Phillip's Baby Blessing

 I am really behind the times here because Phillip's blessing was on March 1st...almost a month ago. So basically, half his life ago.  But I wanted to get this post up since writing in my journal has fallen by the wayside and I also wanted to get some pictures up.

Phillip's blessing weekend was really great.  My Dad flew in from Oregon and got to meet Phillip for the first time (too bad he didn't have any tricks yet...boring newborn ha) and we had a lot of family time, visiting and playing games with my siblings.  And eating a lot of delicious junk food. Ice cream and donuts will always be my favorite food. Sigh.

We had Phillip's blessing at the church on a Saturday because we liked the idea of just having friends and family there and not making everyone sit through an entire sacrament meeting just for the blessing.  It was a much more intimate setting and then we ate food and visited afterwards, all without having to caravan to someones cramped home.

Felipe's mom and her husband came from Idaho and were a huge help with getting everything set up.  They also brought Pastel de choclo to share, which is delicious. Also, don't be tricked.  Pastel de choclo is NOT chocolate cake, as my fantastic spanish skills led me to believe.  It's a bit like shepherd's pie. But still, delicious.

Those in the circle for Phillip's blessing were my dad, my uncle Jon, our brother in law Damon, Claude, Tavi, and my grandpa, with Felipe acting as voice.  An LDS baby blessing is a bit comparable to a Christening, but we believe that a child isn't accountable enough to be baptized until age 8, so we don't practice infant baptism.  Instead, infants are given a blessing and their name is made official for the records of the church.  I really wish we had recorded the blessing, but I didn't even think about that.  Rats.

With Felipe's Mom

I just love his teeny tie.  I fed him right as we got to the church,
so he was a bit milk drunk the whole time ha.

All the babies! My grandpa holding his two great grandchildren.

My dad and Phillip

Bathtime!

We didn't bathe Phillip for a while because there really wasn't much point and for the first couple of weeks I was just trying to keep myself and him alive.  He's a stoic little guy but seemed to enjoy his first bath and now will smile during them.  He is a super chill baby and is happy pretty much everywhere.

                                                             First bath: February 16

So content after his next bath: February 18

Bath time video we made to send to Felipe at work: March 4

Don't worry that my voice gets angry when I talk to the cat ha.

Bath time smiles!  March 10

                                                 My child may be the spawn of Jabba the Hut

He filled the tub with poop right after this picture haha.

All in all, bath time is a success and he doesn't even mind when the water gets in his eyes.  I have the feeling he'd be content to sit in there all day, as long as there's boob service.

Phillip's Birth Story (Part 2)

We checked into the laboring room at American Fork hospital around 4 am and Phillip was born at 11:22 am, after almost three hours of pushing, so from 4 am to about 8 I just labored as best I could. Felipe and Carrie were my champions.  They were amazing. I can't imagine giving birth without them. If you are on the fence about getting a doula, DO IT. She knew exactly what I needed when I needed it and just did it.  A heating pad on my back? Check.  Cool washcloth on my forehead? Check again. Some nice citrus bliss oil to smell? Encouraging words? A steady hand? Check, check, check. She was such a blessing to have and I really value the friendship.  She stayed with me almost that whole first day after Phillip was born, answering questions, helping me breastfeed, etc. I can not praise her enough. And then Felipe; just amazing.  A whole new part of him was born that day, too. Labor and delivery brought us closer together as nothing else ever has. He was at my side every minute of labor, pushing, and delivering. He was my rock. He would hold me and talk to me and told me every step of the way that I could do this. He never let me give up (and I tried to, very many times). He told me over and over how strong I was and how amazing I was.  And he didn't get mad at me when I got mad at him for reminding me I didn't want an epidural ha.  And he let me practically rip out his hair when I was finally pushing. There were many times when I was laboring in the tub where I would just give up mid contraction and start panicking, stop breathing, and start crying and he talked me through every single one. At one point Carrie suggested he give me a blessing and he did, right there.  I was on hands and knees in the tub, my butt flashing everyone, ready to give up (again) and Felipe gave me a blessing.  I don't remember what he said and I didn't make it through the whole blessing before having another contraction, but just the fact that he was there and could offer me that strength and comfort made a difference.  Labor was very much a mind game.  There were periods where I handled it like a champ, and there were periods where I just broke down and cried and didn't think I could possibly handle another contraction.  Sometimes, when I could feel a new contraction start I just wanted to run and hide where it could never find me.

Eventually I moved from the tub to the bed and was ready to start pushing.  Before labor I had always thought I'd like to squat for pushing but by the time my body was ready I was so exhausted.  I had labored all night and was tired and worn down from the pain and didn't want to be anywhere but lying on my side in that bed, wanting it all to be over. Laying down during contractions is PAINFUL. I had to reach deep inside of me a few times in order to keep going.  But I knew I didn't have any other options.  That baby needed to come out, so I just kept going. Pushing took almost 3 hours and they finally realized it was because I had a thin lip of cervix there, blocking things.  Either the midwife moved it herself or it just went away, I can't remember. But eventually I started making progress with pushing.  I expected to groan and strain and squeeze my eyes shut tight, but I didn't expect the intense pressure and pain on my hips.  That was the worst part of pushing.  Carrie and Felipe would massage my hips between contractions, Carrie a calm, quiet presence, and Felipe whispering encouraging words. There was one point where I was pushing and wanted to give up (yet again) and I just looked at Felipe and asked him to help me. Please, help me. Help this be over.  He said that was one of the hardest parts for him, seeing me in that pain and asking him to help me and there being nothing he could do. I saw him tear up and start to cry a little, and then I closed my eyes again and went back to making it through this beast of a thing called giving birth.

Carrie and the midwife were eventually able to convince me to change positions and they brought in a birthing bar for me.  Carrie and Felipe would put counter pressure on my legs and I would pull on a rope during each contraction and that's when things got real.  They brought in a mirror for me to see (which I didn't really want and had my eyes closed the whole time anyways, so it didn't do much good) and that just made it so Felipe had to watch the deed of the baby being born, something he didn't really want to see (who can blame him?!).  Having the mirror there was also discouraging.  Pushing is two steps forward, one step back.  I'd give a couple giant pushes each contraction and Phillip would descend a little, then move back again.  When the midwife and nurse would get excited when seeing the head and would tell me to look, all I saw was a teeny tiny hole with a little blob that would show for a second, then go back into my body.  So disheartening! I felt like I'd never get him out. And by this point Phillip had started moving around and kicking me from the inside, so that was great too.

After pushing with the bar for a little bit they saw that there was a sac of water between me and the baby's head so they asked me if I'd like them to break it in the hopes it would help Phillip come out sooner.  I really didn't care about the giant crochet hook looking thing they used to pop it, I just wanted him out. At one point while I was pushing I saw Felipe have a weird reaction and look on his face.  I semi wondered what it meant but at the same time didn't want to know because I guessed he saw me tear and I didn't want to know if it had really happened.  Turns out, Phillip's head was so big that he started ripping me up before even coming out and I had an internal tear.  What Felipe saw was a gush of blood from that rip. Phillip's head didn't mold at all on the way out, which made for a nice looking baby, but made pushing him out harder.

I can't describe what it was like to finally push out my child. Painful, surreal, exhilarating, empowering, exhausting...all those things and more. Spiritual, even.  After years of trying, months of preparing, and hours of pain, he was finally ready to be here. Pushing seemed to come from deep within my butt. In the moment, I was surprised at how much pressure I was feeling in my butt area.  I really kinda felt like I was having a gigantic poop. But the time came for his head to come out and every bone in my body yelled that I needed to push push push! And the pushing became so easy and fluid and natural, then the midwife told me to stop. Stop pushing! Just give little teeny pushes, super soft and easy. Everybody listen.  Next time you have a giant poop, try holding it in just as it starts coming out. Impossible! But I knew she wanted me to do that so I wouldn't tear, and I certainly didn't want to tear, so little teeny pushes it was. Once the head was out, everything happened so fast.  At some point somebody told me to reach down and grab my baby, and I did.  No questions asked. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was so surreal.  One moment, I was pushing for all I was worth...then not pushing, then my child was on my chest. I just grabbed him and pulled him up and laid him on my chest.  My beautiful, chunky boy. I just kept saying "my son, my son" and had tears streaming down my face, and Felipe had tears streaming down his face, and Carrie was teary eyed too and it was just an amazing experience.  Felipe and I just looked at each other, our boy in my arms, and our relationship deepened in a way that I didn't think was possible. Such pure love was in that room. Carrie had been playing music quietly in the background the whole time and at the moment I first held my boy the hymn "I know that my Redeemer Lives" came on the pandora station, and it was just perfect.

They asked me before hand what we did and didn't want done when the boy was finally born and what we did want was delayed cord clamping, so after holding my baby for a few minutes they asked Felipe to cut the cord, which he did (although he hadn't been planning on it) and they eventually took Phillip to weigh him and put a diaper on him.  They did this right by my bed, which I was grateful for.  He barely even cried, that boy.  He just silently looked around.  I just stared at his chunky arms and thighs and marveled that he was my son.  He also wanted to nurse right away and latched right on, Carrie guiding me the whole time because I had no idea what I was doing.

I apparently lost a lot of blood and had ended up tearing externally, too, anyways, so while I was holding Phillip there were two midwives stitching me up and a nurse gave me a shot of pitocin and somebody else started kneading my stomach.  That was THE WORST.  And they did it multiple times right after birth, then every hour for the next while.  I hated it. I asked how many stitches they were giving me and the midwife just smiled and said it didn't really matter-not many.  Which kind of annoyed me but I was too busy with my baby to really push the matter.  I did wince from the stitches and they said there was no point numbing me.  I guess I shouldn't complain about the pain of the needle stitching me up after going through the pain of birth, but I really didn't like that either. Eventually they took Phillip to the nursery to bathe and do a hearing check, apgar test, etc, and Felipe went with him.

They had a hard time with my heartbeat being so high and losing blood etc but eventually left me and Carrie alone in the delivery room and every time an alarm would go off on the machine we would just silence it ourselves...shhh don't tell.  They brought me snacks to take Ibuprofen with and I ordered lunch and I just sat in bed and ate and visited with Carrie while Felipe and Phillip were away in the nursery. Back when we were all still in the delivery room Felipe was holding the baby and we were going over different names we had thought about.  When Felipe said "Phillip James" Phillip made a little cooing sound and we took that as a sign that he liked that name haha.  It was a nice coincidence, but he really didn't look like any other name we had thought of.  He looked just like a Phillip.

Eventually a nurse came and moved me to mother baby and Carrie and I visited until they FINALLY brought my baby back. We stayed in the hospital until the next day. Beforehand I had wanted to leave the hospital a couple hours after birth but my body was not having that. I couldn't move myself at all, my hip hurt so bad. I couldn't believe what I had done to myself and couldn't picture having a normal, functioning body again. I could feel blood flowing out of me every time I moved, and sneezing was torture. I was surprised at how painful peeing was and refused to think about my next poop. They also had to change my sheets because blood soaked through my pad, hospital diaper, and the puppy training pad they have you lie on. The second time I peed, I passed out. Thankfully Felipe was there to catch me.  I just felt like a gross, helpless mess.  And on top of it all I was now responsible for this completely helpless being.

Things got better, though.  I can handle the bathroom all by myself now, thank you.  And we're adjusting to being a family of three. It was really hard at first.  I had no idea how hard having a baby would be.  Labor and delivery was easy compared to the recovery and adjusting. It took a couple days at home before I could stand up long enough to brush my teeth.  And showering was a marathon.  I don't think recovery would have been as bad if I hadn't lost as much blood, but I did it.  And Felipe did it. He has been simply amazing. If we can get our baby to sleep better at night then I will have this mom thing down pat haha :)

Ps: If anybody is wondering, I did not poo on the delivery bed. Success! Also, some of these pictures may be too much for some people.  Sorry! But you know, birth happens. It's ok.

Phillip's Birth Story (Part one)

In honor of Phillip being a month old and having had his baby blessing last week, I figured it was high time I wrote his birth story.  So here it is, in all it's glory. If reading about giant bodies coming out of tiny holes (and everything that goes along with it) isn't your thing, then you probably ought to skip this post.

January 27-
     I stayed awake after Felipe left for work, which I've regretted ever since.  If only I had known that was my last day EVER to sleep in! Oh well. I just spent the day doing things that I wanted done before the baby was born and right before 3 pm I was loading books onto the bookshelf when I felt some fluid come out.  And you know, that's really not that abnormal when you're pregnant (which is fun...) but this felt different to me.  I went to the bathroom and decided to change my underwear when I started seriously leaking, enough to make a few little bloody puddles on the floor.  My brain told me that my water had probably broken, but I couldn't get my body to do anything about it.  I just stood there, half naked, staring at the puddles on the bathroom floor and thinking 'huh, guess my water broke or something.  Guess I'm really going to have a baby. Weird." I never really expected my water to break before labor.  I had read that it's actually not really common for a pregnant woman's water to break at the beginning of labor so I just assumed I'd be the same.  I don't know if it's not common because that's how women's bodies are or if the statistics are just skewed because of all the women who are induced or have scheduled c-sections because obviously their water wouldn't break spontaneously.  But regardless, I was surprised it had happened to me.  I decided to call Felipe and let him know what was going on.  We were both so clueless! I feel like looking back and realizing we were clueless is going to be a common theme for parenting. He asked if he should come home but I felt like it was pointless since I wasn't having contractions yet and didn't know how long before actual labor would kick in.  We decided I should call our doula Carrie and see what she thought and then go from there.  I wanted to talk to my sister first but she didn't answer so I called Carrie and told her what was going on.  She said it sounded like my water had broken and that I had a high break so liquid would keep coming out when the baby or I would move and she suggested I try and get some sleep and call her back when things started picking up. I understood that it was good advice to sleep but really?! The day had finally come! Sleep was impossible. So I put on one of those fancy Depends so I wouldn't get fluid all over my house and chatted on the phone with my sister until Felipe got home from work.  I decided not to call the midwives because I didn't want to get on their radar and start the countdown from my water breaking to when I would' die a horrible death from an infection if I didn't check into the hospital' drama.  I didn't want to be pressured into anything and I definitely didn't want to be at the hospital if I hadn't started contractions because I didn't want to be induced or have labor augmented if it could be avoided.

Felipe and I just did our thing all evening and imagined what it would be like to hold our baby and then also watched Frozen.  That movie will always make me think of the night before labor.  We went to bed around midnight and while Felipe was able to fall asleep I just laid there. Then at 12:40 am January 28-BAM-my first contraction. It was intense enough that I couldn't stay in bed.  I was partly excited that things were finally happening but mostly I was just thinking that that was kind of painful and not my favorite thing.  After just a few contractions they were intense enough that I woke up Felipe.  We walked around the house for a bit then I took a hot bath while Felipe timed contractions and played pump up music for me.  Pretty much the whole time I was in labor the contractions were only about 2 minutes apart and super intense.  I was surprised about that because I was expecting more of a build up, but your body just does what your body does.

I called Carrie around 3 am and she came over to help with laboring.  By the time she got here I couldn't do anything during a contraction but just focus on getting through it.  When a contraction was coming Felipe would come hug me from the front and I'd lean on him and Carrie would come from behind and put counter pressure on my hips, then we'd all go back to chatting until the next one would hit. At this point I was still getting instant relief at the end of each contraction, which was nice.  Later on it just felt like I was having one giant contraction that was going on for hours. So that was fun.  My contractions were intense enough when Carrie got here that she said her guess was that I was already in transition.  I loved hearing that! I thought yeah! Piece of cake! I can totally do this! Fast forward to when we've checked into the hospital and they tell me I'm still only a four.  Yup.  Instant demand for an epidural.

The short car ride from our house to American Fork hospital was a beast.  I only had two contractions in the car but any inhibitions I had previously had were out the window.  I hadn't made it to the hospital yet and I was already all about screaming and grunting and moaning. I learned how primal giving birth really is.  Every birth is different, but in my case once I just turned things over to my body and trusted it to get me through this, my mind was able to take a backseat.  It was really all instinct.  And I was able to retreat into myself and just let my body go.  Before labor I had really worried about staying modest and was worried that I would be too inhibited to make the sounds and go through the motions that I knew would help my body open up and give birth.  But nope! During labor, all those inhibitions left, too. I could have walked around the hospital naked without caring, as long as it got that darn baby out. I was almost naked for most of labor, in and out of the tub, swaying, laying on the bed. Everybody got a beautiful view of my rear end and I really didn't care. I also spent every contraction moaning or mooing like a cow.  It. Just. Happens. By the time I gave birth my voice was shot. Part of my mind wondered if my hospital neighbors could hear me and that same part wondered if maybe I ought to be embarrassed but it was quickly hushed by the next contraction.

Checking into the hospital was a pain.  A literal pain. I really wanted to have a home birth or at least give birth at a birthing center but we ended up planning on AF hospital.  We had gone the weekend before to pre register so I wouldn't have to do that during labor, and the whole time I was just so disappointed that I would be giving birth there. It seemed so clinical and impersonal and sterile.  I felt like the white walls and shiny floors were just yelling at me that something was wrong with me and that my body couldn't give birth and I had to be admitted with all the sick and dying people in order to properly give birth. I trusted my body to do this and I wanted the world to trust it, too. (Caveat: I'm not trying to say any way of giving birth is better than another.  I just knew what I wanted and how I felt. By all means, give birth whatever way you want!)  Checking in the night of D-day I still had papers to sign and questions to answer before they took me to a room. I had hoped to avoid this by pre registering but oh well.  My contractions were really close together so I was able to answer one question or sign one paper before we'd all have to wait for the next contraction to pass. I just wanted to give birth and be done with that place and the meanies were making me sign things and answer questions that I absolutely remember nothing about. Eventually that was done and I changed into a gown for them to check me. Honestly, being checked was one of my least favorite things about it all.  So painful! Then when they learned that my water had already broken the nurse said they hadn't had to check me and should have been able to just check me into a room.  Grr.  I also got a little gruff for not calling the midwives when my water broke, but oh well.  I was about to push a baby out of me.  I could handle some gruff.

It's taken me a week to get this first half written (I had to edit my first line accordingly) so I'm just going to publish this part now so it can get out there. Hopefully part 2 will be forthcoming!

Getting Closer

I'm seven months pregnant today, and it's so odd to be in a place that I've dreamed about and longed for for so long. I love this boy so much already and I love that he is mine and I love that he is Felipe's and I love that there will never be another person just like him, even if Felipe and I made 100 babies. And I'm getting so antsy for him to be born.  I want to hold him and squeeze him and kiss his little cheeks and pinch his chubby thighs and just marvel in the miracle of his existence.  I feel like I'm the first person in the world to have ever been in love.  And I just love having this little buddy with me all day. I love feeling him move and complaining to him about his constant squirming.  And I love the terror I feel about squeezing his massive body out of my tiny down-under. And I love it all because he is my child and Felipe's child and we get to raise him and love him together. A family is such an amazing, sacred thing and the more I digest the important role Felipe and I will play as parents, the more I understand why Satan is working so hard to break families down. I know it's not going to be all fun and roses and I'm so nervous that I'll fail him as a mother, but there is so much joy in being a family, and things don't have to be easy for them to bring you joy.

On to other matters, here's a riddle for you that I just accept but really blows Felipe's mind: I'm considered seven months pregnant today, am due three months from last Tuesday, but won't actually be physically pregnant for nine months until February 1st, even though I'm due January 22.  Who said that women are pregnant for nine months? I'll be considered full term at 37 weeks on January 1st, but will have been actually pregnant for only and exactly 8 months on that day.  No wonder babies are never born on their due dates; we keep changing the dates on them and I think they just don't know when to come out. Depending on how you calculate it, a full term woman is pregnant anywhere from 8-10 months (I'll take the 8, thank you).

I know it's been two long months since my last post and a lot has changed.  Number one change is these darn fake contractions. If I had to guess, I'd say this baby is going to come early (which would be ok with us).  Any time I walk around for more than a few minutes (for example: grocery shopping) Braxton-Hicks comes calling. I never get them sitting down so it's a good thing I have a desk job. I guess it's ok I'm getting a lot of these contractions now because I only plan on having a handful of real contractions during labor before baby comes out...wouldn't that be nice?

The newest development is regarding insurance. Bleh! I'm still on my Dad's insurance, which has been great, but I turn 26 in a week and a half and reach the age where one is suppose to be independent insurance-wise. With all the fancy fertility bills (which we'll still be making payments on after baby is actually born, hopefully his cute face will make it easier to send off those checks) I've already hit my deductible for the year. It seemed like a bit of a mean trick for baby to be due just a few months after my insurance ran out and I'd have to switch to Felipe's and start over on the deductible.  However, I just learned that my Dad's insurance will cover me until Jan 1 2014.  Just 22 days stand between paying a butt load for the birth and paying a comparative pittance.  22 days! I'd much rather not be making concurrent payments for the child's conception and birth so fingers crossed for a December 30th baby! Yes, yes, of course his health is most important. But if he's going to be just as healthy at 37 weeks as he will be at 40, I'll take the 37 weeks and save that money.  Especially since we'll be going down to one income when the baby's born and I quit my job (which is stressful in and of itself).

All in all, this pregnancy is going great.  We're getting ready to paint his room, all of his beautiful little socks are in his drawer waiting for him, and the baby shower is under way.  Here's to smooth sailing from here on out!

Spotting is Scary

One of my biggest fears is that I will become a hypochondriac; don't worry about the logic behind a fear of becoming overly fearful.  More accurately, I'm afraid people will view me as a hypochondriac. On Monday I was at work when I realized I had started spotting.  Of course my first concern was about the baby and then I was concerned about what the clinic would think about me if I called in and asked them if this was normal.  I also don't like people knowing that sometimes I just don't know things.  I was pretty sure I shouldn't be concerned but of course I was still scared because this is my first time and I really don't know anything.  I clocked out of work and went outside to call the clinic (because I'm sure my coworkers did not want to hear about the blood on my underwear...odd) and the secretary told me the nurse would call me right back. And then I waited for 40 minutes, which was great. I haven't bled at all my entire pregnancy, not even really any implantation spotting.  The nurse told me it was probably fine but I could go in to check the baby if I wanted.  Since she wasn't concerned I convinced myself that I wasn't either, and decided to wait until my appt on Wednesday. And then I called Felipe but he was teaching a class and couldn't answer.  I was a little glad he didn't answer because I'm sure I would have burst into tears.  Sometimes being scared is hard. And then I went back to work and acted normal and pretended I wasn't secretly going to the bathroom every five minutes to check my pants.  Oh son, why do you have to worry me already?  This really was not a big deal and I have been so blessed in this pregnancy to be really healthy. And I think this was really hardest for Felipe because he was teaching a class and trying to surreptitiously text me at the same time and just so worried.  I was sorry to have worried him but it was so sweet to see his concern.

I did have my regularly scheduled appointment with a midwife yesterday (which was not a great visit, but for other reasons) and the baby's heartbeat was great.  And no spotting since.  Hopefully that was a one time fluke.  I also secretly think that the clinic didn't believe me when I told them we hadn't had sex in the last few days.  That was the first question both the nurse on Monday and then the midwife on Wednesday asked me and when I answered no they both paused a minute and then said something along the lines of "well, it's really common to have a little bleeding after intercourse, so I wouldn't be concerned".  It is just so great not to be believed.  But baby is fine and that's what's important.  Let's keep the scary things in the past!

A Boy's Story is the Best That is Ever Told

I know my blog is behind the times and most everybody knows that we are having a boy, but I love my boy and I love his story so I wanted a post just for announcing and re announcing and then proclaiming: We are having a son! The title of this post is a quote from Charles Dickens and the sexism slightly grates on me but I will send it to the back of my mind and just enjoy it.  Some of Dickens' books I can't stand.  I have tried so many times to read Hard Times and just can't get through it.  Oliver Twist made me so emotionally distraught that I ended up throwing the book across the room...and then picking it up again and reading the last chapter just so I knew it would end up ok.  But Great Expectations is one of my favorite books and I thought it fitting to use a Dickens quote for the title since we are (most likely) naming our son Phillip. Phillip is after Felipe, not after a neglected and abused little boy, but I still like the idea that one of my favorite books is being embodied through something that we created.

We had the gender check on the last day of my 15th week.  I was nervous that it would be too early to see anything but the ultrasound was beautiful.  The baby was relaxing the whole time with his legs propped up and his arms behind his head and when the tech showed us his little weiner Felipe and I both teared up.  We also saw the heart pumping blood and could see his little developing brain.  We have the ability to create another human body with our own human bodies and I don't think this gets the fanfare and respect it deserves.  When I stop to think about it it awes me.  We are thrilled to be having a boy, but I was still a little sad for the girl who could have been.  I think I would have felt the same way either way.

We had the gender check in the middle of my family reunion so we were able to announce to almost the whole family at the same time what we were having.  I had prepared a bunch of craft sticks before hand with mustaches and bows at the top and then colored the bottom tips green, which were then hidden in little pebbles. On the count of three everybody drew a stick and they all found out together.  A son!  Felipe is already talking about when he can watch soccer games with him and I just love it.  e. e. cummings wrote that "the world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful" and that is the world that I cannot wait to introduce to my son.

That mark by his leg is his umbilical cord, not his man part.
Don't be alarmed.

I cannot make things look cute, but that doesn't
stop me from having a good time trying!