Dear Gav, (my handsey little man)
It is hard to believe that one year ago today, my belly was big and round and hard, and that you were squished up inside, all cozy and warm, having no idea that life as you knew it was about to change dramatically. One year that has blurred by faster than any other to date.
You are ONE today my little man- Wow!!
HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
One year ago today...
Daddy & I dropped Ava off at her best friend Isabella's house and left for Boston at 9am, fighting rush-hour traffic and idiot drivers and typical Boston construction. I panicked the whole way in, about rush hour traffic, idiot drivers, and Boston construction. That we'd be late, or get into an accident, or miss our appointment.
Daddy laughed at my silly, panicky thoughts and distracted me. We listened to a plethora of morning talk radio shows and tried to engage in "normal conversation," even though this was an impossibility under the circumstances. We were on our way to the hospital, for a scheduled C-section at noon. And we knew that in under 3 hours, we would be holding you in our arms. We had waited a very long time for this day and neither of us could believe that it was finally here!
We were bursting with nervous anticipation and excitement despite the dreary rain that fell that morning.
We pulled into the BIDMC parking garage at ten fifteen. And suddenly, I had no desire to get out of the car. My legs were wobbly and shaky and I immediately burst into hysterical, nervous, excited, hormonal pregnancy tears.
Daddy smiled at me, rubbed my back, and sipped his iced coffee.
"Let's go meet this little guy!!" he said to me reassuringly.
But I was scared. Terrified.
Because beneath the excitement of the moment, and beneath the apprehension to have my little boy wrapped in a hospital blanket and placed in my arms, there was fear.
Fear that something would go wrong with the surgery, or that something would go wrong with you, or that one of those "1 in 100,000" possibilities that existed on the waiver that I signed the day before would somehow occur.
This was major surgery, and this time around, I knew that going into it. I was terrified.
But Daddy helped me out of the car and offered me a 6 minute hug, right there in the parking garage. He promised me that you and me would be okay and that he would be there for every minute of it. (he even let me have a teeny tiny sip of his iced hazelnut coffee, against the "no food or drink for 12 hours prior to surgery" order that I had happily agreed to at my very last OB visit.)
And with this, he grabbed 2 duffel bags from the trunk: Mine was pink, and housed lots of random things that I knew I needed being a second time mom: Lotion for my hospital stay (because the air in hospitals is uber dry!), my toiletries, ginormous maxi pads, some massive new pairs of undies (listen, bikini panties and a fresh C-section scar do NOT mix well...), some comfy new nursing gowns, a plush fleece robe (it gets cool at the hospital at night!), slippers, cell phone charger, lots of chapstick, gum, a new nursing pillow for you, and my favorite pillow from home (because let's face it, hospital pillows are about as thick as a Wheat Thin.) Your bag was the blue one. It contained brand new onesies, a few options for your going home outfit, your baby blankie, and a dog lovie that Ava had picked out for you. Your bag wasn't as full and it was for a reason; I knew this time around to not bring any diapers, wipes, or other baby stuff, because if space allotted, the hospital staff would be happy to send us home with lots and lots of them on discharge day...which they did. :)
We walked into the main lobby where Nana was waiting for us, and the three of us headed right over to the elevators. As second time parents, we knew the drill and had more confidence in what elevators to use, and what floor to go to without having to stop & ask the information desk-- we felt pretty cool about this :)
We checked in upstairs, where I got my hospital bracelet and filled out oodles of paperwork, and then we just waited...and waited...
...and waited some more...
until they finally called us around eleven forty five.
I was taken into a room and changed into the infamous, sexy, backless Johnnie while Daddy suited up into his armor-o-scrubs. We looked pretty amazing if you ask me!
I then had to drink a super salty/bitter shot of something that almost make me throw up, and say goodbye to Daddy. This was the hardest part for me because I knew what was coming: The epidural. I knew it was coming and I knew how much it was going to hurt. And I knew that Daddy couldn't be there for this part.
I cried a little, and he wiped my tears away. He told me that he'd see me in a few minutes for "game time."
And so, a super sweet nurse named Nicole wheeled me & my wires & IVs and big bed into the room.
The OR.
I tried not to be nervous but everything was beeping, and everything seemed bright and sterile and shiny and scary. I didn't remember any of this from Ava's birth since it was an emergency situation, off the heels of an exhausting 36-hour labor.
I tried not to look at the table of shiny tools that would inevitably assist in getting you out of me, but I caught a glimpse of them as I wheeled by and almost passed out.
Thank God the anasthesiologist was one cool dude.
I don't remember his name, but the first thing he asked me was was radio station I wanted to listen to.
I told him 92.9 and he high-fived me for such a "rad" selection. I became a little nervous in this moment that someone whose daily vocabulary included the word "rad" was about to stick a massive needle into my back, and so I asked him how old he was. He chuckled and said that he knew he looked young but promised me he had done this thousands and thousands of times. He then told me that today was his last day of work at BIDMC and that he was leaving for Rhode Island to move in with his fiance this week. I made him promise he wouldn't rush my epidural and he said he not only swore, he pinky swore. Again I was a little concerned about someone who actually used "pinky promises" being responsible for said needle in my spinal cavity, but he seemed pretty awesome otherwise and so on we went.
He noticed that i was shaking and offered me some sort of sedative.
"No!!!" I interjected, "I want to be able to remember the birth! I don't want to be all drowsy and loopy and out of it!!"
He mumbled some medical jargon to the other folks in the room and said that he was going to give me something that would "just take the edge off" and promised me that I'd still remember the birth. He said he really needed to give me something since I was shaking so badly and he needed me still for the epidural.
And so, he injected some delicious white goodness into my IV and in less than 15 seconds, I was feeling reallllllly happy.
I mean, REALLY happy!!
I suddenly had the urge to surround myself with psychadelic mushroom posters and lava lamps and watch Scooby Doo. Yeah, that kind of happy.
It was awesome!!
I remember him administering the epidural and giggling through most of it while we talked about which Pearl Jam album was the best. And before I knew it, I was numb, laying on the table with the blue sheet above me, and Daddy was at my head, holding my hand.
When Dr. Eaton said hello to me for the first time from "the other side" (of the sheet,) I giggled and told her how awesome I was feeling. (I'm pretty sure I also took this opportunity to offer her any amount of money for that magical white stuff that had been injected into my IV) ;-)
She made small talk and I asked her to just please tell me before she made the first incision so that I'd be prepared. Dr. Eaton chuckled and said to me, "Oh honey, I've already made the first incision. Get ready to meet your little boy!!!"
Clearly, my perception of time was a bit off and I must have been laying on that table longer than I was aware.
And then...just a few minutes later...I felt that familiar tugging sensation...and heard some suction...
and that cry.
That heart-melting, teeny-tiny little cry.
The cry that told me that you were here, and that you were fine.
I asked Dr. Eaton how you looked-- she said "He's a BIG BOY! And absolutely perfect!"
I made her promise me that you had 10 each of fingers and toes, as well as to verify the organ that had prompted us to paint your nursery blue.
Once all of this was verified, she held your healthy, squirmy, slippery pink body up over the curtain for me to see before the nurse Nicole whisked you away to the bassinet to check your vitals.
I told Daddy to go be with you, and he did. These were some of your first minutes of life:
Daddy just kept reassuring me that you were perfect, and healthy, and in fact a boy.
A few minutes later, after checking you out and determining that you were just fine, you were wrapped up like a little burrito-o-baby, in the infamous striped hospital blankie, and Daddy got to hold you for the very first time.
Our awesome anasthesiologist took the following pictures for us:
I had some complications that made the rest of the surgery take significantly longer than expected, so I was given some drugs to help me relax and fall asleep while they finished working on me. Daddy went with you to the nursery and told Nana that you were here, and that you were just perfect!!
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity...I was wheeled down to the postpartum floor and had a luxurious room all to myself. More importantly than a room to myself, however, this meant that it was finally time for someone very special to meet you.
Here was your first introduction:
Sissy had waited a very long time for you, and couldn't have been more in love if she tried.
Over the next few days, while I recovered, you and me had some special time together, just the two of us, since Daddy went home during the nights to stay with Ava. I loved our quiet nights, just me and you:
Four days later, it was time to take you home. Daddy & Aves came to pick us up and for the first time...I felt complete. We now had one of each-- a healthy little girl, a healthy little boy, and life felt right.
This was our first picture as a family of FOUR, taken in the hospital lobby right before we went home:
I honestly cannot believe how much you have grown in a year's time. Cliche, I realize, but so remarkably true.
You have gone from this
to
in 52 short weeks.
How incredible is that??
You are now a tooth-ed, walking, babbling, pooping, eating little machine! You have surpassed the infancy stage, and are now onto much bigger, much better Toddler-ish things like real milk, forward-facing carseats, and "big-people food" (although you never really cared for gerber pureed stuff!).You have learned to give (open-mouthed, slobbery, drooly) kisses on command and even lay your head on a shoulder when asked for hugs. You laugh when things are silly and cry when sissy takes a toy from you. You still suck your thumb when you are sad or sleepy, and you have adopted a blue blankie with satin edges as your special little "snuggle." (you can't and won't go to sleep without it!) You clap on command and dance when there's a beat. You think Elmo is the best thing since your breastfeeding days, and you are even saying words: Mamma, Da-da, Va-va (for Ava), "teeeee" for tree, and "num-num" for food. You know that the cow says "Moooooo!" and think it is hysterical that the sheep says "Baaaaaaaa." You climb everything that you can and are fearless when it comes to physical obstacles. You love to bang pots, pans, and toys,,, and you LOVE remote controls and the buttons on DVD players or TVs. You have an undying love for the toilet (yes, I have already caught you once or twice with your hands in it...), the trash can, and opening/closing doors. You also enjoy chewing on shoes (yuck!), a habit which we are attempting to break...and swinging on swings at the park. (You are just recently getting brave enough to try the slide too!) You are 200% energy from the minute you wake up in the morning until the minute you close those sleepy eyes at night. In other words...
You are such a little boy!
But one thing remains: You are still today, and will always be, the sweet, lovable, laid-back, easy little baby that I gave birth to one year ago today. Your temperament is so good-natured and sweet that I don't mind the constant physical demands that you place on me. I spend my days chasing, running, and climbing after you...and I wouldn't change it for the world!!!
So my sweetest little Gav: HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY BUDDY!!!
It has been quite the ride this year, for a lot of reasons, and I am happy and blessed to report that you and I ultimately came out of it happy & healthy. I hope that you feel as warm, safe, happy, cozy, and loved today as you did one year ago today in that great big belly of mine.
I am so proud to call you my son, I love you more than words could ever express, and I wish you a lifetime ahead of everything you deserve and so, so much more.
Thank you for surprising us and blessing our lives with your presence. It was never guaranteed, and for this we are forever grateful.
You are one today little man....go conquer the world!!!
