A Study in Contrast

My life has lately become a study in contrasts. Sleep vs. none. Tears vs. laughter. Pain vs. narcotics. Love vs. whatever my life knew before April 13.

These contrasts are so stark, that I never get to live the DBT ideal of shades of gray anymore - everything is a polarizing event. I have to do more than hope this trend will even out. I'm going to make a concerted effort to organize my life and coping skills in such a way that life does resume a sort of sustainable homeostasis. However, my life has never been so stark, so powerful, so vulnerable, or so worthwhile. I feel like I have been truly tested and, despite some significant areas I will continue to improve, I am not too terribly disappointed with what I've seen - from myself, my phenomenal husband, my long suffering parents, and the newest Eschler addition.

I am so happy to finally update this blog with the news that Baby Boy Eschler is here. Augustus "Auggi" Wayne Eschler was born April 13, 2011 at 11:50 am via C-Section. He weighed 8 pounds, 7 ounces and was 19.25" long. His APGAR was 9 - 9 (close to perfection!).
The day of his birth is a day I will never forget, for better or for worse. Since I've checked out for a week, I'm going to attempt a timeline for how "it all went down." I understand many people will not find this sort of information appealing or necessary, but I think it's important for me to remember while it's fresh enough to be recorded. I am so conflicted inside about how the birth experience panned out, I want to do everything I can to bring it to a place of "rightness" as much as possible and normalize what happened.

Ultimately, the above picture is the outcome. I would have cut my body into four parts if that was required to make sure he got here safely. I'm working on making peace with the whole process, though, and truly defining what was "required" in my scenario.

Monday, April 11, 2011:
3:00 am - I have intense cramping and pain. Suspect labor. Just castor oil I took on the advice of old wives tales passing.
8:00 am - I wake up uneasy, contact my doctor's office, and ask for an appointment. I want to know if I've at least dilated - I do NOT feel confident about this induction.
10:15 am - I see the doctor at my office. No movement of any sort down below. I have instructions to go home, bathe, sleep, and relax before reporting to the hospital for induction that night.
12:00 pm - I arrange for our friend to pick up Hector and love him while we're gone.
5:00 pm - My parents arrive with dinner for us all after a day of soaking and resting. I am increasingly saddened by the resignation that I am not going to be able to go into labor naturally.
7:30 pm - We call WakeMed. My bed is ready. I can report as soon as we're all done watching the new episode of "House." Callie comes for Hector. I am sad to see him go.
9:30 pm - Arrive at hospital.
10:00 pm - My insurance information and undergarments have already been surrendered. An IV port is placed, despite the fact that I won't need any IV procedures until the next day. The IV placement is one of the most uncomfortable experiences, especially since the nurse keeps trying to put it in my hand, where I canNOT tolerate it being for the duration of this process!
10:30 pm - Dr. Bass enters, explains the Foley Bulb process and offers me Ambien to sleep. After explaining to him that I would not be taking psychotropic drugs at the final mile since I've avoided too much Espresso during this pregnancy to protect this baby, I am met with my first professional doctor resistance and told I need to sleep and won't due to the bulb without medical assistance. I resist and sleep well, despite the pain and cramping which are undeniable.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011 - Baby Boy's Due Date
6:00 am - the nurse wakes me and allows me to shower and get ready for my day.
7:00 am - I meet Suzi, the angelic nurse who reads my birthing plan, embraces it as her own, and protects me for the duration of her 12 hour shift. Test the Foley Bulb - GOOD NEWS! I'm 3 cm dilated! Start Pitocin. Mom and Dad arrive.
9:00 am - Still 3 cm. New Position.
12:00 pm - Still 3 cm. New Position. Starting to feel a bit of pressure, though.
2:00 pm - Still 3 cm. Break water. There's the pressure! Heather arrives.
5:00 pm - 4 cm!!! Suzi is not going to see this baby delivered, sadly. Heather helps me rock and move. Nathaniel rubs my back. Mom and Dad are eager for a new grandbaby.
7:00 pm - Still 4 cm. Lots of pressure now, but still having a hard time calling it pain. Say "goodbye" to Suzi. Say "Hello" to Kelly, next nursing angel. Bobby and Katie are hanging around. I'm not sure about the times. The pressure is building and I am moving a lot.
9:00 pm - Still 4 cm. Kelly gets aggressive with that Pitocin.
11:00 pm - OH... that's pain. 5 cm!!! I get it now. Still handling it. Would LOVE to get in the hot shower, but would die from electrocution as am hooked up to MANY machines.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011
12:00 am - PAIN... breathing/visualizing/moving/changing positions. Surely the end is at hand... right? Heather goes home. Bobby and Katie have gone home. Mom, Dad, Nathaniel and I continue on.
1:00 am - Still 5 cm... STILL???
2:00 am - Kelly lets me get in the shower by unhooking a few things. Sweet relief! I could labor there all day!
3:00 am - Still 5 cm. Kelly gets more aggressive with that damn demon drug! She also sneaks me into the garden of Eden (aka the shower) once more. God bless Nathaniel.
5:00 am - 5 cm... the doctor says she could "give me" 6 cm. Don't do me any favors. Recommends epidural. Nathaniel and I cry and argue and sympathize and push and concede and ultimately decide that an epidural may help, since I am clearly not able to "release" my body the way I need to. We'll have the epidural shortly along with an IUPC - a catheter that gets inserted into my uterus to measure how strong the contractions are and if they should be effective in getting baby here.
6:00 am - an attractive doctor comes in to do my epidural. The epidural never takes hold. I feel every contraction, every movement. Now, I have a needle in my back that adds to my discomfort, but I'm not allowed to get up and move, since the epidural makes me a "fall risk." I hate life. Mom and dad go home for a brief nap - very brief.
7:00 am - new doctor on duty. He comes in and checks. He says I'm 4 cm. How is it possible to dilate backwards? He says that since the baby's heartbeat hasn't, for a moment, wavered and I'm still healthy, we can labor as long as we like, but the contractions have been strong enough to be efficient and I'll be postponing the inevitable - my body just won't dilate.
7:30 am - this hour is one of the saddest and sweetest of my life. I cry as I type this part. My husband comes to me as soon as the doctor has left the room. I am still feeling every damn contraction and exhausted. I have had nothing to eat since before entering the hospital Monday night. No one has slept. And my husband holds me and we cry together. We can't even think of a question to ask or how to avoid it. We are beaten and battered and bruised and sad. The love I feel for my husband is beyond description, as is the terror at the choice I am now facing. I call Mom and Dad.
8:30 am - Mom and Dad arrive. We call the doctor back. We tell him to stop the damn Pitocin for all that is holy! We agree to the C-section. We are told it's our only choice.
9:30 am - New nurse, Norma, gets the anesthesia consult but has yet to relieve the damn contractions or lower the damn Pitocin. Cruel and unusual punishment.
10:00 am - I am prepped for how the procedure looks. My mother and father are devastated. It's a repeat of my mother's experiences. We all feel defeated. How do teenagers get babies out in between the Macarena and Electric Slide in a bathroom at prom, but I can't do this naturally to save my life - or my baby's?
10:30 am - It begins. Bye, Mom and Dad. We're headed to surgery. I cannot stop crying. Thank God for Norma and the anesthesiologists. My heart is breaking. My body is tired. Darkness.
11:00 am - I am on a table, laid out like a cross. Nathaniel is not allowed back yet. The kind anesthesiologists are explaining what is going to happen. I am having my ineffective epidural removed. I am going to need a full spinal block. I won't be able to feel anything from the diaphragm down. I can't really make heads or tails of any of it and don't have the time to, anyway. The blue curtain is put up. Where is my husband? Please get my husband.
11:30 am - Thank God my husband is here. I am in the throws of a panic attack. Please forgive me, clients, for not understanding before. I can't control my body, I can't breathe deeply, I am terrified. I am attempting to orient myself to time and space to eliminate these irrational fears and symptoms of panic, but I can't. Even the thought of my baby cannot calm me. I am in a full blown panic attack. My husband rubs my head and tells me about the plans we'll make to learn Italian as a family and move with our baby to Europe eventually. We'll teach him about the best art has to offer and allow him to grow up on a whole, healthy, Mediterranean diet. He also tells me the sorts of things that don't belong on a blog, but will be forever stored in my heart, in that deepest chamber where only the most special moments of love and respect are stored. I love this man. I cannot stop panicking. What is taking so long?
11:50 am - I have a son. I am not allowed to see him, but I hear him. Nathaniel is offered to cut the cord. I ask him not to leave me. He stays by my side. I'm sorry, Baby.
12:00 pm - Norma, super nurse, has found a way to let me do skin-to-skin with my baby in the OR. The only preservation of my original birth plan. Thank you, Norma. I hold my son on my chest as the doctor finishes his job. The baby and the drugs in the IV calm me. My husband never wavers or moves.

The rest of time from here is a blur. There was a night of hell as I continued to be poked and prodded and the baby was as well. I sent Nathaniel home to sleep that night and my mother stayed in the hospital with me. It was one of the darkest nights of my life. Nathaniel came back the next day with superpowers. He has been protecting, advocating, and assisting ever since then. My poor mother gave her body for me again, sleeping in uncomfortable positions if at all, and watching intervention after intervention after intervention. Bobby and Katie got to stick around a bit and Emory and Elizabeth got to meet their cousin briefly.

The only consistent beam of light at this time was our little boy. He's a bright beam, but in a starkly contrasted very dark world.

Recovery is still happening. The baby went on to lose 13% of his body weight - too much. We were terribly scared. My milk was very slow in coming in. I've compromised if not changed my plan at every turn. If I hear "It's good preparation... you can't always get what you want/planned in parenthood" one more time, I'm going to lynch someone. Thank you for the painfully obvious remark... experiencing trauma and wearing shoes that aren't perfect for your outfit are two different things, however. Even the baby's weight, I found out was augmented by this terrible experience - IV fluids can force a baby to retain water (it did me... check the facebook pics)... so, he came out puffy... then lost A LOT of weight... awesome.

I have so many questions that the mind not riddled with Pitocin and fear can create. Why did no one try to reposition him? When he was born via C-Section, you could see where his head had been pushed against my pelvis - off to the side, not aligned at all.

I am going to work on feeding my baby consistently at my breast - a final remnant of a natural, normal motherhood - before I deal with these demons. Nathaniel and I are more bonded as a unit than we have ever (or could ever) be. We've dealt with physical health, financial health, sleep deprivation, and other needs. He is the best possible man I could have married and evidence that my intuition is pretty spectacular... I should heed it more. My parents are more valuable to me than ever and, while I have always empathized with my mother's birth stories, I know sympathize as well. I am so thankful for Heather, who loved me so well in those hours and helped me work towards my natural childbirth goal. I am so happy for the time I got to spend with Bobby, Katie, and the kids and that our little boy got to meet family first off.

Lately, however, it has been contrasts. Black or white. Sorrow or joy. Love or fear.

His little face, however, is bringing homeostasis.

Moving on...

The doctor came in and, sure enough, no pain in contractions meant no dilation. So, we decided to break the water. It was the most painless procedure I could expect and has intensified the discomfort, although I still feel ok in general.

I am really hoping for a delivery before my nurse goes off duty at 7 pm... wishful thinking, I know... but, we're cheering him on...

Baby Boy's heart rate is perfect and he looks stellar still... I think he just made himself a nice mancave in there and doesn't want to leave...

Will update more later...

Quick Update...

I've been hooked up to the Pitocin drip since about 8 am now. The Foley bulb did its job and I am between 3 and 4 cm dilated. I am up to 12 mL per hour on the drip. I'm feeling good... the contractions are manageable. We're waiting for them to get more intense before we'll move on to anything other than Pitocin increases. We are evaluating if/when we'll be breaking my water.

I got some pretty good sleep last night and took a shower this morning... even put on some makeup... my hair, however, is a lost cause...

Our nurse is AMAZING and committed to helping us feel in control and have the outcome we want! THANK GOD FOR SUZI PATTON!!

We'll update you soon!

At the Hospital...

Nathaniel and I checked into the hospital last night. Nathaniel (rightly, I believe) decided that there was a point where medicine and nature would be offering equal benefits and risks and that we needed to heed that point carefully. As we have no crystal ball to see how everything would really go down and no previous pregnancies on which to base our timeline, the due date seemed like a wise time to judge that equality. Thus, we surrendered to our doctors' request that we induce at 40 weeks... today.

I will abstain from all the gross violations that have already happened, but so far, I am struggling with our decision. The first thing they did was give me an IV port. Having a history of surgeries and a season of excessive medical intervention, IVs are one thing that I absolutely abhor - they put me on the verge of panic! Additionally, they've offered me Ambien to sleep and, seemingly wrestled me with my (very good) decision to refuse psychotropic drugs the night before giving birth. Momentarily, they will be in to hook up the pitocin, which also scares me. I am still committed to doing this without an epidural, but pitocin makes that less likely, as contractions are closer together, more intense, and longer in duration.

We've just met our nurse... she's a naturalist, so that's a MAJOR stress reliever. I would appreciate any prayers, positive thoughts, ritual dances, and/or any other methods for promoting quick and effective delivery.

I guess it's too late to turn back now...

Sunrise on Baby Boy's birthday... and our beautiful view...

Daddy's final "sleep"

Command Central...

Dearest son,

Dear Baby Boy Eschler,

It is Friday evening, April 7 at 8:30 pm. Your Nonni and Papa brought pork chops and tater tots and vegetables over for dinner and we ate outside because the weather is beautiful. I went to the chiropractor, had an NST, and got a pedicure with your Nonni today. Your Tio Bobby and Tia Katie are about to get in their car with Emory and Elizabeth and head to North Carolina from New York because you are going to be here by Tuesday at the latest. And, honestly, it is time for you to come.

Don't get me wrong - I have enjoyed this pregnancy immensely. You have been a great child to host. My weight gain has been minimal, nausea was almost non-existent, energy was great, and the milestones were all accomplished on time. However, my feet are now swollen and the doctors want to coerce you out with a medical induction. Thus, I am hoping you come on your own... and quickly.

Just so you know, this is a bit about the world into which you are being born:

*We are 3 hours away from a "governmental shutdown." The democrats say it is the republicans fault. The republicans say its the democrats fault. Really, they're all overindulged babies who vote on their own pay raises and spend my money with reckless abandon... feel free to go into politics and change all that when you're older.

*Japan is recovering from the worst earthquake in recorded history. It happened March 11 and the world has been on the brink of a radioactive disaster ever since, as several nuclear reactors were damaged and the disaster kept relief efforts slow.

*Steve Carrell is about to leave "the Office." Will Ferrel is going to star in a 4 episode arc, which makes me really excited to soften the blow of his leaving. Your dad wants to crawl under a rock every Thursday night, but I'm really happy about it. Honestly, the show is on its way out and I'm just excited for the life this transition plan will breathe into the final lifespan of the show.

*Your mommy is a bit embarrassed to admit this, but the new JLo song is AWESOME. I loved her in college, but wanted to disavow myself of all love for her now that I am on the brink of official adulthood as someone's mother (and, she's on American Idol this season... Your father and I are vehemently opposed to all things kitchy and music-deteriorating... thus, American Idol does not happen in our house). However, JLo's song is awesome. I'm sure you've heard it in utero as I have driven down the road.

*Gas cost me $3.64 a gallon today. Not so OK...

*Charlie Sheen has completely lost his mind. Among some notable quotes are references to his Adonis genes, Tiger blood, the fact that he isn't "Bipolar... [he's] Bi-winning," and other random things. Mommy is convinced he has Bipolar Disorder and is in a manic episode.

*Your dad wants an iPad. He's really worried that Mac product control is going to go down once Steve Jobs isn't in charge. The newest iPad has problems, though... so we're not in a hurry to get one.

*The world is in a period of revolution. Historically, this trend is parallel to the last century. Mommy believes that Facebook played a part in helping people in formerly remote areas of the world realize that basic human rights and freedoms should be available to everyone. Egypt was a spark that ignited the North Africa/Middle Eastern barrel. Currently, America is in Libya with Yemen and Syria also gaining attention on the world stage. Many people are afraid that Al Quaida will have an open invitation to power or freedom in these newly emerging countries. I am going to choose to be optimistic and say that a grassroots freedom initiated by an empowered people can only be a good thing for the world at large - it was when your ancestors fought for it here on North American soil. I am hoping for similarly prosperous and peaceful outcomes in their area of the world.

*Your mommy, daddy, Nonni, and Papa love "Big Love." We've seen all 4 seasons. There is a new season that just finished which completed the series, but no one had HBO in time. We are considering watching it "by any means necessary."

*The Yankees opened their season SPECTACULARLY. The Red Sox did not win any of their first games. They did win their first one today, against the Yankees. Mommy is confident that tomorrow will right that score and they'll win the series. This is a rivalry that you will hear much about during your life. I trust you will choose wisely when the time comes.

*Jerry Sloan resigned as head coach from the Utah Jazz on February 11, 2011. Deron Williams (or DWill as your Aunt Anna called him repeatedly during our last trip out west) was traded to the New Jersey Nets on February 23. It is rumored that Deron Williams and Jerry Sloan had some sort of an altercation that caused Jerry Sloan to retire. No one ever confirmed that report. However, the Jazz had a pretty amazing season going until that point and were looking like they were going to get into the playoffs. Once the drama happened, all playoff dreams were dashed. Your father and Eschler grandparents still struggle to talk about it. We hope that by the time you are able to enjoy the games with your daddy, they will be in playoff condition once again.

There are so many other things I can't wait to tell you about and watch you learn about. I could not enumerate even a fraction of them if I had all the time in world.

But, in order to get any further, you must come out.

So, here I sit... next to your daddy on our very comfortable couch that we bought from Bobby and Katie when they moved to New York... having had all trigger points stimulated by doctors and pedicurists. Nonni and I chose baby blue nail polish (a color NEITHER of us would EVER choose) as a means of demonstrating our excitement about meeting you. Daddy got the neighbor's phone number so that Hector has a place to go if we need to leave in a hurry. The bag has been packed for over a week now. Our laundry is all clean, there are North Carolina plates on our car, your car seat is in there, and I am ready to implement the coping techniques I've been reading about for dealing with pain. Tomorrow is your great-Aunt Phyllis' birthday, so we already know that special people are born historically on April 9. All that's missing is you. I appreciate the few small hints you've given me that you are on your way... please send more.

AND GET OUT...

We can't wait to hug you once you're here... so please just get here!


Love always,
Mommy, Daddy and Hector

IT IS TIME... WOO?

We grew up in Europe, where American TV had yet to be formatted to the yet-to-be-invented (by Al Gore) internet, meaning we wandered in an abyss of foreign-language lotion commercials that showed more anatomy than my mother was comfortable with my brother knowing about in 1989. Between my brother's and my penchant for all things fast paced and Saturday morning and the German nation's conflicting fixation with anything Coke or Mickey Mouse, we did not enjoy watching European TV. The primary result of this disconnect was that my brother and I did not watch or want to watch nearly as much TV as we did stateside. The second outcome was one common to many or our family friends: my family quickly grew a VHS library that was marvelously impressive to compensate for our deficit.

No matter how impressive a collection, though, the limited number of productions that will entertain a 9 year old girl and a 7 year old boy while keeping their parents from committing hari kari for having to live through it are not vast. Thus, we watched movies on a loop. Our select number of favorites appeared on a rotation and we would watch them periodically, causing us to remember every detail about the movie since we held to it so dearly and internalized them repeatedly. We watched each movie that made the family cut like a lifeline to the American pastime of familial Boob-Tube bonding entertainment. One such movie was called "Heart and Souls."

I don't think it received too much stateside acclaim. It starred Robert Downey Jr. (who I have been in love with since I knew he existed... this movie may have done that for me) and Elizabeth Shue (the 80's dreamgirl who I believe now exists only on Lifetime TV). Robert Downey Jr. has 4 "imaginary" friends who are with him since he's a baby and he interacts with vibrantly as a child. The 4 are actually the souls of people who were killed in a bus accident that happened the night his father was driving his mother to the hospital. They eventually stop "playing" with Robert Downey Jr.'s "Thomas" character so he can grow up and be normal - not talking to dead people no one else sees and all. They end up silently following him throughout his life which, as is typical to 80s movies, is unremarkable with the emotional void in his life denoted by the German car he drives. We, the audience, come to find out that there was some supernatural oversight and these 4 spirits were supposed to have been picked up by the bus driver who caused the accident that took their lives (he's doing his Purgatory-penance by driving a celestial bus route to take people to the afterlife) YEARS earlier, after they had a chance to reconcile that one thing that would allow them to rest. Thus, "Thomas (the cookie boy)" was the "heart." They were the "souls."

When the bus doors finally fly open in a flash of light and mist, the bus driver dismounts his bus throne dramatically and looks at them, a group of 4 80's allstar actors (Alfre Woodard and Charles Grodin, anyone?) and, with disingenuous gravity to his voice shakes out, "Iiiiiiitttt Iiiiiiissss Tiiiimmmmeeee.... WWWOOOOOOOO..." After 30-something years of following Thomas silently, the 4 are pretty disheartened and difficult to impress. So, the smartass character looks at him and in a typically NY accent repeats "It is time? Woo?" with a flat affect.

I indulge in that long, reminiscent rant to say this: I feel like the smartass New Yorker spirit.

It is time? Woo?

Here I sit at full term and nothing. Not a thing. I am large and growing larger. Our baby continues his trek toward healthy weight and length with a blatant disregard for my need to walk without wetting myself. The crib is up and his room is, more or less, finished. I have his going home outfit, my going home outfit, his father's going home outfit, a car seat, batteries for the camera, a birth plan, and a generally clean house. I have all my cases at work poised to be taken over by someone else and my clients prepared to hear "She's not here right now. She won't be available until May," when they call and look for me. I have a husband on board, parents and parents in law jumping every time my number appears on caller ID and a brother ready to drive his family south for the blessed event. I have a dog that has been groomed and is ready, a growth chart put up in a now monkey-themed bathroom, my mortgage paid, a tax return on its way, and a full month of March worked. I have anxiety about doctors who want to artificially start a natural process and have been popping Evening Primrose oil like it's my job.

And nothing.

It is time? Woo?

So, instead of focusing on the discomfort (I can't call it pain... I just can't call it comfortable) of being this pregnant and full term and waking up after another full night's sleep (I ought to be shot for complaining about that, considering what other women go through to sleep at this stage and what I'm about to go through during these first few weeks and months of feeding), I am going to choose to be thankful.

I want to pause for a second to be thankful for the many, many, many reasons being here at this point, feeling as I do, is a gift to me and the baby:

* I am thankful this was not an ectopic pregnancy. I can still taste the fears of those first blog entries as I felt responsible for a life potentially damaged by the Birth Control pills I had been taking. I am thankful that the baby and I were not subject to that fate.

* I am thankful for 10 glorious weeks of married life I shared with Nathaniel before those lines appeared on those tests. Our adorable little apartment with our adorable little dog and dreams of living overseas and conquering the world were the perfect way to begin marriage.

* I am thankful that I never had morning sickness. And that the afternoon sickness I encountered was easily overcome.

* I am thankful that PCOS did not get to determine if I am a biological mommy or not. No one got a say in it, really... not even Nathaniel and I :)

* I am thankful we lived near family when we found this out. I am thankful that even though I will have to admit to my son one day that I cried when I first learned of his existence, the sweet memory of Elizabeth hanging off my mother's hip as she hugged me in our tiny bathroom while I wept is also attached to that story.

* I am thankful for the support of our family on the other side of the country. They got on board quickly and have loved us well!

* I am thankful for pregnancy hormones, which turned this ship around quickly for my heart and got me on board more quickly than I thought I could have.

* I am thankful that even though I was in a maternity shop at 7 weeks gestation to account for my "blossoming bosom," it stopped. The weight gain and "northern development" have been minimal!

* I am thankful for the traumatic transition between offices due to insurance issues.

* I am thankful for my insurance. The headache is great, but the alternative is scary!

* I am thankful for our new house and the chance to create an investment for our future while living in a little corner of the world that is a place of complete repose.

* I am thankful for the "growing pains" my family has experienced over the past 40 weeks. While I cannot say that I have enjoyed walking the path laid out for our development, I am hopeful for the ultimate outcomes and the health of the family in which Emory, Elizabeth, and Baby Boy grow up.

* I am thankful for my car being paid off and well working.

* I am thankful for having NO CONSUMER DEBT going into this, and even a tiny bit set aside.

* I am thankful for a job with flexible scheduling that allowed me to do what was necessary and only take 2 days of sick leave to compensate. I am thankful that, while I often complain about how much money I DON'T make, I've made enough to sustain us.

* I am thankful for Nathaniel's job, which has supplemented our income nicely.

* I am thankful I was able to quit my second job.

* I am thankful for my general health. I am thankful for being in touch with my body and knowing the baby was there despite the odds. I am thankful for knowing that the 1 and 3 hour tests were stupid for me and that I needed to monitor my blood sugar. I am thankful that I have been able to care for my body in a way that protects Baby Boy and me.

* I am thankful for my parents. There is no blog post long enough enumerate the ways they've saved us time and again. But I am thankful.... beyond what can be expressed.

* I am thankful for paint chips and vision and planning and fabric swatches and executing. I am thankful for the Brooklyn Bridge and Hart Crane and my mother's sewing machine, and the ancient rocking chair now made new. I am thankful for a new beginning anchored in rich heritage and marked with hand-stamped love.

* I am thankful for my husband. Typically, I abstain from public displays of affection - even in virtual form. However, I love this man. I am thankful he is the one I gave my life to nearly a year ago. I am thankful he is the one who has walked and, at times, stumbled down this path with me. I am thankful for our union, for the tests we've survived, for those yet to come, and for memories already made. I am thankful he is Baby Boy's daddy. I am thankful he is my husband. I am proud of him and would choose him again if I had to start all over.

* I am thankful for my husband's progress this year. His dissertation is submitted and only awaits his second reader's report. His music is in the possession of the New Music Brandeis organizer. We need to schedule his defense and then we are home-free. Job free as well. But, I'll be married to a Doctor by then :)

* I am thankful for the weekly pregnancy updates I got in my email. I am thankful that Baby Boy met each milestone as he should have and that the development was typical and healthy. I am thankful that I was not in the PhD program I wanted to be in and had the time to savor the passing moments of this pregnancy.

* I am thankful he is a boy.

* I am thankful for the people we have seen and gotten to be with during this time: Jen, Elizabeth, Stephanie, Brent, Matt, Michael, and many others have come to stay with us. We got to Utah and Tennessee to see everyone out there. I love that the love for us and Baby Boy, literally, wraps around the country.

* I am thankful for Hector. He is the world's coolest dog and best big brother possible.

* I am thankful that blood sugar was the fight I had to fight. Blood pressure, blood clotting, and spotting are all things that would have been potentially more devastating to deal with. I've watched people who have walked alongside me. Blood sugar was definitely the lesser of all possible evils.

* I am thankful for the new friends who love and walk with us. I love that my "old" friends are cycling back through and able to offer love and insight.

* I am thankful that I live somewhere where my biggest concern is red hair or brown. I don't have to worry about food or diapers or warmth or life-sustenance. Budgets are always scary, but I have resources and love beyond measure!

* I am thankful for Jessica, the doula who did our birthing classes. Never once did she attempt to indoctrinate us into a particular view of birth, yet she instilled in us a passion for a birth process that we are hoping to protect and live out. She truly educated us and educated us well.

* I am thankful that it is time. He can come whenever he likes with no worries or concerns about atypical things. He is fully baked and well prepared. Even mommy is ready to lose sleep and give her body over in a different way so that the next phase can begin.

* I am thankful for the plans that go after. Plans for Boston. Plans for Baby Boy's"coming out" party. Plans for possibly returning to school next year. Plans for what to dress him in when he comes home. Plans for Emory and Elizabeth to be here to love him as soon as he is out. Plans for Europe in a few short years. Plans for his expected tradition of excellence. Plans...

Because, that is what this baby has come to be. At first, he was a disruption to a plan. Then, he was the object of a new plan creation. Now, he is central to our future plans and the impetus for my newly forming, ever evolving life vision. He is hope for our future, redemption for our mistakes, and motivation for our shortcomings. He is already beautiful and terrifying and trying and rewarding and blessing and frustration and peace and insanity. He is already our son. We have already failed him. We have already given him more than we ever thought we could give another human being.

and now... it is time.