art truth life

To say that life can change in an instant would be an innumerable understatement. Let's start with the old adage "you'll just know when it's time." Labor has apparently gotten a rap for being, well, laborious. So much so that us lady folk are conditioned to think that our bodies will tell us when our little bundle is about ready to enter the world (even in those very early stages). I certainly had an inkling -- lots of Braxton Hicks contractions in the days leading up, some painful and regular enough to prompt an 11pm call to the doctor 2 nights before the real deal. But to say that I definitively knew would be another, well, overstatement. Truthfully, I didn't. The stories lady friends and family share lead you to believe that your contractions will at some point feel like every other woman's -- mine absolutely didn't. I'm not sure if I was being overly cautious (let's just say the idea of "thinking" you are in labor only to go to the hospital and be sent home is more than a nightmare in the making -- for me at least) or if I was in denial that even though I had been thinking he was coming, I could have actually been correct in my prediction and not just hopeful. Either way you slice it, I was indeed in labor and the only two people (one person, one furry person, errr dog) that had any clue were Husband and Stella. Waking up in the middle of a contraction isn't exactly how you picture labor beginning, but hello body, it's nice to know you have a mind of your own. Over the next hour, Husband began slowly packing things up -- the hospital bag was packed (except toiletries), so he was calmly walking around asking me what I still needed, wanted to wear, etc., all the while stopping every 6-7 minutes to help me up from where I lay on my side in the bed to lean on him through each contraction. After about an hour (and contractions that were getting no closer together mind you and no stronger), Husband had already started the car to warm it up, and I had managed to waddle around enough to put on some respectable clothing -- I kid -- it was sweatpants, no socks (in the beginning of January) and the only shoes that I could squeeze my feet into (and trust me when I say that gold Nine West flats aren't terrible flattering with sweatpants). Alas, I was still in shock or denial and not totally convinced we were having a baby. But, Husband, he knew, and thank goodness for it.

Going into labor at 1am certainly has its perks. No traffic! Easy parking at the hospital! On the way my contractions jumped from 7 minutes apart to 4 in what seemed like no time. On a side note, my math brain never quite grasped that when they said contractions should be 5 minutes apart for about an hour before going to the hospital that they could a) change so quickly and b) not be 5 minutes apart on the dot, but rather 5-7 or some variation, and you could still be in labor! Sheesh. That's one tidbit to retain for next time around.

I'll spare the details of the next 11 hours and fastforward to 12:52pm, when that precious little baby landed on my chest. All 6 pounds 7 ounces and 19.5 inches of him. He was (and still is) perfection. I think that's a right of passage that every new Mama just know her little one is perfect, but he truly was.

Fastforward another two weeks and here are some things I want to make absolute sure I never forget: