And then there were three

Guess who's back???? Though after reading Rick's sweet and funny posts, this might not be such a welcome return. Good to know there's someone around that can pick up the slack should I be indisposed.

So guess what? Newborns require a bit of oversight and time. Who knew? Hopefully the blog will not suffer. For the time being, you will have to forgive any and all typos or grammar mistakes because this chick can't seem to remember if it's AM or PM right now and I really want to document Annie's arrival before the memory goes the way of Annie's pink monkey PJs (had them in my hand last night, and are now nowhere to be found). I will try to be brief (but won't be successful) and not duplicate a lot of the stuff Rick already wrote about.

Of course we arrived at the hospital a little early on Sunday night and had to wait 15 minutes to be checked in to avoid being charged a full day by insurance. As we were waiting, a couple came in that was in labor. She was 30 weeks along and carrying twins. Yikes. We eventually got checked into our room and by 1:30 AM, the pitocin drip had been started. I was slightly miserable at this point because the IV had to be placed right on my wrist, which meant any time I moved my hand I could feel that needle moving around. Julie, our nurse, informed me this was the second worst spot for an IV. Very reassuring, that Julie. I assume the worst would be your eyelid.

I was trying to see how long I could go without pain meds. This was not some valiant effort to have a natural birth; I know I am too big of a wimp for that. Rather, I didn't want the epidural to slow things down. The plan was to up the dosage of pitocin ever 30 minutes, starting a 2 (unit of measure unknown). At 2:00 AM they upped me to 4 and then about 15 minutes later about 5 nurses rushed into the room and made me roll over to my side. There was an issue with Annie's/Super's heart rate dropping and the contractions were less frequent, so they dropped me back down to 2. There was also difficulty accessing my "out of range" cervix, so all of these things pointed to it being a long day.

By around 4:30 they started upping the dosage again because the heart rate had evened out. At some point they put in an internal monitor to gauge the intensity of the contractions, which was fun to watch. At the end of Julie's shift I was still at 2 cm. Now I had nurse Paula, who I thought was a little cold at first, but turned out to be amazing. This will be a common theme for my experience with the nurses at MoBap. Just when you are sad to see one go, the one that replaces her is even more caring and nurturing. Paula made sure I was comfortable, reassured me that I could get the epidural any time I wanted, and flipped my pillow to the cool side on the regular. Were it not for the crazy pain, I would have been in heaven. It was like having your mom for a delivery nurse.

At around 7:30 I had had enough pain and I decided to throw in the towel and call for the epidural. By around 8:00 (times are approximate as my notes end at this point; hard to operate an iPhone through the contractions) my water broke, which was a bizarre experience. Not as dramatic as you see on TV but still strange. At this point, things started to get a little more intense, but I was trying to tough it out as there ws the light of the epidural at the end of the tunnel. Sweet Paula then informed me that the anesthesiologist (who will be referred to as Billy from this point forward-names are not changed to protect the innocent) was working on someone else and that he'd be in shortly. Or an hour later. I guess they have two "Billys", but one was in a c-section and the other was working on someone else. The nerve. Eventually Billy came in and got me started. I was more than a little nervous about this part as it's a needle and my spine and all that nonsense, but Paula talked me through it and it was not bad at all. It all got better from there. At the check following administration of pitocin, I was 5 cm dilated.

I was feeling no pain by 9. Dr J came back in to check my monitors because the intensity of the contractions wasn't making sense (less intense, though they were upping pitocin). Turns out the monitor was having issues, and was replaced with one that showed that these things should be measuring on the richter scale. Vindication!

At 11 sweet Paula's shift ended and DeAnn came in. Imagine a younger Meredith Vieira. At this point, all families are represented and are in and out of the room in between their feedings. I had been blessed with a massive case of heart burn that made food the last thing on my mind. The heart rate continued to fluctuate and they flipped me from side to side to find a place where she would not have issues. They theorized that it was an issue with the cord being either too short or wrapped around her. I tried not to focus on either of these scenarios. I also tried not to focus on the weather situation brewing outside and the sound of frequent thunder and lightening. I knew it was serious when family members opted for cafeteria food rather than to brave the storm.

DeAnn decided it was time to get this party started so she came up with some new and humiliating positions for me to be in to try to make the baby more comfortable. As a result, most family members were required to leave the room at this point, lest they see something they can't ever un-see. These deliveries are dangerous times for everyone.

After being in what I will call "downward cow" for about an hour, I was checked at 12:00 and was at 8 cm!!! DeAnn placed me on my right side and at this point I made the decision to not move a muscle as Super was tolerating everything well. I was advised that if I started to feel pressure "down there" to let them know. This time is a bit hazy, but I know Rick was playing songs we picked out for Super/Annie, both sets of grandparents were there, Liza and Chaney took turns working on my pony tail, Dan visited on his lunch break, my Mom got details repeatedly from DeAnn, and my Dad held my hand. Oh, and the power went out. There were discussions of a "Code Gray", which would involve us having to move to the hallway. Cue the theme music from ER.

I did feel a bit of pressure, but it wasn't constant and I didn't want to be an alarmist. After being still for about an hour and a half, DeAnn checked me and I was fully dilated, fully effaced, and the baby was knocking at the door. She called for Dr J because it had progressed so quickly and advised that we could go straight to pushing. I panic a bit at this point because everything is getting really real, really quickly. I shed a few tears and manage to focus on the instructions on how to push a human out of my body. DeAnn states that this could go on for a while, so be prepared.

We had originally thought only my sister Chaney and Rick would be in the room, but as they were both being utilized to hold my knees, we asked my other sister, Liza, to be in the room to man the camera. Liza's known for being a little squeamish and not fond of emergency situations, so I wasn't sure if she was even going to want to be there. She rallied and manned the camera while I got set to push for the first time. God bless the person that invented the epidural, because I couldn't feel a thing. I also think the past 10 years of physical activity finally came in handy because after the first round of pushes/contraction, DeAnn again called for Dr. J and he arrived out of nowhere. Liza was looking a little green at this point and DeAnn became concerned that maybe she should be elsewhere, but Dr J took one look at her, proclaimed that her color was normal and that she was not going anywhere. He's the OB for all three of the Harkins gals, so he knows us a bit more intimately than most and we all found his bossing Liza around to be very funny.

After the next contraction he gave me a few more pointers on how to get this baby out. I utilized my new instructions and after the next round her head was out! Chaney was providing color commentary at this point and shouted that Super had my chin. For some reason, this made me laugh and I guess that pushed Super out a bit further. Dr J "helped" me out a bit downstairs and Chaney announced "She's sticking her tongue out!". This made me laugh again and just like that...Ann Emerson Erwin was born. It was 2:35 PM on May 23, 2011. She weighed 6 pounds 7 ounces and is 20 inches long. She's perfect.

Well, perfect except for her pooping right before she was born (meconium spotted in the fluid at the last minute). This, coupled with the fact that what was theorized to be a short cord was actually super-long and being worn as an accessory (slung over her shoulder and wrapped around her waist) and a fast trip through the birth canal, results in a trip to the NICU. I guess her breathing was labored as well, though they weren't sure what was causing that issue (one of the aforementioned issues or something else).

We held our baby for about a minute each and then she was gone to be checked out. I have never been so elated and terrified at the same time. I was ultimately moved to my recovery room where I would stay the next two days while Annie was tended to in the NICU. As they weren't sure what was wrong, no one could give me any answers as to how long she would be there. Original estimates were optimistic that it could be resolved quickly, however the story started to change after they continued to monitor her.

When Rick and I first visited Annie on Monday evening, she was hooked to a C-PAP machine, which is essentially a sleep apnea oxygen delivery device. It took up 75% of her face and was heart-breaking. There was also a tube running from her mouth to her stomach to relieve some of the pressure in her belly from the oxygen. I was told that if all went well during their evening rounds that I could probably hold her if I came back around 10:30. I couldn't think of one thing that would keep me from that. When I did finally get to hold her, I was a blubbering mess and had to have the nurses regularly delivering me tissues. It was not pretty. Because Rick had been up for around 48 hours and we didn't have the baby in our room, he went home to get a good night's sleep and bring back provisions for the next day.

Tuesday was a roller coaster. When we visited in the morning, the C-PAP had been replaced by high flow nasal cannula, which was encouraging. Annie had also ripped out the tube running to her stomach and they decided not to replace it, which was great. But, they were also concerned about infection, which would require antibiotics for a minimum of 48 hours (could be as long as 5 days). This, of course, meant that she would be staying past our discharge date, which was to be Wednesday. Not great newsAt around 11 I was allowed to try my first feeding, which was amazing. Not successful, but amazing. As the day progressed, they did remove the breathing cannula, which enabled us to get a good glimpse of our baby's face. Lots of ups and downs.

By Wednesday things were looking up, but we had to figure out how to handle us leaving and her staying. The nurses allowed us to stay in our room until around 6 that evening and then we packed our bags and went home. As my milk hadn't come in yet, we also had to make the decision to give her formula, which was difficult for me as I had read so much about the dangers of nipple confusion, how formula is evil, and so forth. However, when the lactation consultant advises you that it's for the best, I felt much better about it as she wasn't getting nutrients from anywhere else.

If your baby is in the NICU, they have to pass a 2 hour car seat tolerance test to make sure they don't have issues when placed in the car seat. This, as Rick previously mentioned, was completed in the closet of the NICU a we were under the ominous Code Gray. Annie apparently thrives in stressful conditions (she gets that from her father) because she slept through the whole thing. Meanwhile I was a nervous wreck thankful to the weather armageddon outside and the notion that if she failed this test, she would have to retest and possibly delay her discharge. At this point, we had been advised that she would be discharged on Thursday morning! Her IV had been removed and they were going to administer the last rounds of antibiotics via shots instead of putting it back in.

Annie, chillin' during the Code Gray closet car seat test.

We returned to the hospital that evening and continued to try to feed her but really no success so they continued with the formula feedings, which she seemed to tolerate well. Whatever gets the job done at this point. Rick and I came home that night knowing that this was our last time sleeping in the house without our child and I think I would have had troubles sleeping had I not been so emotionally exhausted.

We hopped out of bed and were at the hospital by 9:30 Thursday morning (had to wait until her hearing screening was complete) and got the whole discharge interview complete (I am sure there was important information delivered here, though I remember none of it; I was a bit distracted). Rick got Annie into her car seat and we were on our way!

Ready to go! And no, there's not another baby still left in that belly.

So after what seems like a VERY long journey, Annie is home and we are figuring this all out. It was a crazy few days but I would do it 100 times over for the end result. We finally have our baby.

All mothers and babies please move to the hallway...or closet.

As I type this Kaly and Annie are tucked away safely into a closet here at the hospital. Annie, wanting to be as efficient as Kaly and I when it comes to projects, continues her two hour car seat test while in there.

This latest round of storms to hit Missouri caused a "code gray" here and all mothers and babies were moved to the safe zones. I have been fortunate enough to find the one hallway on the third floor without anyone, so I can sit here and watch the Great Escape, which is what I had been planning for Annie if we weren't able to take her home tomorrow. But it looks like tunneling will not be necessary.

Annie was moved from a heated crib last night to the big girl baby crib. A little while ago they told us her test have come back clear and they have removed the iv. Her final round of antibiotics will be given in a shot around 8pm. Once we get a green light on the car seat test all we have to do is wait it out until tomorrow morning on Annie, but Kaly will be discharged tonight.

We cannot say enough about the wonderful staff here at Missouri Baptist. They have taken amazing care of us while here. So if you any of you are ever playing Kaly's favorite game blog roulette and see this post, Thank You!

So to ride out the storm and what should be my last post, here are some photos.



GB with Annie.




Kaly and Annie

The First Family Photo and Update

Annie, I'm fighting to not call her Super, got off the oxygen this afternoon and Kaly has been feeding her. She is still being treated with antibiotics to fight off possible infection, but she's doing so much better. She will stay in the NICU until Thursday and Kaly will be discharged Wednesday.

My apologizes to those of you on the mailing list for yesterday's messed up subject line. I'm not sure what was up with that, but that is also why Kaly normally does this. Hopefully she will be up to taking this thing back over soon. REIII

She's here!!!

Kaly and I are happy to announce the arrival of our daughter, Ann Emerson Erwin. She was born at 2:35pm. She weighs 6.5 lbs and measures 20 inches.

Both mom and baby are doing great.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Letter to Super

Dear Super,
First off, I would like to apologize in advance if the name “Super” sticks past your birth. It was really just intended as a way to reference you that seemed to take on a life of its own. Since we all really do feel you are Super, I hope it doesn’t bother you too much.

I wanted to write this letter to let you know what I am thinking/feeling as I am moving through the last few weeks of my pregnancy. I will say that you have been a pretty easy baby so far. I didn’t get any morning sickness (other than one time, the day before I found out that you were on the way) and I haven’t been overly tired. I think I have been a bit mean to your sweet father, particularly in the first few months, but he’s handled it very well. You have taken to some pretty ferocious jabs lately, but I just like to think that means you are feisty and ready to come out and meet everyone. It has to be getting cramped in there. So far I know you love oranges and apple juice. If I haven’t felt you move in a while, I can always count on these things to get you jumping.

I spend a lot of time thinking about what you will be like. In my mind, you will look a lot like me (I am guessing I feel this way because you are a girl). I imagine you being funny, smart, sensitive, and creative, which are more traits of your father. It would not be honest if I said I don’t worry about your health and that everything goes well during your delivery. I guess it’s the not knowing how things will go that bothers me the most. I try not to get too scared about the whole process and focus on how thrilled we will be when you get here. Luckily your Dad is around to calm me and reassure me that everything will be fine.

Which brings me to the topic of your father... I was never 100% sure I would have children until I met him. I have never seen someone that has such a way with infants, babies, toddlers, and can be pretty charming with adults. The more I got to know him, the more I loved him (which all happened pretty quickly, I should add) and I became aware that he was put on this earth to be a Dad. And then I quickly realized that I wanted to be a part of whatever family had a Dad like that. I think you and I are both really lucky to have him in our lives.

While I am ready for you to get here, I am going to miss having you with me at all times. I like to think that you and I are a package deal right now, and I like knowing you are with me and safe. You seem to have perfect timing and just when I am getting frustrated or anxious about work or the house, you give me a little nudge, which quickly hits the reset button and reminds me that in the grand scheme of things, all of this stuff is inconsequential and there is a bigger task at hand. I already am not looking forward to going back to my boring old body that doesn’t have a Super Baby bouncing around inside of it. I feel like you already have so much personality and I can’t wait to put a face to the baby I feel I already know (and the feet that so lovingly kick my ribs). I can’t express how miraculous it is to imagine that there will be a person in the world that was made from me and your Dad. And I can’t imagine I could love you any more than I do already, but I know that’s about to change as well.

We are officially at the end of the road here. It's two hours before we head to the hospital to get induced. Today has been a brutal waiting game and both your Dad and I are very impatient and ready for you to get here. We've been on the threshold of all this activity for so long and are ready to get things started! We know we are in for a lot of changes, but we knew that was what we were getting into. I have loved my life with your father for the past 7+ years, so thinking of a completely different life does make me a little nervous, but we both know that nothing great ever came from staying the same. We are also very aware of how blessed we are to be able to have a child and to experience this entire process. You are an amazing gift.

I can’t seem to find a way to appropriately convey how special the past 9 months have been. I have loved every second of the pregnancy and feeling you grow. I have not been crazy about the maternity clothes and look forward to both of us trying out our new wardrobes (well, yours is new, mine is just unused for 10 months). I can’t wait to spend my days getting to know you and have you become part of our lives. You are already the center of attention and you are not even here yet!

Try to be patient with us as we learn about how to care for you and what you need. We are new at this, and promise we will spend the rest of our lives trying to make you as happy as we possibly can.

Love you,
Mom

Rapture Ramblings

Since my mother assures me that no one will know about the actual rapture beforehand, I feel it is safe to make light of the current discussions regarding the predicted "End of Days" that is supposed to be happening today. Of course, God, if you happened to schedule the legit End of Days today, I suggest you reschedule to really catch people off guard AND disregard any of the comments made in this post. If you do decide to read on, hopefully I will have given you some things to ponder about how this will all go down.

Rapture thoughts/questions/observations:

I love the thought of the world ending before Oprah gets to air her final episode.

Rick is holding off on mowing the lawn, just in case it does happen. I can rest assured that our unattended house will go un-looted in the event of a rapture, because it will appear that crazy people lived there or it was uninhabited for years, pre-rapture. We Erwins plan ahead.

What's the food situation in heaven? Because I would like to place a few orders for a repeat performance of this little number Rick put together this morning. For some reason, I imagine you don't get meat in heaven. Probably for the best.

While our pregnancy timing was seemingly perfect with regard to the seasons, it is not perfect when it comes to the rapture. If it happens today, do I go up in my current state (I hate to assume anything about my rapture status, but I like to think I am good with the man upstairs and choosing to be positive here)? Don't get me wrong, I would be thrilled to have made the cut, but being 40+ weeks pregnant for eternity isn't exactly my vision of heaven.

Which brings me to my next question...What about Super? She's never screwed up so clearly she's in. Does she get to grow up? The thought of having a newborn for eternity....well, see the above statement. Though I am sure newborns in heaven are a much more well behaved bunch.

Delivering this baby in heaven might be the only way I could pull off a drug-free, natural birth. Of course, there will be those women up there that steal my thunder and brag about how they gave birth naturally on earth, and how much worse it was, and how I will never know pain like the pain they felt....

Certainly there's no Mommy Competition (mompetition, thanks Debbie!) in heaven, right?

I am clearly falling too far down this rabbit hole, so I will stop here. We are currently 36 hours away from when we depart for the hospital to be induced. In case you can't tell, there's a lot more mental activity than physical going on over here. I am glad we decided to induce when we did, because I would likely be typing up some manifesto by Wednesday of next week if we waited any longer.

The end is near, indeed!

So....

What's going on with you guys? Not a lot happening over here. It's just my due date and all, but somehow I am sitting here at work trying to wrap up nonsense. My people (I refuse to call them my "team") ignored the warnings I have been sending out over the last three months regarding my looming absence and decided to get all their stuff to me for review in the last two days. Lovely. What they also don't realize is that I have been completing their annual review surveys this week as well. "Completes tasks in a timely manner?".....not so much.

40 weeks.

So despite the fact I have a pumpkin-sized jumping bean in my stomach that seems to be all razor-sharp elbows and knees, all is well here. I am more emotionally unsteady than physically uncomfortable, and I can't figure out which is worse. I bet Rick has an opinion on that one. The phone tells me nothing this week other than that the baby is ready. They also have helpful tips for deadbeat parents-to-be on things like "preparing for baby" and finding a hospital. It's small things like this that make me feel slightly prepared for what we are about to experience.

I have heard rumors of people having severe depression at the mere notion that Super Thursdays will be no more after the baby gets here. In an effort to keep everyone off the edge of the cliff (we're a dramatic bunch), I will let you know that I do plan on continuing to update you all on the status of Super post-birth. Probably more than you will ever care to know and you will go find some silly cooking or shabby chic furniture blog to read. Fine. We didn't need your kind around here anyway.

It seems we have reached the end of the road....only to find a bit more road. We will continue to keep you all posted. Keep me, Super, Rick, and my lady parts in your prayers as we progress through these next few days!

Slow and Steady

I don't know why I thought my pregnancy would be anything other than a slow progression. I am not necessarily a "get up and go" kind of a person. I am pretty sure no one has ever described me as being intense. When it comes to getting things done, they get done on time, usually not before or after. I am a 10 minute mile kinda gal. No records being broken here. and I am COMPLETELY fine with that.

This entire pregnancy has been blessedly average from the baby's size to my personal weight gain. And I have never been so thankful to be average.

39.5 weeks.

So it was no huge shock when Dr. J informed me yesterday that I am a little over 2 cm dilated, which is not a huge leap from last week's 1.5 cm. He said that things are moving into place. I won't go into details regarding what's moving where to protect the fragile males that read this blog, but things are on the move. He did say that if he was a betting man that he would guess the baby is going to be in the 7 pound range. Again, YAY for average!!!

I imagine Super is in there saying "What's the big rush, people? Don't I have until the 19th? No one told me the deadline had been moved up! I still have plenty of time. Calm down. It'll get done." That's my girl.

Waiting game

In anticipation of the arrival of a certain little someone, we have kept our calendar pretty open. As a result, we have lots of time to do nothing...or do everything, depending on my level of energy. We spent Saturday in overdrive nesting mode and putting the final touches on the nursery, cleaning the house, and rewashing clothes and sheets. Apparently the nesting instinct is a bit contagious, because GB has also been in full swing lately and has been on the food-prep side of things (which, other than one bout with making homemade strawberry shortcake, has not happened with me). She shifted into overdrive on Saturday, and after listing my top 5 favorite GB foodstuffs, I supervised the fixins.

She had no fewer than three things cooking at once. Here she has some chicken dish in the crock pot, curried beef almondine in the skillet, and king ranch chicken in the oven. It was VERY impressive.

Today we went on a walk, then on a camera search. Yes, family, another camera-don't judge. This one also shoots HD video, which I am sure I will instantly regret when it comes to labor footage. Of course, I will blame the HD for why I look like a nightmare. Oh well.

Then the rest of the day has been spent soaking in this rainy, lazy Sunday. I have spent the last week or so in a strange mix of worlds of hyper activity and slow motion. At work, I am essentially prepping for getting wiped off the face of the earth for eight weeks, which has been no small task. Then things slam into low gear at home...until we think of something else we need and rush around picking that stuff up. Then waiting.....

I also find myself thinking things along the lines of "if I go into long labor after this meal, is this going to potentially hold me over for 24 hours?", which is a sure-fire way to gain 20 pounds in your last week of pregnancy. More poignant thoughts also work their way in and I find myself thinking that this may be the last Sunday I am not a Mom, or every night I go to bed and wonder if this is the last night I will go to bed without saying goodnight to my child. Needless to say, it is a whirlwind of emotions over here and we are excited, emotional, anxious, and, in general, ready. We want our baby.

On Squirrels and Homeless People

Squirrels are the crazy homeless people of the animal kingdom. I would like to add that I have nothing against homeless people. I am sympathetic to their plight and it is terrifying that because of some twist in your life, that you could lose everything. Some of them are perfectly delightful. We had a homeless person that was living below our townhouse in Charleston. We wouldn't have ever even suspected they were there, had we not stumbled across some rolled up newspapers, clothes, and empty bottles of Mad Dog. They were very quiet and kept reasonable hours. Truth be told, were it not for the lack of permission, failure to chip in towards rent, and unwillingness to share their booze, they were the perfect 5th roommate.

But then there are the crazy/aggressive homeless people. The ones that live outside Dunkin Donuts in Chicago and yell at you and demand you give them your change or buy them a bagel. Nothing will stop them from their squatting in that location, no matter how much you wave them away, ignore them, or discourage them from setting up shop, they will come back, because they know a good thing when they see it. You are on their streets. They are entitled. Our squirrels are those homeless people.

This is MY house, fat lady. Noticed you packed on a few lately. How 'bout taking a walk around the block and bringing me back a zagnut?

They are in a beautiful setting, found a house with some sagging siding where they can wriggle their way in and munch on the walls at 4:30 in the morning. I guess I cannot say I blame them for setting up shop and not wanting to leave. And much like the issue of homelessness, I can't find anyone with a viable solution to the squirrel problem. Perhaps I will hire a crazy homeless person to fight my squirrels. That would be an epic battle for sure, like Alien vs. Predator.

These are the ramblings of a woman that is currently restless and 5 days away from her due date. I am hungry and sleep deprived (though not for any of the reasons pregnant people are sleep deprived). Thankfully Dunkin Donuts is open.

When they say "mini watermelon"....

...I think they mean "full size watermelon that you bring to a picnic that feeds a family of 10".

I think that's a frisbee they are using there for scale.

Because there is nothing "mini" about this here watermelon. But if you do compare to this pic, you can see the difference in how she's hangin'.

So basically we are done here with the updates on Super's progress. Super is officially a legit baby, albeit a baby that is currently residing inside another human. I am assuming you all know what a real baby looks like, so no need to discuss that she now has baby fat and fingernails and fine baby hair and all that wonderful goodness. The phone tells me that she is now around the 7.25 pound range, and let's all just take a moment to pray that number is accurate. It also says that she is around 20 inches, though I tend to disagree with this dimension. From what I feel, this baby is all arms and legs, that happens to get hiccups about 5 times a day.

Dr. J estimates she could be anywhere from 6 to 9 pounds. Way to really dial that one in for me. I resisted the urge to use the ol' "gun to your head, how much would you say this baby weighs?" line on him during the last check-up. While Rick always seems to come up with answers for me when I use this particular question phrasing, I think I should probably take it easy on the man that will be bringing our child into this world and stay away from lines that could potentially be interpreted as threats. I'll save those for the delivery room.

Success!

Mom and Rick had both been telling me, but I refused to get my hopes up that it was true. Super has officially dropped (a bit, nothing crazy) and I am 1.5 cm dilated! I had noticed that I had felt less pain from my bra digging into my ribcage while being crushed between my super-high belly and my massive loaners, but again, I didn't want to get ahead of myself.

So in the ever changing world of delivery discussions with Dr. J, we went from induction talk last week, back to contraction talk this week. If nothing happens before 5/19, we will go in for our induction on 5/23. But now there's a possibility that she could come at any time! I still haven't really felt a contraction, which I like to think is because I am the Chuck Norris of pregnancy (Rick's going to need a samurai sword to cut the umbilical cord....too much?). In reality, I will probably beg Rick for a shot of tequila, dial 911, and collapse in a heap the first time I actually feel something, but until then....

Rick's fatherly spidey sense must be acting up because he got to the hospital early yesterday to map out his walking route to the labor and delivery floor...

This way to birth your babies!

Reception (though I have already pre-registered)

And the place all my family members will choose to ignore my entire stay in the hospital.

Rick also found the cafeteria and some shortcut route from one area of the hospital to another. I am choosing not to focus on any concerns I might have about the security of a hospital that allowed a swarthy young man with no pregnant woman with him to roam about the delivery floor taking pictures. Instead, I will focus on the fact that we have 8 more days until Super is scheduled to get here. To quote Rick's most often repeated phrase of late, "I want my baby."

Celebrate Diversity

We are neck deep in fun spring changes here at Casa de Erwin. After a few hard freezes and late snowfalls, I again thought Steven the Frog was a goner, but alas he was spotted thriving a few days ago:

He's even spruced up his pad with some azalea flowers that fell through the grate. It really adds a nice touch. GB would approve.

And not to be denied their fair share of attention, the mf-ing squirrels are out in FULL force this year. I will take this time to remind you that it's really hard to "un-see" something. And watching these two race around in what I imagine to be a squirrel mating ritual RIGHT ON OUR WINDOW SCREEN is something that will terrify me for a long time. I look forward to the babies they will undoubtedly birth in our walls...

....that will then be killed by this man. It's a regular circle of life lesson over here. Someone call Disney (and no one call the City of Webster Groves to complain about this semi-automatic pellet gun-we're pretty sure it's harmless).

Rick's not just handy in the ways of the gun, he's also handy with any and all electronics and spent lunch on Sunday teaching our niece Chase all about the iPhone. She's got seven teeth now!

We spent Mother's day lunching with the Erwin family and then dining with the Loyd/Harkins/Hagemann clan that evening. I celebrated "Other's Day" since I don't fully meet the criteria for motherhood according to some (though I believe Super would disagree, and I feel pretty solidly in the "motherly way" these days). Rick and Super got me a very sweet card that made me cry. Of course, everything makes me cry.

The afternoon was spent by the pool playing with a nail polish kit that supposed to be for GB, Parker and Chloe, but Shisha, David and I hogged them for most of the afternoon.

David, further proving his diversity by spending every bit of two hours painting Shisha's fingernails with ornate detail. He would take brief breaks to refuel on the homemade chocolate bread he brought over. He's very secure in his manhood. We're trying our best to break him of this security. Stay strong, brother.

To further demonstrate the diversity of our family, you will notice that both Stella Artois and King Cobra are being consumed in this photo. Just out of the shot was the bottle of Absinthe. Possible legal ramifications prevent me from confirming if that is or is not a true statement.

Lucky Girl

I keep getting reminded how lucky I am these days. I am blessed with a perfectly average pregnancy, I am at 38 weeks and have no trouble sleeping, I have a husband that takes excellent care of me and makes me belly laugh multiple times daily, and a family that I wouldn't trade for all the gold in China (as a certain someone in said family would say). I was also lucky to spend my 35th birthday with some of my most favorite people....

Parker even let Rick take this picture on my special day. As if this was not enough, she even made me a book/card which had multiple poems, pages, and drawings...

Look who, at the ripe age of 9, has a firm grasp on the "you're" issue.

And as if the card book was not enough, I also received this gift from Parker, which made my heart hurt. I am secure in the knowledge that for the rest of my life, I will have at least $5, because I am never, ever, spending this. It's brilliant financial planning.

This card is from Chloe. Thanks to her amazing attention to detail, the card was equipped with hidden pockets with secret messages and pop-up babies. Again, with the heart hurting and sweet notes from my beautiful nieces....

And just when I started to feel like I was uncomfortable and ready for this baby to come out, I get this (also from Chloe):

So, so lucky.

Non-birth day

Happy birthday to my sweet momski, GB. I hope you have a wonderful day! Happy birthday to my Aunt Kate as well, since it's her birthday too. That's how twins work. Now you know.

In honor of your birthday, Super has decided to not be born today. It's enough that you have to share your birthday with so many people already. In fact, based on the discomfort I experienced today during my exam, I think she is directionally challenged and is retreating up into my neck. Because she was playing "hard to reach", we did get to have another ultrasound, which gave us a clear view of the back of her head. Based on what we saw, I don't think we are going to have to spend a lot of money on shampoo and hot oil treatments for a while.

Pre-Birthday Bash

As most of you know, May is a very popular month for birthdays in our family. My mom and her twin sister celebrate on the 3rd, my birthday is the 4th, cousin David is the 8th, and Super will (barring some sort of bizarre delay, which will NOT make me happy) be born in May as well. This year marks my Mom's 65th birthday and my 35th birthday, which were apparently deemed worthy of EXTRA celebration. Plus, thanks to the looming addition, this is the first time in about 5 years that Mom and I have been in the same town, so they figured we best do it up right.

To make sure no one missed out on the festivities, brother Patrick/Uncle Happy flew in to surprise me. I was thrilled to get to see him at the end of my pregnancy. Far be it from me to deny him the ammo for future ridicule regarding my current size. He was merciful now, though I am not so naive to think that he doesn't have an arsenal prepared for future use. There was also a small family pool celebration on Saturday followed by dinner at Ruth's Chris, which was delicious and a HUGE treat. Parker and Chloe even got to come!

This is Parker's slick new 'do.

The girls, Uncle Happy, and Dan, all enjoying their special cocktails...

Because this baby is like having my stomach stapled, I had plenty of steak left over....

....with a little room left for CAKE! This was a turtle ice cream cake, which was phenomenal.

The girls got in lots of time harassing Uncle Happy, which is always amusing to watch. He's such a skilled tormenter that he can take on both of them one handed and keep his drink in the other.

It was a great celebration and it's not even our birthdays yet! Thank you, GB and Bigs, for a wonderfully special weekend. I loved every second of it and it meant the world to me to have us all together. I am also content with Patrick's visit being the only surprise I experience in the month of May...