Mom Envy

I have felt it from the moment I got pregnant to this very second sitting here in my Lululemon wannabe yoga pants. I am pretty sure I felt it even before one of my eggs was fertilized. I am talkin’ about mom envy. This is not necessarily new territory as various types of envy have at some point crept in and out of my life (fitness guru body envy, independent woman traveling to exotic locations envy, fashion blogger envy, the list really goes on and on). I constantly wonder if all moms feel it at some point during their messy scuffle through motherhood or I am way alone on this. That constant comparison and envy of other moms who (in my eyes) have it all figured out. Their sh*t is so together, I bet their baby has slept through the night since birth, is already reading at an 8th-grade level, and has more followers on Twitter than Beyonce’s twins. Oh, and their six pack abs are back at 3 weeks postpartum? Cool (I am peeking down at my new Jell-O bowl of a tummy).

 (self explanatory)

(self explanatory)

I whole heartedly blame social media for my obsession over the picture perfect ladies wrangling their 3 kids while looking like a super model. Though these pangs of jealousy would assuredly be there without it, I have slowly come to realize that those tiny square pictures are just that; pictures. How often is someone able to catch a swoon worthy millisecond and add it to their social media page? The answer is always. Behind every millisecond of a picture there is back sweat, a ripped pair of pants, dark circles that no amount of coffee can cure (but a filter sure can) and a baby that loses their sh*t.  

How do I know this? Well for one, because I am of course guilty of it. Mostly because I am sure not many of my friends want to see my (handsome, beautiful, amazing, and genius) baby red-faced crying while I trudge through a volcanic diaper blow out in my sweat pants from yesterday and unwashed top knot bun. In the background of an unedited picture, you would see baby toys strewn about, mail stacked on the dinner table, and dishes in the sink. A scene that would likely raise anyone's blood pressure instantly. Social media likes and followings are fueled by the pretty things in life, and lots of behind the scenes are not that pretty to outsiders (even though all these moments are beautiful to ME). The first few weeks of motherhood I wanted so badly to be that picture perfect image of a woman who has easily transitioned into motherhood. Though the transition has been my greatest accomplishment and fulfilled my heart even more than I can understand myself, it was a difficult transition.

 Behind the scenes of my favorite pic. Damn we cute

Behind the scenes of my favorite pic. Damn we cute

This post is in no way meant to shame those moms with a bangin’ Instagram feed. Many mom blogs I read and feeds I follow are candid, honest, and open about what it took to get that flawless picture. I take their posts, tips, and tricks and attempt to apply them in my own motherhood journey. I mean, I am obviously not posting pictures of my up close mom bod, Nash crying after a diap explosion, or me in my pajamas at 11 am scrambling to keep our floors clean. After all, I am human and I enjoy having a creative outlet on social media. I simply wanted to highlight for myself and other new moms that it is literally impossible to be that all around picture perfect woman on the daily. The time you get with that baby is fleeting, and life itself is pretty much fleeting. So why worry about your outward image on a screen when your energy is better spent on snuggling that blob of love you just grew and birthed (up top girl). Don't think because I am writing this that I have overcome mom envy because I feel it. I still constantly remind myself that we are all human, imperfect, and gross sometimes (even you Beyonce). Cheers to you mom, chillin’ in your sweatpants and eating leftover pizza for breakfast. Not a damn thing wrong with that my friend. 

Adjusting to Life With Baby

I have experienced some pretty terrifying moments in my adult life, but when leaving the hospital with that brand new human I almost, quite literally, sh*t my pants. Pregnancy is long, labor is hard, but the moment you realize that tiny, fragile blob of human solely relies on you for SURVIVAL is crazy overwhelming. Our insurance covered a three day stay for his delivery so you better believe we hung around until last possible minute (can we get a late check out please?). Walking out of the hospital with Nash, DJ and I (in addition to being tired AF) were at a loss. Do we need to go through some sort of evaluation? Any kind of baby customs we have to get through before going home? Nope, he is ours for the taking. Up until that moment, we had been surrounded by well-trained nurses, doctors, and lactation consultants. Suddenly, it was just us, a couple of rookie wannabe parents. You mean they don't send us home with a complimentary live-in nurse? I want a refund BlueCross! JK, JK. 

 Mr. Nash 1 day old 

Mr. Nash 1 day old 

The prep work for this baby was extensive, to say the least. We are talking extreme clean nesting, research on products to aid parents and baby, and how basically to care for a baby. You name it and we were well versed in it. I tend to be slightly unorganized and scatterbrained by nature, but I felt confident before Nash was born that I was prepared for any curve ball that baby had for us. Well, all that prep work pretty much went to crap our first night home. About an hour in, we realized that no matter how many articles you read or classes you take, they ain’t sh*t compared to real life. Shortly after returning to our crash pad, Nash begins to fuss. I try and nurse and, wouldn't ya know it, I cannot get him to latch. We only had ONE successful latch in the hospital without two nurses hands assisting, so I was kind of hoping for a miracle with future feedings (like how Smalls felt in the outfield in The Sandlot). Well, he won’t eat so maybe he has a fever? This furnace of a baby decided to join us during the hottest week of the year, so I take his temperature four times (no fever, just a paranoid mom).  Does he want to be swaddled? Little Houdini keeps breaking free of any amateur wrap we get him in, so thats a bust. Diaper change? Nope he's clean. OMG should there be poop? When did he poop last? At this point, the fuss has morphed into an all out scream. I lose it and begin to cry hysterically. What have we done?! I can’t do this! We need to go back for help! Thank sweet baby Jesus for DJ who, without saying a word, calmly takes Nash from me and retreats to our bedroom. I sat by myself and sobbed for about ten minutes (boob hanging out of my nursing bra and all) thanks to this overwhelming responsibility, hormones, a sore vagina, and serious sleep deprivation. 

 Mr. Nash at 1 week 

Mr. Nash at 1 week 

 Mr. Nash 2 months old 

Mr. Nash 2 months old 

Those first few days home with Nash were stressful, to say the least (I have that hot stress sweat on the back of my neck even just writing about this). Does any first-time parent out there feel great about the first days home with baby (if so tell me your secret)? I need to emphasize that parenting is hard. Like, really freakin’ hard. And to be as cliche’ as possible, that baby is totally worth it. Having that baby changes your life in every way you could think of (and not think of).  I honestly feel nothing can ever prepare you for that life change until its actually happening. Not to be so dramatic but there were multiple days where I would cry and feel like I did not deserve to have something so perfect. I NEVER want this baby to be in pain or uncomfortable in the slightest. However, like all difficult things in this world, practice makes perfect. One day at a time we learn, grow, and begin to work together like a well-oiled machine (well that is a reach, but we like to think so). I don't necessarily have any tips or tricks for this very broad topic, but I would like to give new parents (and myself, who am I kidding) encouragement when the responsibility feels too heavy. When I am drowning in diapers and Nash and I are both crying, I remind myself these moments are fleeting. “It will not be like this for long” on repeat in my head. If anything, the newborn phase goes by too quickly, I already am blown away at Nash’s 2-month picture compared to his newborn. Soak in every second! The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Solo Parenting: Level 1

Here is a feel good post for anyone who woke up and took the struggle bus today. Most of DJs work is out of town so it was inevitable that I would soon be left alone with Nash for a few days at a time. Day one into night one flying solo goes by smooth until the wee hours of the morning. I am woken from my 2 hour power nap in-between my boss’ 3 am and 5 am meal times to a little whine/cry. No big, I’ve been a mom for a whopping 6 weeks now, so I am pretty much an expert. I scoop him out of the bassinet and immediately feel a damp little booty (first time this has happened). I don't need to be completely awake to realize we have a blow out on our hands. Mild panic sets in, but I attempt to keep my cool. I make my way to his nursery across the hall, baby in hand, when my bare foot sinks into another slushy surprise. Eyes still adjusting to the little light that is on I make out that poor Trixie (our dog) has barfed not once, not twice, but THREE times (three separate locations) in-between our room and Nash’s nursery. On the bright side, it is not poop (not much better but we are staying positive people). Hobbling on one and a half feet toward the changing table, I opt to keep the big lights off to spare Nash’s eyes while getting through this diaper/outfit change. Finally, to top off this early morning debacle, mid stride I kick the absolute crap out of my pinky toe. WHAT IN THE ACTUAL EFF IS HAPPENING? 

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Parenting is hard, but I pay extreme homage to those who does it alone (permanently or periodically). The following 15 minutes were filled with tears (both Nash and I) and an overwhelming sense of failure. How was I supposed to survive the next 3 days without my sidekick? I tend to be a bit of a scatterbrained hot mess but since Nash was born I am actually a chicken with my head cut off. Don't ask how the next few hours unfolded because I am not too sure I remember it myself. It consisted mostly of frantic phone calls to DJ (4 am everyone), baby poop in my hair, band aid hunting, and snacking on Nestle cookie dough from the fridge. The first thing I do when an acceptable hour arrives is call my mom for some moral support. The second thing I do is call super mom friend (who is intermittently alone with TWO diapered hoodlums) for some guidance. I have to somehow get my sh*t together, what are all the mom secrets I don’t know yet? Well, the good news is there is not one big key to solo parenting success, it is mostly trial and error. Being the professional mom that I am (please note the sarcasm), I have a list of first-hand tricks (in addition to the “phone a friend” option) that may help any unaided parent get through those days before you feel like you need an “eject” button. Created with the input of super mom friend of course. 

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1)Breastfeeding bucket: once that baby is on the boob I turn statue still (Nash is a picky eater, that nipple better stay RIGHT where he wants it or all hell breaks loose). I have a little bucket with everything you may want in that moment. Items included: baby nail clippers, burp rag, nipple shield, water bottle, hand sanitizer, nasal aspirator, baby wipes, and pretzels because mama is hungry (subject to change…other favorites include Pringles and fruit snacks).

2)Prep prep prep: I finish laundry, shop for food that takes minimal prep (bagels, smoothies, granola bars), and take the longest shower before DJ leaves (needy baby won't chill even in the Rock N Play for my showers). When I don't get a chance to prep I try and catch up while the boss sleeps. 

3)Find that baby’s weakness. Some babies love the swing, some love that wrap/carrier, some can’t stay awake after you nurse them. Having that little ace in your pocket can help your sanity. 

 Fancy wraps and expensive carriers? No thanks. Baby prefers random $30 Baby Bjorn we found at TJ Maxx :/

Fancy wraps and expensive carriers? No thanks. Baby prefers random $30 Baby Bjorn we found at TJ Maxx :/

4) Change expectations of yourself. This one I struggled with especially coming down from my aggressive nesting. Super mom friend highlights the importance of this, remembering even on your worst day, you are a lot better than a lot of the others in this world. The house will be messy, dishes will not be done, and you’ll be happy just to eat that bag of Cheetos for dinner (wait, this is the dream right?) But your baby is alive, healthy, happy, and SO LOVED. You go girl (or guy).

5) Two words (or maybe one, I am not sure). Amazon. Prime. Each day my fear of curious crusty strangers decreases but if I can keep my trips to big stores to a minimum I feel that’s a win. Paying for shipping is for chumps so it is actually a double win.

If you have any tips or tricks please share! Raising mini humans takes a village and we gotta stick together. Power in numbers (since one baby equals 3 drunk adults). 

Mom Bod: cool like Dad Bod right? (pt 1)

OBVIOUSLY, your body goes through some serious sh*t when you decide to make a human. There honestly is nothing more enjoyable than seeing your belly get bigger and being totally cool with it. “Yeah I’ll have a double double with fries and a chocolate shake please” with no shame. During weeks 34-39 of pregnancy, I was really feeling maxed out; just when I thought my belly could not possibly get any bigger, it just kept getting effin’ bigger. Excellent. Watching me (literally) roll out of bed in the weeks before Nash was born was a scene straight out of your favorite comedy. If you hadn’t already guessed, I was not an avid gym goer during my pregnancy. I gave a valiant once-a-week effort in my first trimester and that was good enough for me…too busy trying not to barf to death. 

Like almost every girl in the entire world, I have at one time or another struggled with body image (I just want to eat pasta in my yoga pants, not actually do yoga). As to be expected, those 8 months after getting knocked up I was the heaviest and largest I have ever been. However, as any mother-to-be should be, I could not have been happier about it. A mini miracle comes out of that thing! Fast forward birthing 10 pounds of baby I was introduced to my brand new “mom bod”. First thought looking in the mirror, “what is that?!” Second thought, “I totally don't care, look how cute my kid is”. Third thought, “f*#k yeah girl you just MADE a HUMAN”. It’s not like I had a BBG physique pre-baby, but that kind of change is pretty drastic. Regardless, my body had just opened a huge can of whoop ass on itself which deserves serious praise and time to heal. 

 These days I stick to any loose fitting clothes. "These sweatpants are all that fit me right now".

These days I stick to any loose fitting clothes. "These sweatpants are all that fit me right now".

So while adjusting to this new “mom bod”, I am still stupid sore, trying to keep a newborn happy, and pretty much running off of 2 minutes of sleep (how else do you know if your baby is breathing while they sleep? Gotta stay awake and watch them DUH). If we talked during my pregnancy you are well aware that my lil’ fetus and hormones put me through the ringer, so I am no poster child for that elusive “pregnancy glow”. Pregnancy for me meant lots of morning (all day) sickness, hormonal acne, stretch marks (showing up in the LAST MONTH) and all that other good stuff. I am not trying to scare anyone or complain, even with this intense pregnancy I was happy to just be pregnant; I’m sure other moms would agree.

If there is anything that Donna Meagle and Tom Haverford taught me (Parks and Recreation on Netflix if you haven’t) is to “treat yo self”. I started with a mani-pedi. I may look like a crust bucket most days but my nails will be on point! It seems minuscule but something that simple helped me feel a little normalcy. Thankfully Mr. Nash naps HARD in his car seat, but my mom joined in case the boss woke up mid mani-pedi. I never want to be that person that gives advice (being a new mom I have PLENTY of that from strangers) but I do feel it is essential to find anything that makes you still feel like you. Here are 4 more things that make me feel better while healing/adjusting to my new and improved mom bod. 

 "Get ready babe I'm a lil heavier than I used to be!"

"Get ready babe I'm a lil heavier than I used to be!"

-Going outside: I turned into Gollum when Nash “my precious” was born (much too afraid of germs). Just sitting out in our backyard for 30 minutes a made a world of difference
-Actually doing my makeup (or whatever it is all you flawless skin shiny-haired moms do to get ready)
-Writing (obviously): I write down everything so I won't forget. First smiles, laughs, getting pooped on, etc. High school Carolyn is shaking her head and thinking “nerrrrrd”.
-Complimenting myself: NOT meant to toot my own horn or be cliche, but I give myself/body a compliment each day. That thing literally grew our handsome son from a blob of cells, so no shade thrown at this mom bod. Examples include, “hey vagina, way to still look the same after that fiasco”. 
There is much more to follow discussing mom bod, stay tuned!

Breastfeeding: Here to make you really feel like you have no idea what your doing

So I originally titled this blurp "Breastfeeding: the unsuspecting nipples guide to getting through it" and I'm still thinking it might be an equally appropriate heading. I definitely did research breastfeeding tips from online sources and truth be told it was not even concern of mine pre-baby. 

Breastfeeding has this "naturally comes to you" kind of aura, and I am sure for some women/baby combo's it does. Luckily that little babe comes out of there having a general idea of what to do. But surprise! It takes patience, practice, and some serious grit to master this ancient nipple art. My milk came in about 5 days after Nash was born, and up until then I was uncomfortable but dealing with it. I woke up to a soaked tee shirt with both of my boobs feeling and looking like they were full of cement. The best part? My nipples were still adjusting to a human mouth abusing them for 13 hours a day.  For two days I came ridiculously close to saying f*@$k it and getting formula. Does everyone feel like this?? Why would nobody tell you??

Truth be told, I am certain most moms literally forget a lot about the first few weeks with a newborn (a nice mix of sleep deprivation and basic survival). I have been blessed with AMAZING friends, some of which have been there and done that with babies. Their trailblazing experience with babies has helped me cope with these beautiful, bodily surprises.  I had stocked up on a few items (coconut oil and boob pads) I thought I would need for breastfeeding. Remember my "I don't need any pain management" mantra; can't be much else I would need for feeding my baby. Well, thank sweet baby Jesus my lifelong super-mom friend brought me a slew of Lansinoh products after hearing my cries. 

-Nursing pads: I can't even leave the bathroom without these bad boys but I have talked with some moms who never needed 'em (lucky bitches).

-Lansinoh TheraPearl 3 in 1 hot or cold breast therapy: These came in handy for when you suffer from, the worst word in the English vocabulary, ENGORGEMENT. On standby in the freezer and by the microwave at all times.

-Lansinoh Soothies gel pads: THESE babies were a literal game-changer. A little pricey for the two pads reusable up to 72 hours, but I would have drained my bank account to keep these in our fridge. Recommended to me by a nurse/lactation consultant, I stuck these in the fridge and wore them in-between feedings. I am not sure what that magic gel does but my nips were GRATEFUL.

-Medela Nipple Shield: We had to use these when first figuring out how to get a good latch. If you can tell from pictures, Nash has a chin that is super recessed (has since grown into it) so latching for him was difficult. The shield not only gave my nipples a break but allowed for Nash to latch immediately. Obviously, don't go using these from my recommendation, see a lactation consultant like I did!

-Expressing some of that baby juice personally helped me not want to pass out when Nash would latch on. This was kind of a gamble since you definitely can't predict when that wild animal will be hungry. If I could get in a hot shower and express some before he ate I absolutely felt better while he nursed.  

Birth Story aka WTF just happened

June 11th is a surprisingly overcast and rainy day (my absolute favorite). My mom and dad had come over and all day I kept saying "no contractions, Braxton Hicks, nothing? I'm going to be pregs forever!" June 12th I turn 28 years old, and being due June 15th I have some BIG plans to celebrate this birthday; breakfast in the morning with my bestie at my favorite coffee/breakfast spot (Alicias) and dinner with my parents and DJ. I know, wild right! DJ and I picked up some Mexican take out for dinner and I thought to myself  "this is the best early birthday present! Rainy day, mexican food for dinner and this baby is nowhere in sight!" Not that I was not excited to meet our STILL nameless baby, but I have this notion that I can control every situation so a looming due date didn't stop me from procrastinating on setting up his nursery (I mean the big stuff was in there, just not set up). We also have big plans on Monday to deep clean my car, the bathrooms, finish putting in the swamp cooler... you catch my drift... controlled procrastination!

Eating my burrito and watching The Hunger Games as DJ takes a shower, my tummy starts feeling super uncomfortable for a few seconds and then relaxes. I tell DJ when he's out "something's happening in there, but I'm sure is nothing...maybe just some Braxton Hicks or early contractions". The sun starts going down and I am consistently feeling this tightening in my tummy, so I drink some water, switch positions on the couch, and eventually decide to go lay down in bed and try to sleep it off.  I've been binge watching The Office each night before bed so I choose my favorite episode (when Pam and Jim stay at Dwights beet farm) but I am having a hard time concentrating on it because my "Braxton Hicks" were strong enough that I needed to close my eyes and deep breath through them. DJ falls asleep around 11 and at that point I decide maybe I should be timing these things, even though I KNOW they are nothing. Starting off at 12 minutes apart, down to 7 minutes apart, and then to 4 minutes apart. Fuuuuudddddggggeee. I wake DJ up (about 1 am) and tell him he may need to pack his bag. I hop in the shower and when I get out I find DJ in the other bathroom trimming his beard!  "Dude! We have things to do! Put that car seat in and get your bag packed!" My uterus' timing is ridiculous, we were both so tired (later we laughed about how funny it was he wanted to shave, and that he was adamant about finding a polo shirt to wear so he could "look nice" when he met his son). 

We got to the birth center at our local hospital around 2:30 am. Having these contractions so close together I am confident I'm at LEAST a 4 or 5 (flood gates are open people, it's show time)! When nurse Esme told me I was only dilated to 2  I'm like WHAT the crap, maybe I'm not cut out for child birth! What was I supposed to do with consistent contractions every 3 minutes?? Thankfully they decided to keep me for 3 hours to see if I progressed at all; by the time 5:30 am  rolled around I was dilated to a 3 (I had also barfed twice so I'm feeling A LOT more nervous about all this labor business).  Luckily the nurses had talked to my FAVORITE doctor I have every had, Dr, Bradley, who wanted me to get in the bath  tub to see if that helped speed up my dilation. It should be noted I had no intention of getting in a tub for his birth; I will pass on marinating in my own bodily birth fluids, thanks. 45 minutes in the tub and another good barf session while submerged ended me at a 5... ready to be admitted ( coming up on 8 long ass hours with contractions). Happy birthday Carolyn (insert side smirk emoji). I distinctly remember being in the tub and hearing Alyssa who had just clocked in say "happy birthday Carolyn!" to which I responded with a muffled vomiting noise into an emesis bag.

By this point I'm having serious back labor which I find out COULD mean that baby boy is sunny side up. Good news is I'm so uncomfortable I can hardly concentrate enough to stress about that possibility. 9 am rolls around and the ol' cervix is dilated to a measly 6, so this girl is ready for some IV medication. My hopes were high but the only thing that crap did was make me super tired and my contractions a LITTLE better. Each time you take a dose of this it becomes less effective, so sure enough my second dose at 10 am did literally nothing for me...cool.  11 am Alyssa suggests maybe getting in the tub again; sometimes being on the hands and knees with dad holding the water over the lower back has helped her patients. Well that position was in no way more comfortable and had me feeling like a beached whale (just for me, my sweet husband was nothing but positive and reassuring).  That tub time lasted all of 7 minutes before I trash canned that idea.

12 pm comes around and I am just about done. Consistent contractions for 13 hours can seriously wear on the "I can do it with no drugs" mantra. I'm having difficulty breathing through contractions and cannot keep conversation with DJ or my mom. Apparently my dad and in-laws were also in and out but I can honestly not even remember conversing with them.  I ask Alyssa if its to late for the spinal, to which DJs reaction was an "are you sure??" kind of look. I've been saying for weeks how I don't want/need a spinal, women in other countries pop these things out in fields and head back to work that same day!  But in that moment I could not stand one more freaking contraction. Plus, someone worked really hard to invent pain management for labor so it would be rude to not use this contribution to modern medicine. The anesthesiologist got to our suite within 20 minutes or so and gave me the minimum dose they use . Almost immediately my back pain vanished hallelujah thank you Jesus. I could still feel my contractions so he opted to give me a little more so I could "take a nap" (is this dude joking?) But that little extra dose was an actual game changer; we sat and watched my contractions on the monitor while laughing, texting people, and enjoying my birthday in my glamorous hospital gurney. I told everyone I felt too good to take a nap!

Alyssa was working that Monday through Wednesday at the birth center and had even told me to go into labor that week via text to which I responded "good joke, I'll be pregs forever".  Before I was pregnant I had some reservations about one of my closest friends delivering my child, I mean there is a LOT of your body and dignity out there in the delivery room. I had opted to just have DJ in the room while the actual party got started, mostly because I didn't really know what to expect. From the minute she clocked in Alyssa was not only the best nurse but a great additional support system. She is a real "no bullshit" type of person, so when she was telling me I was doing a good job I knew I was doing something right. Truly it was one of the best parts of delivering baby boy. Every step of labor, every situation, every expectation was explained to DJ and me. It's nice being in the care of (not only an educated nurse) but a friend who actually cares for me and my babys well being. One of the perks of living in a town where you were born and raised is having loving people in every corner.

I had my spinal at about 12:30 pm and was dilated to a 6/7. Alyssa had told me that most likely when the spinal wore off it would be time for me to push and sure enough at about 3:45 I started feeling cramping in my tummy (immediate contraction PTSD!)  I labored until about 4:40 before Alyssa told me I was ready to push. After Alyssa called Dr Bradley to have her "casually" make her way to the hospital I began pushing which felt weirdly good. Later, Alyssa told me that after two pushes she made another call to Bradley to tell her to start running some red lights because I was determined to get this baby out! When she arrived she broke my water; not much detail there, I'm pretty much in the zone and trying not to die. With each contraction I pushed and felt like my eyes were literally going to shoot out of my head. DJ stayed above ground zero as we had previously agreed on. Yeah yeah I know I know its "beautiful" and all other things naturally wonderful(which it is in RETROSPECT....not in the moment) but neither he or I needed to see what kind of destruction was happening down there. The nurses asked if I wanted a mirror and I threw up in my mouth even thinking about watching that. I have seen some nasty things working in healthcare, but I draw the line and watching it happen to my own body.  I could not believe how badly it burned when I had one of my final BIG pushes  pushed for his head come out; no "ring of fire" that they tell you about in lamaze...it feels more like "entire crotch engulfed in flames fire".

Before baby boy was out Dr Bradey asked if DJ wanted to cut the cord but plans had to change as soon as his head was out; his cord was wrapped so tightly around his neck that she had to cut it with the rest of his body still in me (that sounds really creepy when I write it out). She was so calm I barely noticed how quick she was about it (thankfully because I tend to overreact in stressful situations). A few seconds later at 5:51 pm a beautiful baby boy placed on my chest. There is literally no words for how crazy, proud, emotional, and excited I was. While simultaneously feeling like I was going to die from exhaustion and pain, there was nothing I wanted more than to just lay there with this little human life on my chest. You mean I've been barfing, bloated, and uncomfortable for the last nine months? Can't seem to recall that while looking at this beautiful alien baby. This little 7 lb 4 oz of human had, just like that, made our lives complete. You never really realize until they are in your arms that you have been waiting your whole life for this baby to be here.  I have had some good birthdays but this one takes the cake for sure (who doesn't want to share a birthday with their cool mom)? One of DJ's first comments in-between his sobbing (so cute) was "he's not as slimy as I thought he was going to be"! That dude makes me laugh even in the craziest situations!

We were unable to decide on baby boys name until the day we left the hospital; I will say we are annoyingly indecisive as it is but naming a human was HARD. Not wanting to leave the hospital with little no name baby we landed on what our hearts felt to be a fitting name for our blonde haired blue eyed boy; Nash James Anthony Reel.