I wonder if you know that you break my heart into a million pieces everyday just with that little pointer finger.

You point at everything, and sometimes all at the same time saying, “what’s that?” (at least that’s what we think you’re saying).  You point at the pictures of yourself on the refrigerator (what’s that?), you point at the pictures on the wall (what’s that?), you point to the corner of the ceiling, at the windows, at the baby food I missed when wiping off your high chair tray (what’s that? what’s that? what’s that?).  You are curious about everything, as if you just now opened your beautiful eyes and took a look around.  And when your father asks you, “Nia, where’s Mommy?”  I wait for you to point at me and smile…and then you turn and point to the picture of me on the wall instead.  You are incredible.

Last week you started to wave, clap your hands, and give kisses all at the same time.  It was like you saved up for months and months and all of a sudden you were getting your skills together for your resume, and you were ready to impress.  Well, you got the job, Baby.  I was laying on the floor playing with you and you inched your chubby little face over to mine and looked me in the eye like you just now realized that we were in love…and then you leaned over and gave me a big, slobbery, baby kiss right on the mouth.  It was such an affectionate and deliberate gesture for such a little person that it took me by surprise and I started to cry.  But you just head-butted me and inched along your merry way as if to say, “I love you Mom, but now I have to go” and it made me so sad, and yet so proud to be your mother.

Tonight I gave you a bottle and then we stood to say your prayers.  I started doing this with you a few weeks ago, and every time you have gotten excited and squealed because you are really into babies and you like to look at the icon of baby Jesus.  But usually, that is the extent of it, so I kiss the icons to show you what to do and then it’s Good Night.  But tonight, as we were saying the Lord’s Prayer, you knew what was coming, and before I could get to the end of the prayer, that adorable pointer finger of yours was pointing to the icon of Jesus.  I brought it down off the shelf as I was finishing the prayer, and I held it up to your face…and you bent your sweet little head down…and kissed it.

And then a million more pieces of my heart just fell right onto the floor.

Love,

Mama

Nia is now two months old, and she will be graduating from high school soon I just know it.  She already rolls over from her belly to her back, and she says, “Mama” (seriously…who cares if she doesn’t know that it means the most important person in her life!).  Also, she can type sixty words per minute and get the boss his morning coffee, and all I’m saying is how many babies do you know who can do that?!

I absolutely adore her, and I REALLY adore the fact that because of her, I was able to not come to work for twelve whole weeks.  And now that I’m back, let me tell you…that was the best gift anyone has ever given me.  And now that she’s laid that precedent, I’m expecting miracles.  Nia, make me rich so I never have to work again and I can spend every day watching your lips purse and your toes spread!  (She’ll totally do it, you just watch…A-D-V-A-N-C-E-D, People!)

Just look what she can do with that smile:

See?  You’re saying, “Awwww” and smiling, aren’t you…a genius, my daughter is…

Nia will be one week old tomorrow, and it seems like she has been here with us all along.  She is a perfect blend of both Tony and I, and neither one of us could have imagined how much we would love her.

After our whole “experience” last Saturday with the Induction That Never Happened, we changed physicians and scheduled an appointment for an ultrasound the following Monday to determine how large the baby was.  The ultrasound showed that she was 9 pounds, 7 ounces.  I scheduled an appointment with the new doctor for the following day to discuss our options, and whether we would try for an induction again, or go ahead with a c-section.  But before the end of the day on Monday, as I was walking around the house looking for something to keep my mind off of the fact that I was MISERABLE, I started to piss my pants…well, at least that’s what I thought was happening.  But those kegal exercises weren’t working, and I couldn’t stop peeing!  That’s when it hit me that my water was breaking.  I ran to the bathroom and the liquid just kept coming.  I quickly cleaned myself up and walked out to where Tony was playing video games and said, “ummm, Tony?”

“Yeah.” (Totally in half-listening-mode)

“I think my water just broke.”

He immediately jumped up off the couch and started pacing around the apartment like he was on a mission, and yet he had no idea what his mission was.  I called the doctor’s office and explained to the nurse what had happened.  I told her I wasn’t 100% sure it was my bag of water, but she said to go to the hospital anyway…and so we did.  But before we even left the parking lot, as I was getting into the car…it started gushing all over again.

By the time we got to the hospital, I felt absolutely disgusting.  In the movies and on TV they make it seem like the woman’s water breaks in a gush all over the floor and then the baby’s born and that’s it.  Now I realize that there is a whole bunch of crap that happens in between, but the one thing I DIDN’T know, and that the nurses told me once I got there, is that once your water breaks…YOU NEVER STOP LEAKING GROSS SHIT ! I sat for sixteen and a half hours of labor with towels between my legs to catch the leakage.  I just was not expecting that.

Anyway, back to the story…

So the nurses informed me that another doctor was on-call (third doctor in one week) that day and that they had paged her because I was, indeed, in labor.  Shortly afterwards the doctor called and asked to speak with me.  We discussed what I wanted to do because as she looked over my chart, she confirmed that Nia was a large baby and that I had not progressed very much (I was 2cm dilated at this point, but she was still at a minus 3 station).  She said that if she had to guess, with this being my first baby and all the factors involved, my risk for a c-section should I choose to deliver vaginally was about 60%.  At this point, I thought that I would probably end up with surgery, but if there was a small chance that I could avoid it, I was going to try…but under the circumstances, I didn’t want to labor for days in pain and end up on the operating table anyway…so my plan for a natural childbirth went out the window, and I got the epidural.

The Epidural…let me tell you something about it.  After laboring to almost 4cm without it, it really does feel like heaven once you do get it.  But for me, heaven didn’t stick around long.  I had to be re-dosed three times because it kept wearing off.  And even during the moments when it was working, I still had back labor (baby was sunny-side-up) and the pressure of her head was exruciating.  Later, after being stuck at 7cm for three hours, we determined that the pressure was due to her not being able to fit through my pelvis, and because my cervix was now swollen instead of being thinned out…a c-section was our new plan of action.  Oh, and also?  It was change of shift and a new doctor was on call, so DOCTOR NUMBER FOUR would be cutting my baby out!

Seriously…at that point, I wanted to cut her out myself, so Dr. Whatever Your Name Is was just fine with me.

I need to take a moment to tell you about my coach…while I know this man loves me, it is apparent that he is not cut out for labor coaching.  He complained that his back hurt when I needed him to put pressure on my back during contractions.  He complained that his hands hurt when I needed him to rub my back.  He complained that he was tired and needed coffee.  And then at 8am on Tuesday when it was time to go to the operating room, he was the grouchiest grouch I had ever met in my life.  Now I wasn’t expecting that the universe would revolve around me just because I was giving birth, but I certainly didn’t expect that he would think that the universe should revolve around HIM!  So not what I expected.  But before they wheeled me into the OR, I told him to get his act together, I knew he was tired, but our daughter was about to be born and he needed to snap out of it! 

And then…about ten minutes later, I heard him yell, “oh, Oh, OH!” and then I heard her beautiful cry.  Tony was pacing around the operating room saying over and over again, “It’s ok!  Daddy’s here!”  He was DEFINITELY in a better mood.  It seemed like forever before someone finally showed her to me, and even then I couldn’t really see her because they held her about a millimeter in front of my face, and I don’t know about you, but for me…objects need to be a normal distance away from my face in order for my eyes to focus on them.  So, I just cried and cried as my daughter cried, and I just kept thinking to myself what a beautiful blurry blob they just pulled out of me!

Someone yelled out that she scored a ten on her APGAR tests (obviously, she’s a genius), and someone else weighed and measured her at NINE POUNDS, FIFTEEN OUNCES.  Oh yes, she was a ten pound baby.  No wonder she wouldn’t fit.

Eventually, they escorted Tony out, sewed me up, and FINALLY laid that piece of my soul that I had been carrying around for nine months on my chest and let me snuggle with her all the way to the recovery room.  THAT was my moment.  The moment I had waited for…the moment my life changed, and yet felt like it was just as it had always been.  I held my daughter in my arms, and she held my heart in her hands…and I felt God smile on us both.

I am so in love.

1.  My doctor told me I was 2cm dilated and never told me that the baby had not dropped into my pelvis.  In fact, my doctor never gave me any straight answers, even when asked.  Because patients are to be seen and not heard, didn’t you know?  Patients do not need to be knowledgeable about their own bodies…that’s why they have doctors.

2.  When I arrived at the hospital at 8am, NO ONE knew I was coming, the nurses did not have any of the necessary paperwork on me, and the doctor on call had no idea that I was even there.  My doctor never called me to tell me that he would not be there today, and evidently, he never let the on-call doctor know that I would be one of her patients today.

3.  The on-call doctor tried to page my doctor several times so that they would be on the same page and so that she could start the induction.  She didn’t feel comfortable starting the Pitocin without his information, because apparently, our scenario doesn’t usually warrant one at this hospital without proof of the baby being larger than normal*.  When my doctor never answered her page, she came in to do a pelvic exam and determined that Nia’s head has not engaged into my pelvis.  She said that it is obvious to her that Nia is a large baby, and in her experience, she thinks that she has not dropped because her head is too large for my narrow pelvis.  She said that in her opinion, an induction will not work in my case, and a c-section is what I will end up with. 

I did not get a c-section today.

I did not get a c-section today because I am not this doctor’s patient, and without an ultrasound she could no tprove that one was necessary and  cover her ass if anything went wrong in the operating room.  Also, the head of the department at the hospital was informed of what was going on, and he did not feel comfortable with continuing my care under the circumstances. 

(* There is proof of the baby being larger than normal…my ultrasound from two weeks ago.  However, the on-call doctor said she needed an updated ultrasound today, and there was no one there on the weekend to do it.  This is complete bullshit as THIS IS A HOSPITAL and THE RESULTS OF MY LAST ONE ARE IN MY CHART.)

4.  I was instructed to call to make an ultrasound appointment on Monday to assess Nia’s size, and if she is in fact over 9lbs, a c-section will be scheduled (by the new doctor).  My first phone call will be to switch OBGYN’s. 

I thought I was going to meet my daughter today, and instead, I once again was kept in the dark by my physician, I learned that a vaginal delivery is unfavorable for my body even though he was going to put me on Pitocin and let me labor for at least 2 DAYS.  I felt like I was asking question after question and the only one giving me straight answers was a doctor I had never met before in my life as her fist was jammed into my cervix (speaking of which, she told me I was only 1cm dilated…not 2cm).  We sat at the hospital for 3 hours waiting for my doctor to answer his page…and he never answered.  If he would have done his job, if he would have had courtesy for his colleague AND for his patient, I would be holding my baby girl.  Instead, I am pissed off and still pregnant.

The odds of Nia coming on her own are not great, as there is nowhere for her to go…she probably wants the hell out of there, but the poor thing is stuck.  So I won’t be waiting for my water to break or for contractions to get any stronger.  I will only be waiting for good patient care…I hope I don’t have to wait forever.

Sorry if this post jumps around all over the place….my thoughts have no fluid movement when I want to punch someone…Tony, come here.  Let me punch you so that I can post a decent blog…

Oh…did I mention that my doctor scheduled my induction on a day he’s not even on-call, my baby will be delivered by a doctor I never met, and he didn’t have me sign any of the forms or give me any information that I was required to have?  So when I arrived here, the nurses were confused, I was irritated, and now…I’m still waiting.

There is good news, however.  I am contracting regularly…every three minutes…even though I can’t really feel anything and I am already somewhat dilated and effaced…so things are happening regardless of whether the doctors have their shit together.

Hopefully this baby will be born today.

Does it make me a bad mother that I want to evict my daughter?  I mean, if I could send someone in to physically remove her from the premises I would do it in a heartbeat.  It’s not like she’s been the best tenant, have you seen my KNEES?!   No?  You haven’t?  Well NEITHER HAVE I!  I have these large, round stumps where the knees used to be, and if she doesn’t move out soon, I fear that I may never recognize my body again.  Tony has been coping with these changes fairly well…he only called me Chubs once today (although it’s only 5pm).

There is good news!  Well, the most obvious being the fact that Antonia will be here so soon, and when I actually let myself think about it, the thought of her is so overwhelming that I immediately push it out of my head.  I just can’t imagine what Tony and I are going to feel, and how much our lives are going to change, and how much love we are going to have for this little girl.  And when my doctor told me that he would induce Saturday morning if she didn’t come on her own, it all became immediately real.  I’m going to meet my daughter for the first time this week…and I can’t wait to show her how much I love her (and how much knees should never look like this).

Yesterday I went to the doctor in hopes that he would tell me they were going to induce labor…the past few weeks have been rough ones.  I have developed a rash (called PUPPP) all over my belly and ankles.  The only thing that will make it go away is giving birth to you…and you haven’t been showing any signs of coming out.  Some think that the cause of this rash is your DNA attacking mine…you’re ATTACKING ME!  I mean, I know that mothers and daughters sometimes butt heads, but really…could you at least wait until you’re a teenager?  This, along with the constant heartbearn and the fact that you are over eight pounds now is making it very difficult to not want to reach in and pull you out myself.

There is hope, however.  At the appointment yesterday, the doctor stripped my membranes.  Yes, it was as awful as it sounds…he separated my bag of waters from my cervix…with his big football player hand…twice.  This was done in hopes that things would start to progress and I would go into labor on my own.  Because if my body doesn’t progress this week, labor will be induced early next week with medication…and we really want to avoid that.  You must have known that we meant business because at 4:30 this morning I went to the bathroom to pee for the 500th time…and out came my mucous plug.  Gross?  Yes.  Absolutely the most exciting thing that has happened to me in awhile?  OhmyGodYES! 

And since then?  I have had two whole real contractions.  TWO!  Now, I’m not going to get all excited and start calling the family yet, but this is real progress.  It could be hours, it could be days, but now I finally believe that you are really going to come out.  You’re not going to live in my body forever!  Because I was pretty much convinced that I was going to have to sit through grade school all over again so that you could learn your multiplication tables by listening through my uterus.  Also, you’re not going to make me gain any more weight and stretch out my skin until I feel like salt water taffy…you’re going to come out soon!  Keep up the good work, Sweet Girl.  I know it’s warm and cozy in there…but it is so much more out here.

(I’m not even just saying that so you’ll come out, I swear.)

Love,

Mama

And, well, since Antonia will be here in a couple weeks and her nursery is FINALLY finished…I will post some before and after photos for your viewing pleasure.  I’m really excited about how her room turned out…I had the vision up there in my mind, and it just came together exactly how I wanted it to.

BEFORE:

 AFTER:

The walls look like they’re two different colors in these pictures because sometimes I used a flash and sometimes I didn’t, but the “greener” color is more accurate.

In addition to all the nesting, we had our 37 week appointment yesterday, and now our little one is FULL TERM!  She is only measuring one week ahead instead of four (THANK GOD!) and next week, the doctor said he will start to check to see if I’m dilated and effaced.  Let’s hope that I am…I mean, wouldn’t it be nice if I could walk into Labor & Delivery already 7 or 8 centimeters?  Wishful thinking, I know…but a girl can dream.

Daddy and I got to see you again yesterday for my 36 week ultrasound.  The doctor is still a little nervous because I am measuring ahead of schedule, so he wanted to get your measurements to make sure you aren’t a toddler.  I am pleased to tell you that you are a perfectly formed infant, and you are weighing in at six pounds, fourteen ounces.  They are anticipating that if you stay in there until your due date, you will weigh about eight and a half pounds – a perfectly respectable size, in case you were worried.

I just want to warn you now that your father has an addiction to his iphone, and just because he was taking pictures of the ultrasound technician instead of looking at your beauty, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less.  He has a sickness, you see, and he was completely sidetracked by the fact that she was an attractive version of his ex-girlfriend (his words, not mine).  However, when I started laughing and said, “Look, Tony, I think she has your toes!”, he immediately stood up and looked at your feet and grinned from ear to ear.  So maybe when you get here and he’s completely ignoring you because he’s on the phone, you should just remind him of how excited he was to see those toes and give him a good swift kick.

We also got to see some good views of your lovely face, but unfortunately, the pictures are a little blurred.  Daddy and I both think that you have my upper lip (Grandma Alice’s genes are pretty strong when it comes to that lip), and I have to admit, that made me smile.  We won’t know if any of this is accurate until we meet you, of course, but we’re having so much fun daydreaming.  I already know that, no matter what, you are breathtaking…partly because you take my breath away, and mostly because God pieced you together.  How can you be anything else?

Over the weekend, we sat around at Baba and Deda’s and played some music for you.  You were loving the spotlight, performing like you just knew we were all watching.  You seem to like the accordian and violin a lot, and you were equally energetic with Serbian, Gypsy, and Salsa music.  We imagined you in there clapping at the end of each song, and “Opa!” -ing during the lively beats.  We have no idea what you were really doing, but  we do know that my belly was rolling and manipulating into the strangest shapes.  You were right there spending the day with us, and I know at least for me, it made the day ten times better.

I get to kiss your face in three weeks… 

I hope you like us…because I already love you more than I could ever express with words.  It’s a feeling somewhere amidst a summer breeze before a thunderstorm and a tightened sob just as it is released…and while some people might view those as negatives…they are two of my most favorite feelings in the world.  Because when the rain and the tears finally fall…what comes next is a moment that is fresh and new, a deep breath of the very first time.  That’s you, Antonia.  You are our next very first moment…and that, my love, is special.

Love,

Mama