When You Least Expect It

We are dealing with a true tragedy in our family right now . . .

Jim's wonderful grandfather, only 78 years old, died very unexpectedly yesterday afternoon as a result of a blood clot following a routine laser surgery to remove gallstones.

We got the call about 5pm yesterday afternoon. Jim's mom called once, laughing and giggling about how well the surgery had gone. Then a second, much more chaotic call came that there had been a 'code blue.' The final call was a devistated daughter, informing us that her father had passed away.

It's all so sudden, so tragic.

Gene and Dorothy (Jim's Grandfather and Grandmother) were literally packing their bags to come to see us next week. They were to drive here from thier home in Emmons, IA, to meet Kate and celebrate Meg's birthday with us. Gene was going to do odds jobs around our house and in our basement to help spruce the place up . . . he was a skilled craftsman and loved doing things like that. The plans were set. We couldn't wait to see them.

Life changes on a dime.

Jim grew up with this Grandpa, building and creating things in his workshop from the time he was a very little boy. The story is often told about how Grandpa gave Jim his OWN REAL tools at a very young age . . . probably even too young, but Grandpa didn't care. He loved to build with Jim. He loved to build, period . . . the cradle that Kate sleeps in each night was built for Jim by Grandpa Gene in 1978. It's an heirloom that we treasure. And for our girls, Grandpa made a beautiful toy box. He literally finished it the morning of the surgery (no, I'm not kidding about that). It waits proudly in the workshop in Iowa, longing to be filled with pink toys and many dolls . . . we will be so happy to have that in our home.

We just can't believe he's gone.

Jim and I were waiting all afternoon to hear how the surgery had gone. As I mentioned, it was nothing more than very routine, run-of-the-mill, laser surgery to zap a few gallstones that were troubling Gene. The worst case scenario, as was relayed to the family, was that the lasers would suffice and true knife-and-scalpel surgery would have to be done. That would require a 2 week recovery and would delay their visit to Marietta. But, as it turned out, the lasers worked great, and we were all excited to know that Grandpa was doing well.

The doctors are not 100% sure yet, but it appears that sometime just after the surgery, a blood clot formed and went to Gene's heart, causing a massive heart attack. It seems impossible. But it's not. He died in recovery, so quickly that we all were left in total shock.

I can't imagine what his wife, Grandma Dorothy, is going through today. I'm sure she is still in shock. I'm thinking of her and of Jim's mother non-stop today. I just can't imagine.

Jim is off to Iowa tomorrow to be with his family and help take care of their needs. He'll return at the end of the week. After much discussion and much crying over the decision we had to make, we decided that I will stay home with the girls. I won't travel to Iowa. It's just too much for Kate, being only 10 days old . . . and too much for me at 10 days post-pardum, too. Meg, Kate, and I are going to go stay with my parents for some of the week . . . and I think they are going to come up to our house and stay with us for a few days, as well.

I hate that I can't be with Jim . . . with his family . . . in this time when we all need each other. But, as parents, we had to do what is best and what is right for our children. That means I stay here and take care of them while Jim travels. I'll miss him, that is for sure. The girls will miss him, too.

So . . . I'm not sure how much I'll be blogging from Newnan, but I'll try.

Thanks for thinking of us. In spite of all the happiness that we've had at our house these past 2 weeks, this tragedy has hit us hard. We are working to understand it all and to make sure that everyone in the family is being taken care of.

What to Worry about Today

With two kids now, I feel like I'm always worried or nervous about something.

I'm nervous to leave Meg in the room with Kate, unattended. She doesn't have a malicious bone in her body -- and I've mentioned how she adores little sister -- but Meg's quite the curious toddler that could accidentally injure Kate in an attempt to 'love' on her.


My nerves jump a bit when I see that I'm going to need to do two things at once . . . for instance, looking at the clock and realizing I'm going to need to feed Kate AND fix Meg's lunch at the same time. We're working on situations like that . . . and, I'll admit, they are getting easier.


I was worried about Kate's umbilical cord stump . . . it was really irritated after our exam at the doctor on Monday. Dr Ho practically pulled it off when checking to make sure it was OK. It fell off on it's own Tuesday (sniff, sniff), so that worry is now gone.

I get very nervous when Kate sleeps a lot during the day. I remember this worry with Meg, too. I can't shake it; I don't want her to get those days and nights confused. So, we work hard to keep Kate awake for portions of the day . . . and she's sleeping very well at night. Don't get me wrong . . . she's up at least 3 times during the night, but she's going right back to sleep after eating, which is key. I could get up as many times as she needed, as long as she goes back to sleep. I guess that keeping her up during daylight hours is working.


Today's worry: spit up. Kate has a LOT of it. Meg was always a spitter -- but a 'happy' spitter, according to the doctor. Kate is not unhappy about her regurge . . . but the quantity is such that it has me worried. Breastfeeding is going on without a hitch . . . except for the large portion of the meal that comes back up about 30 minutes after she is through.

I know not to worry about spit up. It always looks like more than it is. But, seriously . . . this is a lot.


I did call the doctor, they said watch my dairy intake. Sit her up for 30 minutes following a meal. Don't overfeed. I called the lactation department at Northside to see if their advice was any different . . . they said call the pediatrician. At least I have my bases covered.


So, no dairy for me since yesterday. I'm holding Kate in my lap, freshly fed and raised up about 45 degrees as I write this blog. We are limiting feedings to about 15 minutes, or the first time she 'pops off' the boob. I was putting her back on after a burp, but maybe I was filling the tank past full and causing the overflow. If all of this works, hopefully I can cross another worry off my list before too much longer.

Now I'm worried that I won't be able to eat cheese or drink milk for the next year. In the words of Scarlett O'Hara: I guess I can't worry about that today . . . I'll worry about that tomorrow.

The Short Shirt Phenomenon

Can some please explain to me why your shirts get shorter and shorter after you give birth?

If you have ever been pregnant, you know what I mean. The first time you try on some shirts that are NOT maternity, they all seem soooo much shorter on your waist than they were before you had your pregnant belly.

I realize that (a) my belly is still not back to it's normal position and (b) my boobs are huge. Both of which would account for the length on my shirts virtually disappearing before my eyes.

But . . . here is the kicker for me . . . these days I'm trying to wear shirts that I wore LAST time I was in post-maternity mode. These are the shirts I went out and bought because all of my non-maternity shirts were so short on me the last time around.

I thought for SURE these shirts would fit. They are part of my 'post maternity wardrobe' -- and they worked just fine when I purchased them two summers ago. I would understand if I was trying to wear shirts I wore last summer, when my body was in no-baby shape. But NO. These are shirts at least a size bigger than I'd wear in non-maternity days.

I tried on a couple of these post-maternity shirts today and was so aggravated. Shirt after shirt was just too short. What the &$#% ! Why are these shirts so short on me, too???!!!

Ugh. Sigh. I have nothing to wear. It's a good thing I am hanging around the house all day and have no where to go.

A Horrible Revelation

I just plugged in our video camera to download the video from the hospital.

I just realized that we have next to none.

Jim videoed in the labor and delivery room . . . updates, progress, Kate's first moments after birth. Then he attempted to download this video onto his laptop while we were still at Northside. He got it all set up and started downloading . . . but the attempt failed . . . he didn't have the right software.

And he didn't fast forward the tape back to the end of what had been recorded.

I recorded over ALL of the first moments of Kate's life the next morning when Meg came to meet her little sister.

My heart aches. We have nothing. I'm really sad. I should be glad that at least we have the meeting of Meg and Kate . . . but I can't look on the bright side. I just want to see that fresh faced newborn, slimey and wriggling and making brand new sounds. And I never will.

Together for the First Time

"That one is fine, " I tell the camera lady. The camera lady who comes to your hospital room to take the terrible, horrible picture of your newborn . . . and then expects you to spend a fortune on this first 'portrait'.

"Are you sure? We can do another . . . " she replies.

I'm anxious. I know what is about to happen, and I've been waiting for it for 9 months . . . probably longer. I can hear all kinds of happy sounds in the hallway.

"NO." I say. I just want her out of my room. I sign something -- really, it could have said anything -- and scoop Kate into my arms. I sit down, adjust my robe, and make myself comfortable in the one chair we have in the hospital room. I'm sitting up straight, Kate proudly in my arms . . . and I loudly say something like, "Okay, Jim . . . bring her in!"

Meg met her little sister, Kate, at about noon on June 19th. It was the day after Kate's birth, and two days before Meg's 2nd birthday. Meg wore a "Big Sister" shirt, Kate wore a shirt with "Kate" embroidered on it, and I wore my PJs.

Meg bounded in the room. Bounded -- literally. She ran in to see me -- running directly to me -- so happy and so excited, it made my heart explode. I think my heart truly exploded.

Meg sort of went right past me . . . as if all the excitement was about running in the room, not what was waiting IN the room for her to see. Quickly, she recovered and turned around to face me . . . then said something like, "Kate!" as soon she saw her baby sister in my arms.

Instantly, Meg wanted to touch her. She was so excited. Her face turned from person to person in the room, trying to figure out WHY everyone was there and WHAT they were looking at. There was one thing that was without question though -- Meg knew that Kate was her sister. After all, she'd been hearing about this "Kate" for quite some time . . . it was about time for her to finally meet her. She leaned over and hugged her sister within seconds of meeting her. She wanted me to take the blankets off . . . "Off, Mommy!" she kept saying. Meg wanted to see her sister, from head to toe.

I was trying to take it all in. I was watching Meg with the widest eyes, trying to feel what she was feeling and wondering beyond wonder WHAT was going on in her little mind. I had been looking forward to this moment almost as much as the act of giving birth to Kate itself. I couldn't wait to see them both together. I wanted to soak it up like sunshine and never ever forget one second of it. MY girls . . . our girls . . . two of them.

Meg and I talked about Kate, her sister, as one who was in Mommy's tummy. Now she had come out to meet us all. "Mommy tummy all gone!" Meg said. I laughed . . . everyone laughed . . . because she was right. No more tummy for Mommy. Just a new baby girl instead.

"Hold you," was the next thing Meg said. She wanted to hold me (or have me hold her), but I couldn't exactly manage both girls in the hospital room chair . . . so Jim piped up and asked, "Do you want to hold Kate?"

"Yeah!" The most enthusiastic response you can imagine. She definitely wanted to hold her sister . . . she was very, very excited at the idea.

Jim settled into the bench in the room (which doubled as his bed for the two nights we were there). Meg climbed up with vigor and put her arms out to take Kate. With a little help from Daddy, Meg held her sister for the first time. Again, she wanted all the blankets off so she could examine Kate's little body. Meg wanted to hug Kate, to squeeze her.

And she was smiling -- BEAMING -- the entire time.

It lasted about 10 minutes, the meeting of Meg and Kate. After about 10 minutes, the commotion died down, and we went on to visiting everyone in the room . . . my parents, Jim's family, my cousin Kathryn. Meg received some 'big sister' gifts and was entertained by those more than by her new sibling. The initial meeting was over. But it was unforgettable.

It all went exactly how I'd dreamed it would. Meg super excited, thrilled at the new event in her lift. Kate, in true newborn fashion, lying there and letting it all happen around her. Family all around us to experience the moment.

They'll never remember that day . . . as they grow up, neither girl will remember a time when the other didn't exist. And, I guess in a way, I'll feel that way too. But, I know I can't forget that afternoon of June 19th when all of our family was together for the first time.

"Normal"

The thing about bringing home a second child is . . . "normal" doesn't exist anymore.

I guess it does still exist . . . it's hiding out there somewhere . . . but it has an entirely new meaning. And it takes awhile to actually find it.

Life around the house these past three days has been great -- but literally nothing like it used to be. There are two kids now. There are two parents. We are constantly 'tag teaming' different daytime/nighttime events . . .

"I'll make Meg's dinner while you feed Kate on the couch . . ."

"After dinner, you clean up and watch Kate in her swing while I bathe Meg . . ."

"It's 1:30am and I just fed her . . . but she won't sleep . . . will you take her for a bit and I'll take a little nap?"

"Okay, you pack the bag for the doctor visit . . . I'll get the girls in the car . . ."

Jim and I are always discussing who does what and when. It's like a bit of a game right now, taking turns with each girl and filling their needs. And there is always someone who must keep one eye on Meg at all times (if Kate isn't in your arms, that is) . . . big sister LOVES her new sibling . . . so much so, we just have to watch out that her love isn't too aggressive.

We are getting used to it, one event -- one hour -- one day at a time. I'm sure a day will come when we do these things . . . our jobs with each girl . . . without discussion. It will be understood who does what with whom. That, in my opinion, will come with things become more 'normal' around here.

All in all, it is a truly unique transition.

One thing I was worried about the whole time leading up to Kate's birth: how would it feel to love TWO children? Is it possible to have the same amount of love for my second that I felt for my first? And -- personally, MY biggest question -- would I favor one?

It's like all of those feelings and worries just melt away, the second you are around both of your two children for the first time.

I wish I could explain it to those who only have one . . . and those who have more than one know exactly what I'm talking about. You don't have any problem loving two. I look at Meg exactly the same way that I did before . . . my love for her is exactly the same. And then I look over at Kate and see her sweet (sleeping) body and can't even believe I'm lucky enough to have her, too. I love her the same way I loved Meg in her first few days . . . with total awe and adoration.

I was so worried about favoring one because I've always seemed to 'favor' people in my life. Kids in my classroom, friends, even relatives . . . there has always seemed to be a favorite in my eyes. But, like I said, that just doesn't exist when it comes to Meg and Kate. There is no such thing. I love them both with every ounce of myself, and I couldn't imagine 'favoring' one over the other. It's a relief to know that I am not even capable of loving one more than the other. Now that they are both home and we are settling into our new version of 'normal' -- the idea of one vs. the other is just silly to me. I can't believe I worried about it for so long.

Yes, we are sleep deprived. Kate had her first few days and nights mixed up . . . and the billi-bed (now being returned to the home health care agency -- yea!) did not help her get the sleep she (WE) needed the first few nights. Last night was much better . . . up only to eat at 12:30am, 3:00am, and 6:15am . . . and right back to sleep each time. Honestly, not bad at ALL for the 5th night of life. If we have some more nights like that, I'll feel like I can handle it all.

Yes, Meg is having to adjust to it all. She's a little extra clinging these days, and she seems very apprehensive of people coming over . . . fearing that they are coming to take her somewhere other than home.

Yes, there is a lot to do around the house. More laundry, more feedings . . . finding a place for all of Kate's things . . . getting the basement guys OUT of here as fast as possible. The house keeps going as we ease into everything that is changing.

Still, all is going so, so well. It's not normal yet . . . but we're working on it.

We are HOME

Many, many apologies for leaving everyone hanging yesterday . . . .

We DID come home last night . . . it was late, but we were all together. Kate even got to bring her friend, Billi, home with her. (Jim wants credit for that joke -- for a guy that's not a joke-cracker, that was a really funny one.)

Kate's billirubin (ruben?) levels were still high late yesterday, so we are now home with her on the billi-bed. She slept on it last night, was taken back to the hospital and re-tested today, and is doing VERY well. We were able to take her on and off the bed today . . . which was just lovely because I felt like I hadn't held my baby since Thursday evening. Tomorrow we'll go back for one more round of testing, but the pediatrician seems to believe that Kate will be fine and totally billi-bed FREE by tomorrow afternoon. All in all, we are nearly over the hurdle. Man, am I glad.

I have SO much to write about . . . today was Meg's 2nd birthday (my BIG girl!), she's doing GREAT with Kate, their initial meeting was absolutely priceless (I have many pictures and so much to write about that alone), I'm tired beyond what I thought I'd be, Jim is wonderful . . .

I could go on and on. And I will -- I'll catch up -- as the week goes on.

But, for now, I'll sign off saying that it's been a wonderful first day at home with family and fabulous friends.

Happy Birthday to my girl Meg, and Welcome Home to my girl Kate. What a great day to be alive.

The Lights are On

And nobody is home . . . .

It's 1pm on Friday as I write, and I'm all discharged and ready to jet back to Marietta with our beautiful baby girl.

Unfortunately, she's not quite ready to take off with her mom and dad.

Last night at about 1AM, Kate's billiruben levels peaked at 10.9, requiring her to be placed in a 'billi-bed' for phototherapy to help her body fight jaundice.

As it turns out, Kate and I have different blood types, which causes her body to fight off a few toxins here in her first few days of life. She's going to be just fine . . . her case is just a little north of 'mild' . . . . not exactly something to freak out about just yet.

The only freaky part: we may not be bringing her home tonight.

I'm pretty certain that WON'T happen. Her levels were down slightly by 6AM this morning, which is certainly positive. The nurses and doctors are doing everything they can to get us home with Kate . . . including finding us a way to go home with a billi-bed to keep her in at our house over the weekend. They are working VERY hard to get us ALL out of here tonight . . . so I really do think it's going to happen.

And, if not, then Jim and I will move out of room 569 and into the 'family room' near the infant nursery. We'll stay here over night, snoozing on the couch and making ourselves available for feedings whenever Kate requires them. Feeding PLUS the billi-lights really will help her push out the toxins, so I'm not going anywhere that would prevent me from taking part in that process. She's nursing like a champ, and we're going to keep that up . . . at any cost.

For now, we wait . . . they've taken Kate from two billi-lights to one, and we have to wait for more blood work results to come back before we can make any further decisions. That will take all day . . . but hopefully by 7:30 or 8:00 pm, we'll be heading back to Marietta with a snoozing newborn cozy in the back seat.

Our Newest Family Member

Where do I even start?

I'll start with a huge THANK YOU to everyone that was thinking of us yesterday . . . your thoughts and prayers were certainly answered. Everything with the arrival of Kate went SO well, it's simply a miracle. How we ever became lucky enough to go through all of this without problem one, I'll never know. I'll say it was all of YOU . . . watching out for us and wishing us well.

I guess I could start at the beginning, since my last post was about 'the end.'

Jim and I woke up yesterday a little earlier than normal, both excited about all that the day had in store. I took a shower and rubbed my belly a lot, and I apologized to Kate a few times about 'eviction day' -- when she was going to come out and greet us, ready or not.

The hospital called us (which was a surprise -- we were told to call them), and we were off in a rush to get out the door and get the show started. We had to wake Meg up, which she never enjoys. My dad's response to that was, "Well, her little sister is already cramping her style, huh?" Very true.

Dropping Meg at our friend's was a little difficult . . . I knew it was going to be a fun day for her, but leaving her was still hard. It was like leaving a piece of us behind. It would have been fun to share everything with her . . . fun, but completely and totally impossible . . . so she spent the day with Mac and (I'm sure) enjoyed every minute.

Our arrival at Northside was 100% different from our previous experience in June of 2006. No uncomfortable ride, no complaining to Jim about driving more carefully, no deep breaths and longing to just BE there. Jim and I chatted on the way to the hospital, enjoying the ride together and the excitement of what was coming. Jim asked me a few times, "Do you have that nervous excited feeling in your stomach? I sure do . . . " What a cute daddy.

I had been thinking about different things the night before and on our ride . . . worst case scenarios, of course. Would my labor progress once my water was broken? Would Kate be too big -- would I have to have a C Section? Would Kate be OK -- would she take kindly to being kicked out of her happy home? Only time would tell. I kept reminding myself that everything happens for a reason -- which I LIVE by -- but, still . . . I couldn't help worrying a bit about the bad stuff. Probably because I knew I'd blame myself if something went wrong due to the delivery on (what I considered to be) my terms. That thought was still not sitting well with me as we cruised down GA 400 toward our new life as a family of four.

Arrival, check in, a visit with Dr Graham (with tears of excitement and joy), an enema (yummy -- it was at my request, actually), and a bag of saline later, the epidural was taken care of and I sat comfortably in my labor and delivery room, unable to feel my legs and waiting for Dr Graham to come back and break my water. He arrived, sat on my bed, and before I knew it -- literally -- it was done. I took a deep breath. "Here we go . . . " is all I could think. Even at that point, I'll admit that I was nervous that we were doing the right thing. Had we made the right decision.

About an hour went by, and labor did not get started. I was having contractions -- actually, I was having them all morning, even before Dr Graham came after me with the knitting needle. They weren't regular, though. And they weren't strong.

Dr Graham came back, and we talked about Pitocin. "Pit" -- he called it. A cute little nickname for the medication I had wanted to avoid.

In my mind, I was upset. I felt like I was doing exactly what I didn't want to do. For some reason, breaking my water was one thing . . . adding the drugs took it to another level. I was also well aware that we didn't have many choices. We were at the point where Kate was going to have to come out, whether I had "pit" or not. I didn't want to risk anything, and I didn't want to risk making things worse. So, I agreed to a 'whiff' of Pitocin. It wasn't much, but it was enough to kick start my contractions.

So -- at this point -- by about 1:30pm, my labor was officially induced.

The good news: it worked. It worked really well, and it worked really FAST. But 3:00pm I was 10 cm dilated, fully effaced . . . the only hang up being that Kate was stuck in my pelvis a bit, facing my right hip instead of my back.

We tried some pushing with manual head-turning, but it wasn't going to be easy doing things that way. Our nurse whipped me into some crazy leg-in-a-stir-up position, and I was on my side FEELING every contraction. I was glad to feel the contractions . . . it's not pain (thank you, epidural), but a lot of pressure. It was a familiar feeling. I can't say that I was very uncomfortable at all, really. Every contraction made me feel like I was one step closer to our second daughter, and I enjoyed it.

Jim sat patiently by my side through all of this. I drifted in and out of sleep between contractions (yes, sleep -- don't ask me how) . . . and Jim just sat and watched me. I didn't want him to leave my side, and I didn't even have to tell him. He sat next to me through each and every contraction.

By 5:15, Dr Graham was back and we were going to try pushing again. Still, Kate was stuck. Something about my pelvis being narrow -- but he had a much fancier term for it. He left me with the nurse to try some more pushing on my side . . . said he'd be back a little before 6:00pm to help.

At the next contraction, I pushed . . . one, two, three times . . . and on the third push, the nurse got all excited. She said that, literally. "That third push made me excited, let's try again next contraction."

When that contraction came --and I could really feel it -- I pushed again. Kate's head was nearly out . . . and I was in shock. I thought it was going to be a while -- at least more than just a few pushes. With one more contraction, they told me to STOP pushing. The nurse was paging the doctor to hurry up and come back . . . she was afraid I was going to deliver Kate without him in the room.

Dr Graham rushed in, teased me about going so quickly, then had me push. I pushed once. They told me to stop. The next contraction came, they told me NOT to push, and I felt the sensation of Kate coming out . . . my body pushed her out, and I didn't even have to help.

She was out and on top of my chest at 5:38 pm.

My first thought --- "She doesn't look like Meg!" How strange is that? I'm delirious, my baby is here, and all I'm thinking about is how she does not look like her sister.

Jim was taking pictures like crazy through it all . . . until I finally encouraged him to stop so he could enjoy it all. He cut her cord, he watched her get cleaned up, he carried her back over to me. He's amazing. He was absolute perfection through it all.

And that's it . . . that is the story of Kate's entry into our world. There are lots of other details . . . my parents were there the whole time, arriving around 10am and staying until Kate was about 2 hours old. Our nurse was great, very friendly and helpful. Our room had no windows . . . which, for me as a natural light fanatic, was like birthing a baby in a cave. I nursed Kate for the first time, and she took to it like a fish to water . . . so much so, that I was in shock and couldn't get over it. Meg had a great day with her friend and was picked up by Grandaddy and Nana by mid-evening, with plans to meet her new sister the next day.

Now that all is done, I don't regret our decision to go ahead and have Kate when we did. Not for one second. I don't feel like I missed out . . . and I certainly feel like I 'birthed' Kate, 100%. I look back now and remember how easy it was to push her out, how fantastic it was to hold her for the first time, and how lucky I am to have done it all with a wonderful husband right by my side.

Our family is one member larger now, and my heart is 100 times larger with love. Here is to our new beginning, Jim, me, Meg, and Kate.

Thanks again for everything you all did to help . . . and rest assured that there are a few more 'baby blogs' to come over the next few days.

Kate Allison - 6/18/2008 at 5:38

Kate Allison was born at 5:38 PM. 8 lbs 4 oz, 20 inches.

Both Mom and Kate are healthy and doing well, we'll post some more pictures and an update later.

Thanks for everyone's kind thoughts and prayers.

Jim

Hospital Update #2

1:00 - Not Much Progress

2:00 - A little pitocin

3:00 - 10 CM, 0 station

Hospital Update #1

Here is a quick update on our day so far, everything is going well.

7:15 - Call from the Hospital to come on in.

8:00 - We dropped off Meg with our friends the Brune's.

9:00 - Checked in to the Hospital

12:00 - Epideral in place and the Dr. broke Heather's water.

I'll be sure to update with more later.

Jim

The End

I spent a lot of time today thinking about 'the end.'

Tonight is the end of the wait for Kate.

Today was the end of my life as a mother of one, the end of my abilities to dote 100% of my attention on Meg. The end of the special bond I have with my one-and-only. I was sad thinking about this particular 'end.'

I went to get a pedicure while Meg napped, and I thought, "This is the end of this luxury for a little while . . ."

I'm sitting here writing this blog -- spending my usual obnoxious amount of evening time on the computer -- and I realize this will be ending tonight. Friday night, when we come home, everything will be different.

Aside from my dramatic end-of-line thoughts, we also did a lot of fun stuff just for Meg today . . . swimming, a trip out for ice cream, unlimited playdoh fun, chicken nuggets & fries for dinner (which I refered to as 'the last supper' for Mommy and Meg), and then I stayed with Meg in her bed tonight until she fell all the way to sleep. I tried to soak up every minute of (what feels like) my last day with her.

It was as I was laying there with Meg tonight that I really tried to turn my thoughts around . . . and I started to think of this as more of a beginning.

Sure, tomorrow everything is going to change, and days like today simply won't exist any more. There is an end there. But, there is also a huge beginning . . . the beginning of sharing my life with two daughters, two lives that we have created for our family.

Tomorrow is the beginning of a lot of new challenges and a lot of new excitement. It's the beginning of the rest of our lives.

Still, I'm conflicted.

Nobody prepared me for this . . . how I'm feeling today. None of my friends have told me how hard it is to welcome the second and not mourn the loss of 'just one' a little bit. How much you love the first, that you hate the idea of feeling like you are taking something away from them by adding one more to the family.

Dr Graham did tell me that I should never feel like Meg is missing out . . . that I'm giving her a sibling, which is something she'll treasure for her entire life. Tomorrow is the beginning of that, and there is no sorrow there. At least . . . there isn't supposed to be. But I just can't help feeling sad about it all a tiny bit.

I'm trying to be positive and think about what we are moving forward to enjoy . . . but today was a kind of end that makes me a bit sad.

Looking forward . . . tomorrow is a BIG day. I'm getting so nervous about it all. I hope we've made the right decision (to go in and have mywater broken, I mean -- not the decision to have another kid!). I hope it all goes how Dr Graham has promised, that there are no complications. I guess all of those worries will end in about 12 hours time.

Here is to the end of our family as we know it and the beginning of a brand new life.
Wish me luck, think of our family, and I'll be sure to let you know when Kate has arrived.

(And this will mark THE END of the 'When will Kate be here?' blogs, for sure.)

Today We . . .

Went to the Post Office, mailed baby gifts to friends and bought stamps for Kate's birth annoucement (yes, I've already designed it!).

Went to Target -- which I'm convinced is Meg's favorite store.

Grocery shopped -- the kind of trip where the cart gets SO heavy, it's hard to turn down the aisles. I actually had to let Meg walk along beside me because I needed her seat space for more items.

Meg napped . . . I did laundry, moved some things to the basement, put up a shower curtain in our finally completed bathroom, changed Kate's crib sheet (it's been a kitty bed for a little while now), set up a down-stairs diaper changing station, placed a print order for an HD Portraits client, and ordered some pictures for myself and our family.

Had the car washed -- inside and out. Meg talked to EVERYONE while we were there . . . I'm pretty sure they were glad to see us go when our car was ready.

Cleaned and reorganized the garage, as much as possible with basement stuff still taking up 30% of the space.

Made dinner.

My mother-in-law said that she thinks I'm going to have the baby tonight . . . something about a big burst of energy many women get right before they go into labor. I'm not sure if mine was energy or just knowing that tomorrow is my last day before Kate . . . either way, it's been one heck of a day.

Jim gets home in about 90 minutes . . . and I've made a list of things for him to do, too :)

Manic Monday

If you are a fan of the The Bangles -- which I totally was in the late 80s and still am today -- then you know this tune . . .

It's just another manic Monday

I wish it was Wednesday

'Cause that's my due day

My I'm-gonna-have-a-baby day

It's just another manic Monday

Okay, so I tweaked the lyrics a bit to fit my own story, but you remember the song, right?

Today is Monday . . . 48 hours until delivery. I thought for awhile that Kate would debut on her own before Wednesday, but I'm giving up on that. She's happy where she is . . . I hope she doesn't hate me for kicking her out mid-week.

We are grocery shopping, visiting the post office, returning items to Target (WITH a receipt becuase, at Target, you have to sign away your first born if you don't have the reciept) . . . basically filling the day with many things to help get us get closer to Kate, one hour at a time.

I know -- you are probably SO tired of hearing about this -- I'm very sorry. I just have nothing else on my mind.

Well, nothing else except a little fear-on-the-brain. I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit scared and overwhelmed at the idea of TWO kids by the end of this week. I realize it's a bit too late for second guessing . . . but, it's not really second guessing that's going on. We WANT two girls, for sure. I'm just a bit terrified of having two . . . of mothering two girls . . . of starting that whole job in just two days.

Maybe it's because I KNOW that I'm delivering Wednesday, so I have time to agonize over this. I don't know why, but this weekend . . . it all really started to hit me hard.

Changing two sets of diapers.

Bathing two girls.

Feeding a newborn AND a toddler -- each of whom has very unique needs.

Entertaining a toddler and caring for a newborn, at the SAME time.

Teaching and raising two females in this crazy, crazy world.

And that's just the beginning . . .

No need for the 'you'll do great' comments. I know I'll make it. I know this will be fantastic, and that our family won't miss a beat. I keep telling myself that MILLIONS and BILLIONS of people have two kids (and more, certainly) . . . so we'll be fine, I realize.

Just staring down the barrel at it makes it that much more intimidating.

So, Manic Monday it is. I'm freaking out a bit, but . . . it really doesn't matter. We are officially on the clock, counting down to Delivery Day.

Daddy's Girl

Happy Father's Day to Jim . . . he's a wonderful dad, very devoted husband (despite how much I might complain about his work schedule), and I truly love celebrating a day that is all about him.

As you can see, we've done a lot of celebrating already . . .

We made pancakes for Daddy . . . Meg was a big helper.

I told her that pancake batter was not nearly as yummy as some of the other batters we've made together, but she had to taste it for herself before she'd believe me.

We brought the pancakes up to Daddy so he could have breakfast in bed. Daddy was SO excited, so Meg was SO proud.

Meg gave Daddy his 'buzz' present that she picked out for him earlier this week . . . she had a really hard time keeping it a secret! (Um, she was yelling BUZZ! as soon as I mentioned giving the gift to Daddy.)

Then Daddy and Meg had a game of tickle . . . Meg loves to tickle Daddy's chin.

Next, it was off to our pool for some family fun in the sun. Meg LOVES the slide -- look at our big girl, arms up and ready for anything! (click to view larger)

She also loves to stand like a cheerleader . . . she always asks ME to do this with her, but really Daddy is the only one that can do it right.

Happy Father's Day to you all out there. Enjoy some time with those men we all love so very much for making our lives so very fantastic.

Ups and Downs

I woke up this morning at 5:30 am with some cramping . . . and I thought today was the day. I was hoping that the cramping wouldn't go away. Jim and I were both kinda excited. But, the cramping faded . . . then it came back . . . then I felt fine . . . at 6:15 I took a shower, then snoozed again for a while.

That pretty much sums up the entire day -- feeling lousy, napping, feeling OK. Today has been and up-and-down kind of day. I've pretty much felt like crap all day, spending about 75% of the day on the couch. The few times I've felt OK, we ran a couple of errands and tried to enjoy some family time.

It's been a LONG Saturday.

I wish my dad could see me. He can tell by looking at me if I don't feel good or if something is not quite right. I bet if he'd seen me today, he think my labor was pending. I will say that when I look at myself in the mirror, my freckles are out of control. And, when I look back at pictures of me when I was in labor with Meg, my freckles were ridiculous then, too. It's the hormones, I know . . . maybe they've kicked in and tomorrow will be the day.

My oldest, dear friend -- the one who is due in just about a month -- told me this evening that she felt really lousy the day before she went into labor with her second child.

Here's to hoping. If I don't have Kate this weekend, then I guess I just have a few days of feeling crappy to look forward to. It's OK, either way . . . Wednesday is just 3 days away.

My One-And-Only

I got my 50mm lens back today . . . the lens I thought I'd ruined when I fell in the pool a few weeks back. I was so excited to have it, I went a little nuts and took a million pictures of my one-and-only this afternoon.

She's getting SO big. And, from what I've heard, she's going to seem SO much bigger next week when her sister arrives.

I had to share -- I couldn't wait. Enjoy my Meg.

No Such Thing as "Later" Around Here

As I'm bustling through the house today, I find myself thinking (in my normal, lazy fashion), "Oh, I'll do that later . . ." Then I stop, think about it, and end up doing it now. There just isn't time for 'later' around here. The way we are living, any minute could change things . . . so procrastination is not an option.

I've done a lot of stuff since Meg went down for her nap about an hour ago. Normally, my first instinct is to run to the computer and check email, etc . . . but today I did things like laundry, changing sheets, dishes, trash, and other sundry household chores. There might not be time to do these things later, should I go into labor.

As for the big question . . . waiting until later to have Kate . . . I think we've made our decision to go ahead with the doctor's suggestion and have her next Wednesday. We won't wait until later for that, either.

I've completely come to terms with my 'missing out on labor' issues. I don't think I'll be missing out . . . as more than one friend has told me, I'm NOT missing the labor. I'm still going to have the contractions and push this little one out. Yes, I'm missing the spontaneity of it all, but I think that I'm OK with it at this point. Actually, it's kind of nice to have my sights set on a date, to have my plans made out, and to know what's going to happen. And, I have to admit that living on the edge like this is getting a bit exhausting. Call me selfish, but it's the truth.

There are just SO many good reasons for us to do this, we've decided it's the best option for us. It's not induction, there are no medications . . . it's just kick-starting the process with a tiny little hook that looks like a crochet needle. Once my water breaks, it's all up to me and Kate.

And, I don't think I'll look back on it all with regret. I'll probably look back on it with relief. I'm sure I'll tell the story that Kate was perfectly happy hanging out with me until I finally decided that it was time . . . that she might never have come out. She'll be labeled my 'stubborn' or 'loafing' child that didn't want to come out and meet the world. I'm sure I'll have a good story to tell in the end.

Next Wednesday -- and no later -- could be Kate's birthday. That is, as I've said a million times now, unless she decides to come earlier. Maybe now that I'm relaxing about it all, she will. That would be awesome.

Oh, and Jim's conference? I think that he's found a way to make it all work. And I don't think he'll ever again say something as self-centered as he did in the doctor's office yesterday . . . I think he realized that, when it comes to the labor and delivery of our kids, I am the one that calls the shots. I'm the one who gets to be self-centered and make the decisions. He was pretty sorry about it all last night, so we are moving forward with our plan and not worrying about his work obligations (well, at least I'M not worried about any of it!).

Gotta go get some stuff done around here . . . I want to enjoy my time with Meg and Jim later this evening, when everyone is home. My focus has shifted from having Kate to enjoying my small family for just a few more days . . . how fast these days will go and and quickly our life is going to change.

Thanks to everyone who wrote their opinions and experiences . . . it has all been so helpful. Any words of encouragement, now that our decision is made, are always welcome ;)

Still Pondering . . .

Today, Dr Graham signed me up to come in next Wednesday, June 18th, and deliver Kate. He said he can't actually induce me . . . I'm too far along at 4cm . . . but he said I should come in and let him break my water.

The whole conversation was a bit of a whirlwind . . . we were chatting about it all while he had his hand up my you-know-where, finding no progress since last week (yeah, I think any kind of progress at this point would put me in labor). I said something about not being sure if I wanted to do that, and Dr Graham looked at me like I had 3 heads.

He said, "It's safe. She's ready. You'll come to the hospital, you'll get the epidural, and then I'll break your water. You'll never feel a single contraction. You'll have that baby in about two hours time."

I took the appointment slip and asked again, "What if I decide I don't want to do this?" Dr Graham told me to just call his nurse and let her know, and we'd schedule my 39 week appointment for next Thursday . . . if I choose NOT to deliver on Wednesday.

I can't decide what I want to do, and Jim -- my loving husband that is supposed to be right by my side through all of this -- is NO HELP. He's got that DAMN work conference starting Sunday, and clearly that is the only thing on his mind. A Wednesday delivery is not very 'convenient' for him . . . it's the last day of the conference, and he is scheduled to give a presentation that morning.

When Dr Graham said, "You'll come in about 8am on Wednesday . . . "
Jim piped up with, "Could we make around 11am instead?"

I'm really mad at him right now. On top of deciding if this is what I want to do for my body and for our baby, now I have to worry about whether or not it's convenient for my work-a-holic husband. We've been arguing about priorities ever since we left the doctor's office.

But -- I'll tell you -- the thing that is bothering me most is the idea of not feeling a single contraction. I know it's crazy . . . but I can't really stand the idea of NOT feeling anything . . . of doing it all in a way that makes me feel a bit like I'm going to miss out on the real experience of having our second daughter. There are only a few times in my life when I will get to have this . . . Meg was one, Kate is two, and that phantom 3rd baby we've always talked about may (or may not) be three. That's it.

Pregnancy and childbirth . . . nursing and infant care . . . it's all so important to me. At this stage in my life, it's what I do. It's what I've always thought about as a woman . . . it's been something I've dreamed of since I was a little girl. If I have Dr Graham break my water, am I rushing things? Am I stealing my own experience from myself?

But then . . . my parents piped in with one really big reason for me to go on and do this next week . . . a concern they have to which I had not given much thought.

Kate's size. She's only getting bigger in there . . . gaining somewhere around 1/2 pound with each week. I'm actually losing weight at this point. There is no where for Kate to go . . . so her extra pounds are restricting me and keeping me from adding more poundage in these last few weeks.

Meg was 7 1/2 pounds when delivered at 37 weeks. That means that Kate could conceivably be somewhere between 8 and 9 pounds next week . . . and that's quite a bit bigger. During Meg's delivery, they brought in an extra nurse to help because they thought she was too big for my pelvis and that her shoulder might get stuck . . . at 7 1/2 pounds. My mom is worried that Kate could get so big that I'd have to go with a C-Section.

Dr Graham hasn't voiced one concern about Kate's size. I don't know if it's something I should be worried about or not. But, it is something else to think about.

And then there is the convenience factor. Going in next Wednesday morning would be very convenient for me and for scheduling care for Meg (NOT convenient for Jim, clearly).

And then there is the 'light at the end of the tunnel' factor. I'd know when this would be coming to an end.

And then there is the Dr Graham factor. HE'D be certain to deliver Kate. What a treat that would be.

Ugh. I'm at the same spot I was yesterday, mulling all this over. But the difference is that today, I have my appointment scheduled. And it's not really induction . . . just a kick-start to Kate's delivery.

Do I want to cancel or not?

Something tells me that -- even with all the pros -- I'm going to cancel the appointment and wait it out one more week. I've made it this far, I think that I'll be happier in the long run if I wait just one more week. At 40 weeks, I think I'll be game for the water-breaking idea.

But then again, I need to think about it some more.
I just don't know.

To Induce or Not to Induce

This is the dilemma of the day.

Tomorrow, I'll see Dr Graham again, and I'm quite sure this topic will come up. I'm 38 weeks now . . . so if we are going to induce, then most likely we'll schedule it at tomorrow's appointment to occur sometime next week (39 weeks).

Do I want to?

I've been saying NO all along. Not that I have any problems with induction . . . and not that I think it won't work (dude, I'm like 1/2 way there already) . . . I just don't know if it's the solution for me.

With Meg, my labor started totally naturally, and I loved it. I didn't have anything to help her along . . . naturally, I did have some stuff to help me along in the process . . . but Meg came all on her own, in her own time and with her own readiness.

The experience I had was just amazing. It was exactly what I'd always envisioned labor and delivery to be like. No complications, no problems . . . just me and Meg, sweating it out until the end. I feel like I got to have my dream birthing experience.

Now with Kate, I am envisioning the same fantastic thing. I really haven't wanted to be induced . . . I wanted the whole 'natural' thing to take place again. The excitement of my water breaking (or not), where we'll be, who will keep Meg . . . it's all such a wonderful thing to look forward to. But, as each day passes and I get more and more pregnant . . . I wonder if maybe helping her along with a little pitocin might be the way to go.

In my list-making fashion (forgive me if you tire of them . . . I'm quite the list maker always), I've made a list of Pros and Cons for ME in this should-I-induce-or-not situation:

Pros

• I'll know exactly when Kate will arrive, making care for Meg easier.
• And it will make it easier for Jim to plan his work schedule, too.
• No worries about her getting too much bigger . . . I'm already pretty sure she's bigger than Meg, so who knows if that will be tough on me or not.
• I'm already so far along, it can't possibly be TOO complicated or take TOO long.
• The end of this situation will be set in stone.
• Dr Graham would most certainly be the one to deliver Kate.
  

Cons

• Not exactly the most natural way to go about it.
• We'll miss out on the spontaneity of going into labor on our own.
• Haven't done it before, so I don't know what to expect . . . hoping for no complications, but there is no guarantee.

I realize there are way more pros than cons . . . but that first 'con' is really very important to me. There is just something about kicking Kate out before she is ready that bothers me. I know people do it ALL the time . . . that it's safe . . . I just can't decide if it is for me. And, really -- I've waited this long -- it can't possibly be THAT much longer. I'm not so miserable that I can't stand it a bit longer, honestly. Can't I just wait it out?

Many of you reading this have made the decision to be induced . . . and I certainly make NO judgements or think that it is wrong in any way. I think it's a very personal decision . . . a lot like breastfeeding. What is right for one mom and her family may not be right for another. Please don't think I think induction is wrong, I just can't decide if it is the way I want to go with this pregnancy.

The timing that Dr Graham has in mind will ultimately help us make the decision to induce or not next week. Jim has his big work conference beginning on Sunday . . . so an induction on Monday or Tuesday probably wouldn't be great for him. And, there is no rush, so if that is when Dr Graham wants to do it, we'll just pass. If he's available later next week . . . that's when the decision will be thrown back to Jim and I . . . and we'll have to decide what we want to do.

Jim's sister was scheduled to be induced but came a day or so before the induction. Maybe if I schedule her birth, Kate will decide, "Nope, I'm ready NOW," and surprise us early. That would be a best-case-scenario . . . I'd rest easy knowing exactly when Kate is scheduled to arrive, then I'd get the joy of the spontaneous labor before her induction date.

Jim and I have a lot to think about. Maybe Kate will come today and make everything that much easier.

Passing the Time

Things I've done in the last week that I thought I would do after Kate's arrival . . .

• Cleaned out and reorganized my office
• Lost a lot of sleep . . . I've been up since 5am for no reason at all, other than I'm uncomfortable
• Took care of Meg's (very small) birthday party invites (well, the invites aren't small, but the party is)
• Went to Newnan twice . . . including today to drop Meg off with Grandaddy and Nana for a night of spoiling
• Finished ALL of my HD Portraits client work, leaving nobody disappointed or waiting for images
• Bought Jim Father's Day presents
• Hosted two 'pool playdates' with friends and their children
• Started Kate's baby book
• Watched our contractor complete the basement bathroom (as of today!)

Just passing the time. Each day is one day closer, right?

I have nothing else to write about . . . and, from the blog comments I've been getting, you guys are most interested in the Kate updates, anyway. Thanks for all the well-wishes and notes of encouragement . . . I sincerely appreciate them. They make me feel just a little less alone in this situation. If you have any questions about anything or can think of something fun for me to blog about, don't hesitate to let me know . . . that would give me just one more thing to do to help pass the time.

I Cried Last Night

No, not because I'm still pregnant (which, as of 4pm Monday, I still am).

Meg was only operating at about 80% yesterday . . . and her normal bedtime routine just was not enough for her. She typically goes right to sleep after a few stories, but she was still awake 25 minutes after our 'night nights' last night. When I went in to check on her, she sat up . . . and with the saddest look on her face, she said, "Rock" (Which, at our house, means 'Please rock me Mommy.').


So, I picked her up and walked her into Kate's room . . . where the rocking chair now resides . . . and we rocked. I turned on the bedtime music in Kate's room, and Meg and I sat in the rocking chair together, gently moving back and forth and listening to the soft nursery sounds. The sun was setting outside, so as we rocked, the room was slowly getting darker and darker . . . and by the time Meg's eyes were finally getting heavy, the only light in the room was from a little lamb nightlight in the corner.


I looked at Meg. I watched her eyes drooping . . . felt her body relaxing . . . and I started to feel a lot of emotions.


With her two year old body curled around my big belly, I thought about that moment when Meg comes into our hospital room and meets Kate for the first time. I envisioned her climbing into the bed with me and examining her sister from head to toe. I wondered what she'll say, how she'll react. I pictured the smile on her face and the little sounds Kate would make in response to her big sister.

One phrase kept running through my head, "We have two daughters."


The tears came. Silent tears, the kind that fill up your eyes and spill over without warning. My heart was flooded with all of these thoughts . . . it was a feeling that overwhelmed me. I looked away from Meg, and more tears came . . . and I really started to cry.


It felt SO good. The crying was so refreshing, so cleansing. Not one tear was shed in fear of what's to come or in pain for what I'm experiencing now. They were tears of joy, tears of excitement. I can't believe how lucky our family is. What could I ever have done so right in my life to be exactly where I wanted to be . . . to get everything I'd always wanted?


After about 10 minutes of letting these emotions wash over me and soaking them in, I finally scooped Meg up and put her down in her room. I pushed the hair out of her face and wiped my own tears.



It was a great feeling. One I'll never forget. Sure, you can chalk the emotion up to the raging hormonal imbalance in my totally pregnant body . . . but I'm not ashamed. I'm so incredibly grateful for everything I have. I think the crying was the only way I could cope with the wonderful things that our about to happen at our house.

Sunday

Meg is much better today . . . no more episodes last night, thank goodness. She woke up relatively smiley and got a lot of spoiling today . . . which, by the day's end, caught up with us. She started to act a bit like she did after her 5 day stay with Grandaddy and Nana.

It's ok with me. When your kid is sick, you'll do anything they want to make them feel better.

Jim is bathing her right now, and we are hoping for a peacful night full of SLEEP and quiet. I sure could use some rest . . . I barely slept last night.


Aside from making Meg feel better, the only other event of the day is that I've thrown in the towel. I've given up. I wash my hands of it all. I think I'm going to be pregnant forever, and there's nothing I can do about it. Kate and I will walk around together in unison until the end of time.

So . . . maybe I'm a bit dramatic . . . throwing in the towel at 37 weeks and 6 days might be a little bit silly. I could just say we are just settling in for the long haul and skipping all the labor-inducing antics from here on out.

Like I said yesterday, everything happens for a reason. We'll figure out why Kate hung around so long some day, I guess.

No Baby, But a Sick Meg

Meg hasn't been herself all day . . . I knew this morning that we were in for something, I just wasn't sure what. I think it's mom's intuition. I had a feeling something wasn't right, but I kept ignoring it and telling myself that I was crazy.

Late this morning, we headed out to Ikea with the idea that we could walk all over the store and enjoy the air conditioning. After a few hours of walking and a few Swedish meatballs, Jim, Meg, and I went (at the last minute and totally unplanned) to the Virginia Highlands Summerfest to meet Jim's sister for just a bit. The festival was HOT . . . fun, but just too hot for me and Meg. We were back home at about 4:30 . . . but, for the entire ride back to the house, Jim and I were a little worried that we'd over-heated Meg.

Meg had been OK most of the day . . . just really tired at Ikea and totally out of it at the festival. We attributed it to the fact that she had pretty much missed a nap entirely. I hate doing that to her . . . but for one day, we thought it would be OK. She didn't seem SICK.

But things didn't get better when she finally got some sleep. We thought she would recharge and cool off once we got home, but that was not the case.

She was scorching hot when she woke up from her late nap she took after we returned to the house. I gave her a cool bath (playing it up as 'the pool' with pool toys and everything) and gave her something to reduce her fever/body temperature. We weren't sure WHAT was making her so hot. Seriously, I've never felt the kid so on fire.

By dinner, she was back to her smiley self. Not eating much . . . but playing and coloring and giggling. Her fever was gone . . . so was our worry.

Then, at 9:30pm, I heard a cough from her bedroom. I knew.

She had gotten sick all over her bed. I cleaned her, Jim cleaned the bed . . . and then I proceeded to freak out because her exceedingly hot body temperature was back. A temp of 103.1 in her ear and under her arm. I packed a bag for the emergency room.

Now -- I realize, this may sound a bit like an overreaction. But, please keep in mind that Meg has NEVER EVER had a fever like that. I have barely had to use the thermometer. Most fevers have been teething related . . . she didn't even run a fever when she had her one-and-only ear infection. And, yeah, my hormones are raging since I'm about to give birth any minute now. So, what might have been a regular old sick-kid-situation was, to me, a desperate lets-take-her-to-the-ER scenario.

I calmed down and called Egleston Children's Hospital. The nurse gave us good info . . . and she assured me that her illness was NOT related to the heat we'd experienced at the festival earlier in the day. I was so worried that Meg was having some kind of heat stroke or heat-related reaction. I thought I had done this to our darling baby. The nurse's guess was that Meg was probably already coming down with something earlier in the day (which made me feel worse for stealing her nap from her) and that she was most likely just fine.

We gave Meg some more Tylenol, let her watch some Go Diego Go, and then rocked her to sleep. It's nearly midnight now . . . nearly 2 hours since the puking and nearly one hour since she's been asleep. I hope we are in the clear. She's still hot to the touch, so I'm going to give her more medicine at 2am. Hell, I'm up half the night peeing anyway . . . so it won't be an issue. (I doubt I'll sleep much tonight, anyway.)

I did call my dad around 11pm to give him the report, and he was so sweet. He could tell how upset I was -- the crying gave it away, I guess. He kept reassuring me that this was NOT life-or-death and that I was probably reacting so strongly because of my 'condition.' He's right. I needed to hear it. It made me feel a lot better.

I swear to you -- EVERYTHING happens for a reason. What if I had gone into labor with Kate yesterday or sometime today? Then someone else would be handling my sick Meg . . . and that would totally kill me. I'd hate for her to have to rely on the comfort of someone other than mom or dad.

I can honestly say now that I am OK with Kate's delay . . . it happened for a reason, and now I know why.

More tomorrow . . . hopefully about an all-better Meg. And maybe about a soon-to-arrive Kate.

Friday, 8:30pm

Still no Kate.

Went to the pool, played for a LOOOONG time, listened to all my neighbor friends say, "You haven't had that baby YET?"

I'm wearing the PJs I wore the night I went into labor with Meg. Maybe they'll bring us luck.