Bailey's Birth Story

You may have noticed that I've tweaked my blog a bit, and gotten rid of Bailey's and Gerry's birth stories.  The reason for this being that, while I'm incredibly proud and while their births were an amazing thing for me to experience, not everyone who reads this blog wants to be greeted with a birth story as soon as they stumble upon it.  I'm not deleting my birth stories altogether, though, because I would be heartbroken to "lose" them.  Instead, I'm writing each of them in their own blog post so you can all choose whether to read them or skip them...instead of them smacking you in the face the second you make the mistake of discover the wondering of visiting my blog.

So...here's Bailey's story.

I found out I was pregnant on October 11, 2009...two weeks before my wedding (oops).  Scott was shocked at first, but then a big smile slowly crept across his face.  I cried and said, "My mom's gonna be so mad at me."  But once the shock wore off...oh, it was glorious.  I had wanted to be a mother for as long as I could remember, and now it was happening. 

Being from an Italian Catholic family, I was afraid to tell my family right away (pregnant before marriage?!), but I will never, ever (for as long as I live) forget the night we told all of our friends.  It was the night of our wedding, and we had all gone to a hotel after the reception to continue the celebration.  Everyone was gathered in our room talking and laughing and Miley Cyrus' "Party In the USA" was playing on the radio.  I'd had to beg Scott not to tell anyone pretty much all that week, but he wore me down and I gave him the go-ahead.  He walked into the hotel room and burst out to all of our friends, "Hey, guys...me and Jess are pregnant!"  And there was a big cheer and lots of "I knew it!"s, and we were swept up in hugs and kisses and happy congratulations...it was one of the best moments of my life, and I will always remember it.

As the weeks passed, we told my family and our co-workers, and I reveled in the feeling of being pregnant.  I gave in to my cravings for Slim Jims and canned peaches, and Scott made sure that we had both in the house at all times.  I was exhausted, and passed out before 9 most nights.  We found out on January 19, 2010 (my parents' anniversary) that our baby was a girl, and I think Scott and I were both in a bit of shock for a solid day before wrapping our heads around the fact that in a few months' time we'd have a daughter.  My parents and Scott's helped us get the nursery ready -- soft pink and cream walls with ballerina bear bedding.  We registered for all the things we thought we'd need to bring a new life into this world, and I looked forward to every doctor's appointment and ultrasound we had scheduled.

I watched in awe as my belly grew bigger and bigger, and I documented the first time a stranger noticed that I was pregnant and not just chubby.  I was oddly thrilled the day I looked down and realized that I couldn't see my feet anymore.  The first time I felt a little flutter, I got teary and forced Scott to keep his hand on my stomach for the better part of the evening, even though we both knew it was too early for him to feel anything just yet.  I floated through each day in a cloud of happiness, and swore that I could stay pregnant forever.

In my third trimester, the doctor moved my due date back 10 days to June 21st and I didn't mind a bit.  The 21st is my grandfather's birthday and I was feeling fantastic at this point, appreciating my body more than at any other point in my life.  As June approached, I had weekly appointments with my obstetrician, and I never got over the thrill of hearing my daughter's heartbeat each time.  Towards the end, she was a little ninja in there, always kicking and rolling, and she used to push back against the doctor's hand when we tried to listen to her with the doppler.    By June 21st, my due date, she was showing no signs of being ready, so the doctor set up an induction for the following Monday, June 28th, and off we went to enjoy our last week as just Scott and Jess.

We spent the week hanging out at home and occasionally going out to a movie or for ice cream, packing our bags for the hospital, gazing into what would be our baby's room, and getting the "final touches" ready for her arrival.  I spent a lot of time sitting still and quiet, gently stroking my belly and committing to memory what it felt like when she tumbled and rolled in there, knowing that I'd miss this experience when it was all over.

On the night of Saturday, June 26th Scott and I stayed up late, playing video games (him) and reading (me) in between folding loads of laundry.  I remember being SO HOT and munching cups full of ice cubes all night.  We got our laundry finished and went up to bed around 2am.  At 4:30 Sunday morning, I woke up with a stomach ache.  After a minute it went away and I fell back to sleep.  A few minutes later I felt a quick, sharp pain, and sat straight up in bed.  I waited another few minutes, and there it was again.  Thinking this was "the real deal", I waddled down the hall to the bathroom, called my doctor who confirmed that I was officially in labor, and then shaved my legs and combed my hair in between contractions.  I waited until I was completely ready to go before waking Scott up, then shook him a little until he was semi-coherent.  He blinked a few times and then slowly rolled out of bed.  "I don't think you understand," I growled.  "We need to go NOW."  While he threw some clothes on, I grabbed my pillow and went downstairs to call my mom and let her know we were on our way to the hospital.

We got to the hospital just before 6am and I was immediately taken into a room, changed into a gown, and given an exam to see how far along things were progressed.  As soon as the nurse said, "You're 6cm dilated", I asked for an epidural. It took a solid hour or so before the anesthesiologist arrived, and I spent the time breathing through contractions and snapping at Scott whenever he came too close (poor guy wasn't very good at the whole "comforting your wife during labor" the first time around).  My mom got there while we were waiting, and she massaged my belly and helped me breath through the pain of the contractions until the anesthesiologist (and my blessed epidural) arrived.  After that, it was smooth sailing.

Once the pain subsided, I was able to enjoy being in labor and, oh, I was so excited to finally be meeting my little girl.  I chatted with my parents, my in-laws, my sister and brother-in-law, who all showed up at the hospital when they found out the baby was coming.  Bets were made on when the baby would make her appearance (my mom and the doc both agreed she'd be here by lunchtime), and I wondered to myself what she would look like and if she would recognize me when we first laid eyes on each other.  In between my excited thoughts, I fought off the sadness of not being pregnant anymore by the time the sun went down that day, and I focused on the fantasy of holding my daughter in my arms after all these months of carrying her.

After a little while, the epidural began to wear off and I started feeling a bit of pressure on my right side.  The next time a nurse walked into the room, I asked her for more of the juice.  After a quick examination, she told me I was at 10cm and ready to push and that the doctor would be right in.

This is it...this is it...this is it.

I was nervous and scared and thrilled and euphoric all at the same time.  I heard my mom's voice in my ear whispering for me to "Push.  Push, push, push" and I focused on Scott holding my leg and doing his best to encourage me while staying a safe distance away, and I thought about how it would never be just the two of us again.  In the span of a few seconds, in the blink of an eye, our whole relationship ran through my mind.  The first day we met, 8 years before.  Our first date.  First kiss.  College graduation.  Our first trip together.  Vacations.  Holidays.  New jobs.  Scott proposing to me in New York City at Christmastime.  Moving into our first home together.  That positive pregnancy test and all the emotions that went with it.  Our wedding day and all the months afterward that led us to this moment, this place, the birth of our first child.

And with those thoughts in my mind, I pushed.  We were going to meet our daughter.  Today was the day, and I was ready.

At 11:48am on June 27th, 2010, Bailey Reece made her way into this world.  She was 7lbs even and had a head full of dark, dark hair.  The doctor laid her on my chest, and she looked up at me with the most alert blue eyes and grabbed onto my finger.  Here was my daughter.  The baby I had dreamed for and wondered about these last 9 months was right here, in my arms.  And she was perfect.

 
By the end of the night, our hospital room had been flooded with visitors.  Both my family and Scott's came by, and all of our friends.  Calls were made and received, and conversations were had about who she looked like and what she would be like.  And through it all, I kept thinking I'm a mother now.  We did it.  Our daughter was here and she was safe and we had the rest of our lives to watch her grow up and see the little person she would become.

We brought her home two days later and walked her up to the nursery that Scott and my dad (and, later on, both of our mothers) had so painstakingly worked on to make perfect for her.  Scott laid her gently in the crib and we welcomed her home.

A little while later we brought her downstairs and put her in the baby swing to rest while we put in a movie and wound down from the excitement of the past few days.  I couldn't help staring at her every few seconds and marveling, over and over again, how lucky we were.  How grateful.  How blessed.  She just kind of looked around, her eyes falling on an object here or there every few minutes, and I couldn't help noting again and again how perfect she was.  From her big blue eyes (courtesy of me) to her chubby little toes (courtesy of Scott), she was amazing.  Wonderful.  Perfect.

Ours. 

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Bailey Reece
Born June 27, 2010 at 11:48am
20 inches.  7lbz.

Happy Birthday, Gerry!

Gerry turns one today, and I can't believe it.  I mean, I can...but I can't.  This year has just flown by, so much faster than Bailey's first year did, and I honestly can't believe it's been this long already.  I vividly remember this night last year -- I was checking into the hospital for my induction, lugging around a ginormous, 9-days-past-my-due-date belly, and anxious to meet the little person who had spent the last few months kicking around my ribs and bladder.  He came into the world faster than any of us was expecting at 5:13am weighing a whopping 8lbs.11oz., and it was love at first sight.

Gerald Anthony

The first photo of mommy, daddy and baby.  Note how delirious Scott looks...labor and delivery must have been rough on him.  ;-)

And he hasn't stopped making me smile since.

He's brought more joy to these last 12 months than I ever thought possible, and I can't believe I was ever worried about how I'd love two kids.  He's just full of smiles and giggles, and I love watching him grow and learn new things.  His latest is Peek-a-Boo, although we're still working on actually covering his eyes and not just slapping his hands over his ears or any random part of his face...baby steps.  He's mastered climbing stairs and has gotten quite brave over the last few days, letting go of things and standing on his own for a second or two before dropping down.  He looks around with the goofiest little grin on his face, like he's making sure everyone in the room saw his cool trick.

He loves to eat and his favorite food is anything edible.  Seriously.  He never turns down food.  Ever.  Lately, his favorites are green beans and corn, french fries, and chicken.  He's not a fan of juice or water in a sippy cup, preferring his bottle over anything else.

Bailey is still his favorite person ever, and the two of them are hilarious to watch together.  Gerry is the only person who Bailey never gets angry with.  He's a beast these days, always climbing over top of her and trying to take her toys, and she just laughs like it's the funniest thing ever.  She calls him "Ger Bear" and has an abundance of patience when it comes to her little brother.  From the first moment they met these two had a special bond and watching them together is a heart-swelling kind of happiness.

Gerry is big on making noise these days.  Anything he can bang together, anything that makes music, anything that emits a sound...the louder the better.  He loves to clap and dance, and he's one tiny ball of noise and energy these days.  He is definitely keeping us on our toes!

A year ago, I couldn't imagine being able to love another child.  I couldn't imagine having another baby, another little person to love who depended on me.  I didn't know what to expect, and I couldn't imagine my life with a little boy in it.  Today, I can't imagine my life without him.  I adore this little boy, and I'm so thankful that he's mine.  This past year has been nothing short of wonderful and I can't wait to see what this next year has in store for him and for us.

Happy, Happy, Happy Birthday, Little Man!
 

Gerry: 11 Months Old

I can't believe that in one month...one month...Gerry is going to be a year old.  He's looking less and less like a baby and more and more like a little boy (to me, at least) and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

He's still the happiest little guy I know, and he just loves to get into mischief these days.  Now that he's able to crawl, cruise along furniture, and climb stairs (eek!) he is all over the place.  He's actually really good at getting up the stairs, and he can climb a full flight with no problem.  Coming back down, though, is another story.  He pretty much just sits down, which results in him tumbling backward literally ass-over-elbows every time.  But it never stops him from climbing back up again!

This is the face of a little boy who knows he's been busted

Bailey is still his very favorite person ever.  His face just lights up when he sees her, and she loves him just as much.  He's constantly crawling over to play with her when she's on the floor, laying his head on her shoulder, and grabbing her for his version of a kiss.  I say it all the time, but I adore how much they love each other.  Can't get enough of it.

Gerry is eating like a champ these days, and we've pretty much finished with purees.  Now he eats what we eat, just cut up into tiny pieces.  His favorites, like Bailey's, are veggies -- green beans, peas and carrots.  He doesn't turn anything down and eating is pretty much one of his favorite things ever.

As far as talking goes, he's still mostly babbling.  We get "Mama" and "Dada" and every once in awhile I swear he says "Hi."  Otherwise, it's just lots of noise and giggles.  Speaking of noise...he thinks it's the awesomest thing ever.  He gets the biggest kick out of shaking rattles, banging on pots, and knocking things together to make noise.  The louder the better!

He's become more affectionate the last few weeks and I can't get enough of it.  He's never been a snuggly baby, always preferring to move around and to watch the things going on around him.  He's still like that, but now he looks for me and reaches for me often.  When he gets hurt or sad or angry, he immediately starts crawling to me and wraps his arms around my neck when I pick him up.  On Thanksgiving, we were surrounded by A LOT of people.  Gerry got a little overwhelmed and started to cry and try to wriggle out of Scott's arms and into mine...I've got to say, it made me feel good! 

In another few weeks we'll be celebrating his first birthday.  Where did the time go?! 

My Favorite Little Lady

It occurred to me last night that I'm always writing monthly updates on Gerry, but I never do one for Bailey.  Now that she's 3 and not necessarily doing something "new" every month I don't always have new things to write about, but I wanted to take a minute and do a little Bailey update now.  Because she is, in a word, incredible.

She's 3 years and 5 months old now, and smarter than I ever could have imagined.  She loves to draw and, in the last few months, has really started drawing some great stuff.  Mostly people, but she's giving them faces and feet and you can actually tell that they're people and not just scribbles on a page.  I've never shown her how to draw a person, so I can't take credit for her newest artistic ability, but I'm pretty impressed with how well she's coming along.

Our family portrait

Her favorite foods right now are corn and broccoli.  I know...vegetables?  At 3, I think I was horrified at the prospect of having to look at a piece of broccoli let alone eat it, but she loves it and will happily subsist on nothing but veggies.  Don't get me wrong, she loves her sweets, too.  The girl can pound a bag of m&ms like nobody's business.  But when given the choice, she chooses corn and broccoli 9 times out of 10.  Just like me, though, she's not a fan of milk unless it's in cereal.  And don't even think about offering her a sandwich.  That's like a slap in the face to her taste buds and she will shoot you down every time.

I don't know how this happened, but Bailey is turning into a girly-girl.  Her favorite color is pink, she's obsessed with princesses, and she thinks a pair of "fancy shoes" and a tiara complete any outfit.  She's obsessed with lip gloss and LOVES to paint her nails and wear jewelry.  The other day she told me she wanted to go to a fancy dinner.  Then she looked me up and down and said, "But you have to fix your hair, mom.  And blow dry it.  Then we can go to a fancy dinner."

Her very first dance recital...just shy of 3 years old.

Tiara, pajamas, and high heels

She's got very strong opinions and knows exactly what she wants.  I admire that about her, even though it can drive me crazy sometimes.  If she wants to wear pajamas to the mall there's no changing her mind.  If she decides she wants to be a princess there's no convincing her otherwise.  If she feels she's been wronged she's not afraid to let you know it.

But she's also got this sweet, affectionate side to her that I absolutely adore.  Often, she'll stop what she's doing to come over and lay her head in my lap and say, "I love you, mama".  (When she's feeling super affectionate she calls me Mama.  When she's feeling sassy it's Mom)  She says please and thank you without needing prompting most of the time, and she always says things like, "You're the best mom ever!"  When we're apart (which isn't very often), even if it's only been for a half hour, she exclaims "Mommy!  I missed you!"  When Scott comes home from work at the end of the day, she's quick to give him a hug and yell, "Daddy!  My daddy's home!"  She calls Gerry "Handsome Man" and hugs him ALL THE TIME.

A few months ago, I had back surgery and was stuck in bed for a few days.  She climbed up in bed with me that first day and didn't leave my side except to go to the bathroom and to eat.  I was on painkillers and kind of fuzzy for awhile, but I distinctly remember rolling over to find her there with me many different times.  She was perfectly content just sitting there with me and watching tv.  

The other day, I was putting her to bed and I noticed that she had a picture of my grandfather (who is still living) propped up against the jewelry box on her nightstand.  I asked her if daddy had put it there and she said, "No, I did.  I just love Pop Pop and I miss him every day."  A week later, the picture is still there and she adjusts it every night before going to bed.

She has the most fantastic imagination, I swear.  Whether she's playing with her babies or her dollhouse, or building something with tools, she's always got some story about what she's doing and why.  This morning I found her banging on the pantry door with a toy hammer.  "I'm just hitting the door, Mom.  My baby needs a tunnel so I'm making one for her 'cause she's my sweetie."  Last night she was playing with her dollhouse dolls and had two of them engaged in some deep conversation about who was going to sleep in which bed and why.  Complete with tears and everything.

As grown up as she likes to think she is, though, she's still got some "baby" qualities when it comes to her speech.  For instance, she still calls bananas " 'nanas", the computer is her " 'pooter", and she sometimes still adds an extra "s" to plural words ("I'm going to read all these bookses!")  Most of the time she substitutes the y-sound for l-sounds at the beginning of words ("I yuv cookies!").  I don't often correct her because I know that she's going to grow out of it soon and will start saying words correctly.  And I'm so going to miss her "baby speech".  So much.  The day she stopped calling her blanket a "bubby" I was sad and refused to call it by it's proper name until I realized how ridiculous I was being.

My absolute favorite thing about Bailey right now is the way she interacts with her brother.  She is an amazing big sister and Gerry is so lucky to have her.  She's got a never-ending supply of patience, kindness and love when it comes to him and he is the ONLY person that she never gets angry or frustrated with.  She gets excited when he does something new, and her face just glows with pride for him.  Whenever we're out and someone says hello to them she'll tell them, "This is my brother.  He's a baby.  His name's Gerry".  She protects him and she plays with him and she loves him like I never could have imagined.  I don't know why I was so worried about how she'd take it having a sibling.  She's completely awesome.

That's not to say that she doesn't have her moments where she's in full-on tantrum mode and it takes everything in me not to throttle her.  Because it happens.  Not too often, but it happens.  But then she goes and does something so incredibly sweet that it just wipes the slate clean.

I'm lucky that she's my daughter and I love her to the moon and back.  She's sweet and feisty and hilarious and smart and adorable and mine.  I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I'm thankful every single day that she calls me mommy.  I'm proud of her, and I know that she is destined to do some big things when she grows up.  For now, though, I want to keep her "my little girl" for as long as I can.

Gerry: 10 Months Old

Gerry was 10 months old yesterday...and what a 10 months it's been!  He's still happy as ever, but his sleep is a bit off these days.  Scott and I are assuming it's teething, and hoping it doesn't last much longer.  He's been waking up once or twice each night and then pretty early in the morning (for the day).  Still better than Bailey was at this point, though, so who are we to complain?

His newest skill is being able to go from a lying down position to sitting up all by himself.  He's been doing it for a couple of weeks now, and I think he's enjoying the independence.  Still no crawling on all-fours yet, but he gets around just fine by "army crawling" wherever he wants to go.  So now he's pretty much into everything and all over the place.  And he's FAST! He's attempting to pull himself up, but kind of gives up once he gets to his knees.  And he can stand for long periods of time while holding onto the couch...but then he just kind of lets himself crumple in a heap off to the side rather than sitting down.

Gerry is still a great eater, although he's been turning away his bottle lately unless he's tired and ready to go to sleep.  Still not getting much action with a sippy cup, but he does enjoy throwing it on the floor...over and over again.  Which reminds me...his favorite thing to do these days is to make noise.  As much noise as he can possibly make, and however he can possibly make it.  He screams, he babbles, he bangs toys together...the noisier it is for him, the better.  Bailey is still one of his favorite people ever, and I love the giant smile he gets on his face when he sees her. 

Right now, he's doing his evil little giggle/laugh that he does and I'm DYING to get it on camera so I can share it with all of you.  But I'm always too busy laughing when he does it to film him!  One day, I'll get it.

He's got his moments, but G is still one of the happiest, smiliest, best babies I've ever come across.  And, yes, I know that I'm ridiculously biased.

Flame-Free Friday!

*sigh*  Yesterday was Halloween and I'm exhausted!  Bailey was so keyed up that she didn't get to bed until super late (what else is new?) and Gerry has been going through some sleep regression, so he was up about 3 times.  I need sleep!  So I'm just going to jump right into my "confessions"...after these pictures from last night's Halloween festivities.

Superman

Wonder Woman

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Okay.  Moving on.  I confess...

...that I exacted revenge on a child.  Last week we met friends for a play date at the mall's play place.  As is typical for a Friday night, the play place was crowded, and there were a couple of rowdy older kids playing roughly amid all the little ones.  The kids were about 8 or 9, bigger, louder, and rougher than the rest of the group, and their parents either weren't there or didn't care that their little hooligans were terrorizing a play area geared toward much younger kids.  Anyway, I was sitting on a bench chatting with a friend and watching Bailey and her buddy play out of the corner of my eye, and watched these big kids plow into her and knock her flat on her ass a good 4 or 5 times.  Each time, she just got right back up and kept on playing with her friend, fairly unbothered by it all, so I didn't draw any extra attention to it.  Instead, I kept on sipping my coffee and chatting with my friend's husband...and waiting.  I saw the big kid running over from my right, so --quickly and without breaking conversation-- I stuck my foot out and tripped the kid.  He went down hard, a few of the other kids laughed, and I pretended like I didn't even see it.  He ran out of the play place, and we didn't see him again the rest of the night.  I don't condone "violence" or embarrassing others, but I'd do it again if I had to.  I hate punk kids ruining the fun for everyone else.  

...that Gerry peed through his pajamas in the middle of the night last week, and I just threw a clean blanket over it and went back to sleep.  It was roughly 2:45am, I had been up an hour earlier with Bailey, and I just didn't feel like spending the extra 10 minutes changing the sheets in his crib.  So I changed him into clean jammies, threw a thick blanket over the wet sheets, and put him back to sleep.  (I did change and wash all the sheets the next day).

...that I told Bailey she could only eat one piece of her Halloween candy last night, then when she went to bed I ate 6 fun-size candy bars.  I guess I owe her some chocolate.

...that Gerry almost fell down a flight of stairs because I wasn't paying attention.  It's been awhile since I had to keep a close eye on Bailey and the stairs, and I just spaced.  The basement door was wide open and I just happened to catch a glimpse of Gerry, arms and torso hanging over the top step, out of the corner of my eye.  I dove and grabbed his foot just as he was about to go tumbling down, and he just giggled like it was the most fun he's had in all his life...like a possible broken neck was just a game.  I forgot how fast he can drag himself places these days.

...that I went to the store the other day for a few Halloween treats for the kids and ended up buying a book for myself.  We really didn't have the extra money for me to spend, and I have about 64,000 books on the Kindle...but I wanted that book and so I impulse-bought it before I could talk myself out of it.  Along with a new lipstick.  

...that we all went to a Halloween costume party last weekend and I agreed to dress up as Jenny Matrix from Commando (Scott went as Arnold) for the sole purpose that the costume required very little effort and was comfortable.  I didn't have to stress about looking fat in my costume (I wore overalls and goofy sneakers), I didn't have to wear special makeup, and I could just let my hair air-dry after a shower instead of spending time blow-drying and flat-ironing the hell out of it.  Best costume I've worn yet.