? Cool. That should be fine." I had never met backup guy. I also didn't even bother writing a birth plan this time, so ... that made it easy to be flexible.

**Checks are the worst, am I right?

Anyway, the speed and ease of check-in was kind of nice! Remember last pregnancy? There wasn't a midwife available at the time, so I had these random doctors in and out of my room for what felt like forever, as they all debated whether or not my water had broken. (It had been hours and I had showered, and nothing was showing up on the microscope or whatever, when they swabbed me).

This certainly wasn't that! I was like, "My water broke!" And the doctor was like, "Indeed it did! See you soon!"

James and I were taken to the L&D room within a few minutes. My only complaint was, the nurse setting up my IV really struggled to find a good spot for it, in my arm. She kept being like, "Why isn't this WORKING?" And I was all, "Yeah, good question," under my breath, as I grimaced (while she poked around my forearm). Eeek. I wasn't a bitch about it; she was just trying to do her job. But man, that really hurt.  :/

Seriously, that's a weird spot to put an IV anyway, right? And then it got like, snagged, or it was in too deep, and I kept complaining about it to James. I was all, "Is it a problem that I'm about to birth a human out my V and I'm bitching already ... about the IV? I'm setting myself up for failure." But he agreed: Getting an IV sucks, and the experience is 10 times worse when they're poking around and taking forever.

Next came the waiting.

With Ana, like I mentioned, my water broke, and then once the doctors finally decided to admit me, they threatened me with Pitocin if contractions didn't progress fairly quickly. But they progressed. I needed no such Pitocin, thank god. I had heard SO many horror stories about Pitocin -- I was relieved to avoid it.

This time around, it was the same deal. The doctor told me, "If you don't start contracting here soon, we're going to have to give you some Pitocin." I was like, "Eeeeek, really? I was REALLY hoping to avoid it -- that makes me nervous." And he told me we could wait it out for a bit.

So we held off. And we held off some more.

Nurses were coming in like, "Can you rate your pain?" And I didn't want to lie. I was like, "Um, zero?"

I wasn't trying to be a hero. My pain was honestly at a zero.

Ugh. After a round or two of waiting it out (in hindsight, I have no idea how long we actually waited), Dr. K came back and was like, "Sorry, we need to get this thing going. The Pitocin is going in."

At that point, I was just kind of like, can't win 'em all. Where's my shrug emoji?

I wasn't gonna fight the doctor on it. He's the professional, I'm not, etc.

Plus, I wasn't gonna lie ... I was getting anxious. I think, if I had to guess, it had been a few hours. I was hoping to be one of those people who was in and out of L&D in like, 4-6 hours TOPS, and this was already taking a long time. Dr. K was making some valid points too; he clearly knew I was uncomfortable with the Pitocin thing. "Hard labor is hard labor, no matter how you get there," he told me (which, to his credit, turned out to be pretty true). So ... the Pitocin happened.

For reference, James was largely asleep for all of this. Same as last time, I was just like, "I don't need you. You should rest up."

Anyway, my experience with Pitocin was a little bit like my experience with my first L&D. Everyone had warned me with all these over-the-top stories: "OMG IT'S THE WORST THING EVER/NOTHING WORSE COULD EVER HAPPEN TO YOUR BODY/THIS IS HELL ON EARTH/YOU WILL PROBABLY DIE," so when things remained even pretty tolerable, I was pleasantly surprised. It's all about expectation, I swear.

Like, how do I say this ... contractions were painful, but contractions are also painful in general, so I was like, meh.

And the Pitocin definitely helped move things along. Still not as quickly as I would have preferred, but we started making some real progress. Every time I got checked, we were a little closer to push time, and meanwhile, I just sat back and watched that Khloe Kardashian weight loss show. It was mindless, but that's what I needed. It definitely helped me zone out a bit. I tuned in for a few E-60s and the middle of Pulp Fiction, but really, watching those E! girls reach their goal weights was the way to go. The nurses kept lol'ing at my selection in TV shows, but it's not like there was much else on!

I was bummed that I couldn't eat or drink. If you read Ana's birth story, you might remember that I got away with a #2 sub from Jimmy John's, an oatmeal raisin cookie and ... I think all the bevs I wanted, at Kaiser. Here, I was stuck with ice chips. I believe I could have had a popsicle too, but it was cold already in my room. So F that. 

Although, I totally let the ice chips melt and then chugged when the nurse was out of the room. (My small form of rebellion that I'm sure EVERYone in my sitch partakes in? Ha).

The other memorable parts here were: Going through those hot and cold flashes again, some brief nausea, and peeing every 9 seconds, which is an exaggeration, but not by much. I think I was going probably two or three times an hour. Which is like, how? I wasn't drinking anything! (Well, outside of the melted ice chips).

Just sticking in random pics at this point, don't mind me.

And as for reasons why you SHOULD get the epidural, I kept telling my nurse, "that catheter sounds ideal right now! I'm so jealous of everyone who gets one."  I swear, every time I got up, I had to lug that thing attached to my IV, I got all tangled up in the cords and wires, um perhaps worst of all, it took so much energy -- when I was trying to rest up ... ugh. I don't remember having to pee so often when I was delivering Ana.

I was like, "Everyone gets caught up in these cords, right? How annoying!"

... Nope. Just me, apparently.

Also, Dr. K and his team kept offering up the epidural ... and it kind of made me nervous! Every time he was in, he'd say some version of, "OK, well if you're going to get it, you need to do it NOW." Or, "The anesthesiologist can get really backed up -- you might want to request it ASAP."  I can understand why he wanted me to order it: I had told him I was on the fence, and I wanted to see how things progressed.  And I felt like it was fair for him to keep the epidural reminders alive. Imagine that I DID want it, and it became too late, and for all he knows, I would have lost my mind. (I don't know, this is all hypothetical, but I have to imagine it's happened).

But yeah, I was just like, over in my corner, doing the deep breathing from last time (well, as much as I could with a raging cold -- my nose was super stuffed up), just like, "How bad is the pain gonna get? I thinkkkk I can weather the storm! No, I'm good! Surviving!"

And then he'd leave and I'd panic to James like, "I swear to GOD, I hope I don't regret this!"

It's hard to explain. Things were really intense when I was within a contraction. But when I was between them, I was like, cracking jokes with Dr. K and pretty fine, all things considered.

I did get a little medicine put into my IV at the very end -- just like last time -- to have something in my corner for when it came time to push.

Here's the thing though: I think I waited too long. I swear, it didn't do anything. Last time, I was like, "Thank goodness! At least a tiny bit of relief! I can rest!" This time, I was all, "Cool, contractions are still crazy. I can't relax," and then, "Oh, I can totally feel his shoulders twisting out of me." (K, spoiler alert!)

Anyway, the meds went into my IV, then probably 10-20 minutes later, I got up for the 167th time to pee. The nurse said to me some version of, "You're getting close. You might have the urge to push in there. Don't do it. We don't want to deliver the baby over the toilet, please."

I promised not to push.

And then I sat down and I needed to.

I thought about it.

I was like, "Maybe I really do just have to go to the bathroom. I'll give it a minute." So I sat. And I sat. And I waited.

The nurse, it seems, got suspicious, and knocked on the door. She was like, "All set? Wanna come sit back down on the bed?" And I cracked. I was like, "Mayyyybe I'll just go to the bathroom *real quick* and thennnnn come rejoin the group and we can have the baby. Sound like a plan? Cool!"

She was like, "Nopety nope nope NOPE!" <-- Haha I don't actually think she said "nopety," but she was quick to veto my plan entirely. She told me that if it feels like I have to go, then maybe I really do, but the baby is sitting like, RIGHT THERE as well, or maybe the baby just needs to come out ASAP. Either way, it was push time, and people were starting to flood the room. Lights were getting flicked on, and all of a sudden, the moment had arrived.

Ugh.

One final rewind: James and I had two major (but brief) discussions in our car ride to the hospital, both initiated by me.

1.) "I don't love the name Henry as much as I used to," I admitted.
"Yeah, I don't like Drew or Andrew very much either," he said.
So Robert was confirmed as our boy name. (And if it were a girl, it was going to be Bridget -- well, we were 98.7% sure).

2.) "Last time, a lot of the nurses kept telling me I was close when I was pushing -- but I wasn't really THAT close until the final push, like, the last few seconds," I said. "Will you tell me I'm close when like, I'm honestly CLOSE to being done?"
And James agreed.

So, there we were, and James had my left leg and probably a nurse was on my right. The ordeal is already becoming a blur (thank god), but here are some notes:

--James really came through in the clutch, and told me when I was close (to having the baby out). I believed him. He wouldn't lie or exaggerate to me. And we got that baby evicted pretty fast! James' level of *calm* is super nice in the delivery room.

--Pushing felt GOOD when I was birthing Ana. It felt productive and like it was taking some of the pressure away, and I swear, her head was out and her body slid out next, effortlessly. At least, that's how it went down in my head.

--Pushing was really challenging this time. Despite the fact that it took only ... 5-10 minutes, vs. 40 minutes with Ana? I don't know how to account for the difference. Regardless, I told several people after Ana that pushing is the nice part of L&D. And that it doesn't hurt so much. LIES. I'm so sorry to whomever I steered in the wrong direction. Pushing is crazy.

--There weren't as many people in the room as there were for Ana -- remember, I had meconium in my water with her, so there was all that pressure for Anz to take a breath right away. This time, no meconium, fewer medical professionals ... still a lot of voices. Also, it seems no one had told them about my hip flexor issue. They kept telling me to curl into myself, like hold my legs in that position, and I was straight panicking, like, "NO, I'M NOT BEING DRAMATIC, MY LEGS REALLY DON'T MOVE THAT WAY RIGHT NOW." Ow.

--I believe I also lost hope for a slight moment, and maybe even yelped (8 seconds before doing the biggest push of my life and getting Robby out), "I can't! I'm not sure I can!"

--His shoulders twisted out of me at a funny angle. Not ready to talk about that one just yet. (Youch).

--I laughed at myself later and remembered how I was kind of a baby this time around, but James saw it differently, which makes me love him even more. He said something like, "No, you were in beast mode. You hunkered down so much faster than last time and got the baby out in what, four contractions? No one would ever call you a baby for that." He is bae.

But then, just like in the movies and that Pampers commercial that makes me fog up every time ... the entire moment just turned to slow motion. I looked up, the pain down below already seemed like it was behind me, and I saw that we had a son. Our son. The room erupted with, "BOY!" and it was like, of course he was. At first, I was so sure! Should have kept trusting my instinct. I caught a glimpse of his sweet (angry) face, knew he was my Robs, and my heart just felt like it was bursting already.

"James! You have a son!" I think I called out. Even though he knew, probably a half-second before I did. "WE have a son!"

I teared up but I didn't cry. Just like last time? How am I so emotional during "This Is Us" yet I don't cry when meeting my own children?

Also, honestly, I lovvvve not knowing the sex! I recommend not finding out, to anyone even slightly considering it. Learning once you've delivered is so so cool, for lack of a better word. It's this huge flood of emotion: You're done birthing a human, you get to meet said human, and you finally get to know!

My guys

Like I said, I had a hunch the entire time that he was a boy, but just like with Ana, I questioned it a bit, especially toward the end! I mean, do I have hunches, or lucky guesses? You tell me.

Back to the birth (it's hard not to jump around!)  They handed me his warm, sticky little body and I just loved on him. He was mad about it, haha, just like his sister. But he was HERE. And he had the cutest little lips, nose and old man face! It was an out of body experience. I held it together somehow. I didn't ramble like last time. I was just kind of trying to take it all in. I couldn't believe he was here. It seemed like only a minute ago, I was in the bathroom, deciding if I should GO on the sly. Only 12 hours earlier, I was snuggled up to James, cozy in bed, wondering how our 2018 would unfold. Only 24 hours earlier, I was crying about transitions, and nervous to give Ana a sibling. And now I was sitting here with a son. My precious boy.

The medical team delivered my placenta, got me all cleaned up and stitched up (had another slight injury), and all the while I just snuggled a baby. He didn't want to nurse right away, unlike Ana, but he did get cozy on my chest and we did way more than the recommended hour of skin to skin. TBH, around here, it's more like a few months of skin to skin. I love it so much.

We named him right away. I was so happy to finally have some water, and for the nurse to take my damn IV out.

I just remember shaking viciously, post-birth. It was like my body was in shock. Delivering is SO HARD. I forgot how hard, even under the best of circumstances. I was like, cold and sore and hungry and overcome with emotion and I couldn't get my body under control.

They weighed and measured him eventually: 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and nearly 21 long. So much for "a nice little 6-pound baby," as Dr. T predicted. Although, admittedly, I gave him a hard time about his prognostication, citing Ana's birth stats, and he was all, "You're right, so much of this is bullshit!" He also told me early on that I was probably having another girl, based on the fact that I wasn't sick with either of them. I'll definitely need to call him out on that too, at our postpartum appointment!

What else? Robby was named after a whole bunch of Roberts in my family: Most notably, perhaps, being my brother Robby, my dad Bob, and both of my wonderful grandpas. We always thought Robert James sounded really nice, and my James, for whatever reason, was against naming the baby after himself. (Which, bummer. I tried to change his mind on this a whole bunch. I love the name James).

After some bonding time in the L&D room, and once we texted and called everyone on our lists, we were moved to the room where we stayed the next night. It was fine! Not like, wonderful, but what hospital room is? (Besides Karmanos, at Beaumont. Totes birthing there next time!) 

You know, an aside: I heard a LOT of horrible things about our hospital toward the end of my pregz, but for the most part, the staff we encountered and the space we took up -- was great. I wasn't pressured toward a C-section (the topic never even came up), or an epidural (despite a few reminders) or ANYTHING. The on-call doctor was wonderful. ... I feel like I should write a positive review online for Genesys! Honestly, toward the end, I was really starting to regret the fact that I didn't use U of M or one of the Detroit-area hospitals. But this experience was about as perfect as I could have envisioned.

And my mom woke up with Ana at our house, just as we had planned. They arrived at the hospital just before I got wheeled to the recovery room. Ana was quiet but happy!

I'm cheating; this is the three of us at home. The hospital pics with Ana were kind of ... underwhelming!

I think the hospital setting caught her off guard at first. To be fair, it's probably weird to see mama hooked up to an IV and in a hospital bed. She got over that fairly quickly. She sat with us for some pics and gave the baby some suspicious looks, but then played with her stuffed friends solo the rest of the time. Typical! Gotta keep in mind she JUST turned 2.

My dad came later that afternoon to meet Little Robs.

I was bummed -- I had been planning my first dinner post-baby (had decided on this really great Italian place in town), and the idea was that James would go get takeout from there. Indian food was our backup plan. We got Indian takeout after I had Ana. I swear, you don't even know hunger until you've pushed out a baby. That night, you will be like, RAVENOUS. Anyway, everywhere that we had in mind was closed! Because of New Year's Day, of course. We still got takeout and it was still delish. (Well, and I also ate a plain can of tuna on white bread and thought it was delicious, so maybe I'm not a trustworthy source, less than 24 hours after birth). But yeah, the chicken lasagna I had in mind was a no-go. James made up for it by surprising me with a piece of carrot cake (one of my fav desserts).

The rest of our hospital stay was pretty uneventful. We got discharged really fast. Both times now, they never wanna keep me long. It always feels like, "OK, everything's checking out well with the baby, see ya!"  So we just stayed the one night.

Things at home are really good though! We had a smooth transition back. My parents kept Ana an extra night so that we could come home and settle in with the baby. My mom drove her back ... Wednesday? (I believe I gave birth on Monday). And I was sooooo happy to have our girl. It didn't feel right without her.

Comparing the first and second babies, and what it was like to come home from the hospital -- is lol. After Ana, I think I sat around for at least 3 weeks, or until we had to move, and got waited on.

This time, we ran an errand on our way home from the hosp, and then I walked in the door and resumed real life: threw some laundry in, kept organizing Robby's room, etc.  I felt like, life couldn't just STOP because we had a brand-new baby. We also have a toddler who'd be coming home soon, and we needed to keep things moving!

Speaking of that cute toddler ... Ana is so sweet. We really haven't gone out of our way or done anything over the top to make her feel special. But we've included her from the get-go, just like, with integrating her into our new normal. I think it's going well! Her behavior is the same as always. Sometimes she'll still pitch a fit over something like animal crackers, but that's just age 2 for you.

We still chase her around the house and play with her constantly and make sure she has one of us, whenever possible, on "Ana duty" -- to jump in the castle with her (in our living room; her newest obsession), to pour "juicy" cups for, etc.

Like most things, it took her a little bit to warm to him. She was just shy at first. She either calls him "WOBBY" or "YOBBY" or "Baby Robert" (which is so so cute, there are no words). She just asked to hold him the other day for the first time -- and admittedly, he was mid-bottle, so he wasn't that into it. Still, she'd never asked before, and I didn't want to tell her no. So I set it up! It was pretty cute, despite him screaming and kind of freaking her out.

We're trying not to force him on her, like, "Do you wanna hold the baby? How about now?" I'm very much letting her lead the way on this. I want it to be organic. But I do ask if she wants to be mommy's helper, which she lovvvvves. She "helps" me pick out his outfits in the morning, and grab diapers, and even with bathtime. She likes sprinkling him with water like it's Palm Sunday. It's debatable as to whether or not she's *actually* helping, but I do think she likes the feeling of being a big sister.

She runs around the house saying, "mama-dada-Ana-Wobby-HAPPY FAMILY!"

And she's very concerned when he cries. "Mama! Baby CRYING!" she'll say.

I felt sad when I had to tell her no (when she asked, "Wobby play?")  Like, she wants to play with him already. That is the best. "Soon, bear! So soon, you guys can play all the time!"

I mean, "soon" is kind of a relative term, but whatever, right?

"HODE BRODDER?" (Hold brother?) <--- happened

I won't ramble for too much longer, but Ana also gets excited when I have him give her "kisses" before bed, and when I say, "Can you show Robby?" she'll happily oblige: meaning she'll sing her ABCs for him, count to 20, sing and dance ... AH and then I just melt. Granted, he's kind of startled when she does these things: for example, she'll like, scream the ABCs into his face, because that's how she rolls ... but yeah! Siblings. I love it. I think he'll just grow up used to the fact that he has a crazy older sister.

And then the other day, Robby was crying in his Rock n Play, and I ran downstairs to get something. When I returned, Ana was PETTING HIS HEAD AND HAD GIVEN HIM BLUE. (Her blue blanket, which is her No. 1 comfort item). If that isn't the nicest thing in the world ... I don't know what is. I was choked up! So so touching.

Also "SHOW WOBBY" when "brushing teef" is a definite thing.  :)

Robby's disposition is so sweet. This guy loves mama. I guess that "mama's boy" cliche really does start out early! All he wants to do is sit with me, sleep on me, snuggle, hold hands ... I love it. OK, one night I kind of lost my mind because I swear I couldn't set him down and I just needed solo sleep ... but it's not really a problem anymore. The stressful moments are fleeting.

He's a sleepy guy. You forget how much infants sleep. Like, 18 of 24 hours in a day. If we didn't have Anz, we'd all be so well-rested!

You can already tell he's gonna just get used to it being loud around here. He and Ana sleep through each other's noises and are generally unrattled/unfazed by one another.

He looks just like Ana. I look down some days and it's like I'm holding her as an infant all over again. We've been getting a lot of comments from people saying he looks like James too.

It's just so different, forming my bond with Anz and then thinking about how it's been developing with Robs. With Ana, it was like, all-consuming, right out the gate. From the moment she was placed on my chest, she was just my entire world. We just like, took one another in for weeks. James barely had any time off work, so it was just the two of us, day and night. With Robby, it wasn't exactly that.

WHAT a tiny friend.

He was born and it was almost surreal. It took me forever to absorb the fact that he was finally here! I was like, thinking about Ana, and texting work to get FMLA paperwork finalized, and worrying about nursing and in a little bit more post-birth pain than I had been with Anz. But we continue to bond with each passing day, like in the quiet moments, when the whole house is sleeping except the two of us. I'll sing to him or read or just smile and tell him he's my boy. Or I'll take in his tiny smiles as he peers up at me from his bouncer, and just melt. He clenches my hand so tight and sleeps probably the best out of anywhere, on my chest. I love feeling his little body rise and fall with his breath. Or feeling his sweet breath on my cheek. He makes the sweetest cooing noises, and I swear, he's trying to talk to me. I tear up sometimes just looking at him. He is my kind little boy, who I'll dance with someday at his wedding (well, if he gets married!)  His temperament is already so loving. I could just squeeze him all day long -- well, and I kind of DO.

I'm doing things a little different this time, too, based on lessons I learned with Ana. I'm taking a shower whenever possible, just a body rinse usually, for the sole reason that it feels SO GOOD and I'm freezing and you gotta put the oxygen mask on yourself before you can help anyone else, you know? (Airplane analogy I heard recently). Self-care has been prioritized. Also, when Ana would refuse to get set down, I'd just be like, "OK then, that's my day! I guess I'll stay glued to this chair." And I'd forget to eat or drink and I'd hold my pee as long as possible and just stay put. This time? That's not so much an option. I will set him down, whether he likes it or not. A million different times or ways, until he accepts it. Because I have to, you know? I have to chase his sis! We still get our snuggle on, don't you worry.

Happy in mama's lap

But yeah, the art of successfully setting him down ... is life. I mean, worst-case scenario is, I wake him up and have to try again in a bit. But best-case scenario? You get a hot shower and a few hours to yourself or with your toddler. And that's the best.

I'm also asking for help moreso this time around, even if that just means asking for water. (I have like, a water cup in every room and I just request that James helps me always keep 'em filled).

Oh, and for anyone also postpartum or who's about to be: The first few weeks are really hard, I think, even under the best conditions. I'm telling you this in solidarity, not to freak you out. But I had a really frustrating day where, even after switching to bottles (yes, I'm pumping again), Robby would just EAT AND EAT AND EAT and then come off, and spit up all over. And then do it all over again. He wasn't back to birth weight yet, and I felt like he wasn't even retaining any of the food, and I was just texting my mom and friends, holding back tears. I was reminded that as "easy" as things were with Ana, we had those days, too. Where you're still getting to know one another, and your coffee is cold again and you just feel like you can't win or you're not sure what your next move should be. It gets easier! We're almost a month postpartum, and I'm here to remind you that it really does get better. One morning you wake up and none of it seems like a big deal anymore. Whatever you were freaking out about will be a thing of the past.

And in other (final) news, Ana leapt out of her crib two weeks ago and now she's in a big girl bed. Life is full of transitions over here!

I could probably type forever about this crazy chapter in our lives. We went out for brunch yesterday, just James and I, and we were like, "What did we doooo?"  Haha but we said it with love. Never have our lives been busier or sleepier (some mornings), but NEVER have our hearts been filled with so much love. For each other and these beautiful babes.

More soon, my friends! Anyone who actually read this whole thing deserves a medal.

xoxo