Happy Thoughts

Oh Sadie. Where to begin.
I love you. How about I start there.
It's been non-stop Mommy-Sadie time, but I STILL feel I can't get enough of you.
I love how you stand up against my legs anytime, all the time.
I love how you play with my hair whenever we read, or sing, or snuggle.
I love the mornings with you. OH the mornings. You are so sweet and cozy in that morning light. We have a routine, you know. You wake us up with your sweet little voice talking all about who knows what. You raise your little arms as I take you out of your crib. I change your diaper, and bring you into bed with me (and Daddy, normally). Then we talk and snuggle while you crawl on my face. You eat a little, then snuggle. Then crawl, then eat. Then stare at me with your enormous blue eyes while I tell you how much we missed you during the night. If I had it my way, we'd stay there til sundown. But, eventually, you try to leap off the bed to enjoy your own little adventures.
I love your bright smile. I swear it gives off vitamin d to those that see it. No matter how stressed or frustrated I am, when you look up at me with that big goofy grin, all negativity melts away.
I love how wild you already are. Pretty sure you get that from Daddy.
I love how easily you laugh. I often feel inadequate as a mother, but as I hear you giggle all day long, it assures me that if all else fails with parenting, at least you're happy.
I LOVE how you love your Daddy. I'm almost positive he's your favorite, and that's fine with me. When he comes home from work, you go absolutely crazy in the best way. You laugh your hardest with him, my dear. I hope you always remember that.
I love the back of your neck. I tickle you lightly there, and you giggle as you get the shivers.
I love playing chase with you. You freak out and SCREAM with laughter whenever I say "IIII'm gonna get ya..!" Then you crawl your lil heart out, always looking back to make sure I haven't stopped playing.
I love watching you sleep. Right now you're upstairs snoozing on your belly with your lil bum in the air. It kills me how cute you are.
Sadie girl, I love loving you. I know that sounds silly, but I mean it. The purpose of my life is to love you, and you make it so easy, and so fulfilling.
You're a tiny little 9 month old, and you have the power to change hearts. To change lives.
Keep that in mind as you read this as a (?) year old. What all are you capable of now? Probably more than you know.

xo//xo
mommy

Your Arrival

Hey you.

This morning you threw up in a niiiiice looong line right on Daddy's side of the bed. Lucky for him, he's in Virginia right now on a business trip.

So. Do you wanna know your birth story? I haven't recorded it yet, so hopefully my memory isn't too fuzzy by now.

Daddy and I got married October 18th, 2013, and we both wanted to start having kids almost right away. Luckily, I got pregnant in February after only a couple weeks of trying. Your due date was November 25th, just a day after Dad's birthday. 

Now, as much as I love you, being pregnant was THE WORST. I was on two different medications because I couldn't stop throwing up. I'd just crawl back and forth from the bathroom to the bed. Luckily, Daddy took such good care of me. 

When you started kicking, everything changed. Yes I was still sick, and my back killed, but feeling you live and learn in my belly was the most beautiful motivation. 

Hiccups were the norm for you, along with back arches, and STRONG kicks and punches into my ribs. We'll just say you were trying to hug me, right? 

Chewing ice was the norm for me. That was the only craving I had really, but BOY I HAD TO HAVE THAT ICE. 

Fast forward to November 25th. 

I had an appointment that morning to see if I was at all dilated. Dad came with in between class and baseball practice. We were so eager to meet you, sweetheart, that when we learned that I was only at a 1, I wanted to scream. (When you have your first child, and you're 40 weeks pregnant, you'll understand). The plan was to wait until I went into labor myself, and if I didn't they'd induce me a week later. 

November 26th, 4:00 am.

I was up most of the night feeling so sick and uncomfortable. I was having some minor contractions, but nothing that seemed pre-labor. 

All of a sudden I sprint to the bathroom and throw up. And throw up. And throw up. And throw up. And have diarrhea. Over and over again. This lasted, non- stop, for 12 hours. 

Dad was getting super worried. He went out and got me Gatorade, and kept calling the nurse to see what we should do. I wasn't really having contractions, so going to the hospital wouldn't do much. 

4:00pm.

Contractions begin. I was so weak at this point, I could hardly move to brace myself from the pain. They were instantly close together, so Dad said "NOPE. THAT'S IT. WE'RE GOING." I started nervously laughing. I'm a procrastinator, and hadn't packed a hospital bag yet, so Dad threw some stuff in a bag, and I hobbled my way into the car. 

We lived about 4 minutes away from the hospital. I remember that drive was so surreal. Dad and I kept looking at each other like "WAIT. This is actually happening...Oh my gosh. We're going to meet her...WHAT IS HAPPENING!??" I remember laughing a lot during that time. Your father is the best husband, because he can make the scariest, craziest, worst experiences the absolute best. He calmed my nerves by making me laugh so hard. I hope your future husband does just the same. 

We walked in and they led us to our room. After a few tests, we learned that I still wasn't far along. I was at a 2, if I remember correctly. However, the contractions just kept on coming. I remember Grandma had told me that when she had us, (Aunt Sydney, Uncle Calvin, and me) that she had tons of contractions, but they didn't cause dilation. 

It was miserable. 

Luckily, they said we could stay. 

Contractions. Again and again. I was so weak and exhausted, the thought of trying to push a baby out of me seemed impossible. 

Dad was so sweet. He'd watch the monitor and warn me when the contraction was coming. At this point I was crying and shaking from the pain. And then, an angel walked in the room.

The anesthesiologist.

After the epidural went in, I remember almost passing out. I was shaking violently, and threw up, and then something happened to your heartbeat, so they put an oxygen mask on me, and did something else, I can't remember. It all happened so fast, I remember crying because it scared me. 

After everything calmed down, it was just a waiting game.
Eventually, our awesome nurse informed us that it was time to push. I suddenly felt very nervous. I hadn't read any birthing books, or gone to any classes. Honestly though, I'm glad I didn't. I think my ignorance allowed me to fully trust and rely on my nurse, my doctor, and my instincts.
The pushing time flew by. It only took thirty minutes, and you were here.
Thanksgiving morning. 5:06am. 7lbs 10oz. 19.5in.
I remember Daddy saying " Oh my gosh, I see her head, I see her head!"
And then I got to see you.
This perfect tiny little girl.
Dad and I both started sobbing. It was hands-down the most spiritual moment either of us had experienced. We were instantly so in love with our little Sadie Jane.
Later that day, Dad started throwing up and had diarrhea too, sooo turns out that's not how I go into labor, we simply got the flu in a really bad way. Impeccable timing.

So there you have it, little one. One of the best days of our lives.
Also, while I wrote this out, you were crawling all over me, pulling my pants down, and pressing all of the computer keys. Excellent participation.

Now you're sleeping. I want to wake you up, but I won't. Promise.

xo//xo
mommy

"remember when.."

Hey tiny.
Confession. I'm a terrible journal writer.
I've purchased dozens of journals over the last 25 years, filled a couple pages, and forgotten about them like I will soon forget certain memories.
Yesterday in church, we learned about the importance of preserving the memories of our elderly. Their existence fades quickly in our minds when we don't have photos and stories to grasp on to.
It struck me how lazy I've been throughout my life. I've learned so many valuable lessons, and experienced some hilarious things that I so desperately want you to learn about when you're older, but I haven't taken 10 minutes each day to record said moments.
It fills me with regret, and I refuse to make the same mistake again.

Now, I'm not about to go back and write my personal history, but I can certainly start yours.
Daddy and I have had the time of our lives with you the last 8 months, and I want you to read all about it one day.
No, it won't give you bragging rights over your siblings. When they come along, this will be for them too.
But for now, Sadie Jane, I write to you.

xo//xo
mommy