Green bean peace offering

Okay, family will most likely get the biggest kick out of these clips but we thought the first meeting of the sisters on the day Scarlett was born was worthy to document. Some of the things I love about the videos: Lucy prying Scarlett's fingers open to deliver the green bean, how many times my mom says to Lucy, "Don't bend her arm back," (even more in the unedited/uncut version), Lucy's maniacal laughter in the second clip and how she sorta reminds me of Elmyra Duff from Tiny Toons...

and I especially love Jason's smitten-ness over his girls...you can just hear the love in his voice. :)

Baby stuff and hormone stuff and more

It's 6:45 AM. Been up since about 5 nursing baby girl and couldn't fall back asleep. She is a great eater, just like her mother. In fact, I'm sitting here at the computer shoving a huge chocolate chip cookie down my gullet, and a huge glass of milk. Wish it was whole milk. And I just noticed a big glob of chocolate that somehow managed itself onto the computer mouse, and I've been smearing it all over it. Maybe I'll smear it around on my face for added affect. Jason brought the cookie home for me last night but I didn't have the energy to eat it. I was off to bed and he told me I was an ingrate, considering I just left the gift he brought me on the counter in it's lonely little Paradise Bakery bag. We went back and forth a little, me pleading with him not to eat it, him telling me he was gonna eat it as soon as I was in bed, me protesting, "I really want to eat it tomorrow!" Him saying, "Forget about it, it's over". So you can imagine my delight upon stumbling into the kitchen at the crack of dawn and spying it still sitting in it's little baggy. What a good chap I married.

Scarlett is one week old today. She is feeling like one of the family now. She really is. It's odd how for the first few days you just look at their little faces in awe and think, "Who is this little stranger??" I told my mom, weeping and snotting all over the place in an exhausted heap, that I felt like I was Scarlett's mother, and like I was Lucy's mother, but not both at the same time. Like those two worlds were totally separate and had not meshed yet. I guess I've been feeling guilty because I missed Lucy so much while we were in the hospital and then as soon as we got home she stressed me out so much that I just wanted to put her to bed immediately. Then once she'd been put to bed I cried some more from missing her again. She's mostly been stressing me out trying to give Scarlett tickle torture after tickle torture, (her tickle tortures consist of unintentionally scratching up skin of recipient) or trying to poke her eyes out because she wants her eyes open, or trying to touch her not fully healed belly button. So mother bear takes over and Lucy becomes the hunter in the forest after my cub. And I've had to roar and grunt a little, occasionally swiping with my paw. Not to inflict pain, just to shoo away. Then I remember Lucy is also my cub, and I shouldn't be swiping and shooing so much. So I've been weepy this week. But it's getting better. I can feel the worlds coming together, where I can be the mother of both wee little lasses at the same time. Hopefully a good mother at that.

I'm really hormonal. At least it's steadily been getting a little better. Do I talk about hormones a lot? It's just that being a woman has some really fun perks; pregnancy hormones, post baby hormones, PMSing... overall it's just a really fun package. Jason went up to the Jazz play-off game last Friday night. I'd already told him I thought it would be okay because my mom is here even when he said he didn't really care that much and if I didn't want him to go he would stay home. I thought it would be good for him to get out because he'd been working from home a lot the days leading up to baby and the days after. And he's been cleaning the kitchen and being a peach. So he brought the game up again after we'd already discussed it and I flew off the handle. "Don't you remember I said, 'It will probably be okay'?! 'We'll see how I'm feeling on Friday'?!?' Don't you remember that stipulation?? I just thought you'd be able to see for yourself I'm not feeling okay and that you wouldn't even bring it up!! But I have to tell you everything!" He said it was fine, mentioning something about the games not being as fun anyway because I'm not as into it this year as in the past. And if I was gonna be all mad about it, he wouldn't go. And strangely, that made me much more fiery hot with anger. Somehow, it just wasn't the right thing to say. "So, just to keep me from being mad you'll stay? There's nothing else that would compel you to stay, huh?! How 'bout the fact that I birthed our second child 2 days ago?" And then I got up and while exiting the room told him to go, that he'd sacrificed way too much fun and freedom already that week. A little later I decided I really honestly didn't care if he went, and he skipped around like a little puppy dog who needed to go potty and was finally being let outside. I didn't let him out though without reminding him how freaking cool his wife is.

Last night I also told Jason I wanted to break up. Not a divorce, but a break up. I was listening to some sappy music the other day and feeling all dramatic and actually missing going through break ups, even though they were the absolute worst. Remember the days when you used to go for a drive and BLARE Incubus or Coldplay or Dashboard and bawl your eyes out because you just didn't know how you could get through it? And you'd have all-night bawl sessions with roommates and order pizza and become a total recluse and hate the world? So I told him I might have to start seeing someone on the side, nothing serious but just a few dates so then I could break up with him. Jason said, "Maybe you could have him over for a movie night or something." I initially thought that might be okay. We tried to work out the details but it wasn't really flowing, so he and I just decided we would leave other people completely out of it, we would continue to live together and raise our babies together, he would continue to financially and emotionally support me and I'd continue to cook and clean for him and counsel with him about work challenges, but we decided we were better off as just friends. Eventually, maybe we'd become friends with benefits (after a full recovery) but that for now we didn't want any of the romance stuff to ruin our friendship. So I'll let you know how that goes for us. Hopefully he'll come running back to me and tell me he wants it all or nothin' and that being my friend will never be good enough. He'll hopefully say it's been eating him up inside and he can't sleep or eat because of it. And then we'll suddenly run towards each other and clumsily start making out and agree to take it past friendship again. And we'll have butterflies. But I probably won't give in right away. I mean, even after I let him make out with me, he'll have to work for it. (Hubby just read this and said, "You know some people will read this and won't get it at all. They'll take you literally and think you're being serious." I normally refuse to say, "just kidding," because really? Do I honestly have to clarify that we weren't seriously contemplating a boyfriend on the side for me? And that Jason wasn't being serious when he said to invite him over for a movie night? That weirds me out, people.)

I have the sweetest little girls in existence. Scarlett has been an absolute angel. She is so outrageously sweet. And now I am listening to Jason watch Super Why with Lucy, and he is singing along with the song, word for word. Moments hit me when I think my heart just might burst out of my chest. Overall, I think we are transitioning really well. Yes. The two worlds are starting to become one. I'll let you know how it goes when my mom leaves. Not a happy thought. (Pray the Jazz are out of the play-offs by then.)

The Scoop

The week leading up to Scarlett's birthday I had been having "fake labor" contractions (whatever that means) and was frustrated with all the psyching out that was happening. Every time they'd increase in intensity, we'd start to time them and they'd choke on us. I had to tell Jason and my mom to stop asking when my last contraction was because I was finding myself resisting the urge to lie about them, like I was somehow letting everyone down by saying "not for a while," (as if anyone was more eager for the moment to arrive than I was). But Tuesday I woke up feeling a little more chipper for some reason. I woke up with an extra hop in my waddle that morning. I got out of bed early and got into the bath. I actually washed my hair, did my make-up and got all ready for the day. I even shaved my armpits. (All of these things considered shocking behavior during pregnancy. Normally deemed downright offensive.)

I got on my knees and said my morning prayers. For the first time I actually petitioned to the Lord, "I really really want to have this baby now. Heavenly Father, can I please go into labor today?" I ended up apologizing shortly after because I was still a week away from my due date and thought maybe it was hasty and impatient of me. I ended up telling Him I felt silly for asking for that because there were so many people in the world who were praying for deliverance from real tribulation, needing real help, when I was here just feeling super hormonal and achy and uncomfortable. Then I told him the reasons why I would be okay with it if I stayed pregnant another week just in case He thought that was best. THEN I told him "But I really DO want to go into labor today, so I hope I didn't weaken my request by telling you I feel silly asking for it," and then followed up with, "Forget I said anything about it." (Prayers frequently go like this for me. I often have to apologize for the wandering tangents.) Then I sat spacing out wondering if it was indeed selfish of me to pray to have the baby right then or if it was okay. Then I got hungry for breakfast.

Anyway, around 3:30 that afternoon I started another round of contractions, but didn't think much of it at first so I told no one. When an hour had passed and they were consistently 5 minutes apart, I let Jason and my mom know, and my mom immediately started writing the times down and dancing around our house in jubilation. They were gradually getting more intense so we decided to head to the hospital around 6:30 that evening.

It was about 7 pm when we got all checked in, I got into my prom gown, and the nurse (Leeann was her name) checked me to see how I far dilated I was. I was between 3 and 4 centimeters. She said we would watch the contractions and if I hadn't progressed in an hour that they'd give me a shot of morphine in the hip and probably have to send me home. I knew we were not going home, but had to make LeeAnn think she wore the pants. I hadn't progressed when she checked me again, even though my contractions were really starting to get a lot harder. For some reason when she checked me though, Scarlett's heart rate went way up, so she said they wanted to watch that for a little while before deciding what to do. Scarlett's heartrate stayed in the 180 range for about 45 minutes, we had no idea why, but they when she checked me again I was over 4 centimeters so she said we would stay. Then baby's heartrate went almost immediately back into normal range, and we were in business. She knew she had to put on a little show so mom and dad didn't have to insist that we were serious about having this baby, so that's just what she did.

I got my epidural around 10 pm when I was to 5 centimeters, and my mom and Jason's mom came to the hospital shortly after. Water broke on it's own around 10:30 when I was almost to a 6. 3 hours later, at 1:30, I was to a 10, and a mere 3 pushes later, at 1:51 AM, Scarlett was laying on my chest doing some of that most beautiful newborn hollaring. She didn't cry much though. Just made enough noise to let us know she had arrived. My jaw dropped when they put her on the scale. 8 lbs 10 oz coming a week early was a surprise, doctor had guessed she'd be around a 7 pounder. It did however make me feel less silly about all the stink I was putting up about being ready to have her. Both of my birthing experiences have been supremely spiritual experiences for me. And rightly so, but I guess I forget what this is really all about sometimes in the hustle and bustle of planning for baby. It was humbling and wonderful and life-changing.

(I had to tell Jason to put the camera away during contractions.)

You forget how absolutely angelic having a newby is. Her noises, her smell, her skin, her sneezes and yawns. She is so perfect. I am completely enamored. Jason is over the moon for her as well, even though he felt the need to announce a few days before she was born, "I just have to say Lucy will always be my favorite. I just have to get that out there." Lucy is doing really well so far with everything. She loves pointing at all of her features and telling us what they are. "Eye... mouth...nose." Grammy has been here entertaining her to no end, so I'm sure that's softening the transition.

I am in disbelief that she isn't even 3 days old yet. Time is a strange thing. It still hasn't sunk in completely that we are a family of 4. I feel like I should still be in high school or something. We are loving getting to know her. She is so soft. We are happy and thankful and sleep deprived and so many things. La vida es bella.

Meet Miss Scarlett

Scarlett Marie came into the world at 1:51 AM on April 21, 2010. She came in at 8 pounds, 10 ounces, at 19 1/2 inches! Almost 2 full pounds bigger than her sister. Welcome to the world Scarlett, we are absolutely thrilled to have you.

*Everything went WONDERFUL. Details and many more pictures to follow.*

Thank heaven for this little girl

So, a piece of advice. Don't read into it much if your doctor tells you (or your cervix for that matter), "You'll never make it to your due date," or at your 37 week appointment if he says, "See you at your appt next week... maybe!" (wink wink) Bottom line, he just doesn't really know. His guess is as good as yours. And you shouldn't be feeling like you're overdue when you're still a week away from your due date. It's annoying. You waddle around annoyed, huffing and puffing, and you annoy everyone who has to be around you. I mean I'm not saying I'm annoyed, or annoying. No, no... my husband says I'm still the belle of the ball, pleasantly plump and all. I'm just saying it could be annoying, probably for someone who doesn't have as much perspective and insight as me.

Anyway, Lucy has been especially jubilant lately with the much awaited springing of spring. Haven't we all been? Such a happy soul she is. She warms my heart. I have the biggest crush on her. And I'm so glad we are friends. (And so glad I resemble a rotisserie chicken in this first picture. Ya know, the kind that are all featherless and headless and still dancing a jig? Slather me up in some BBQ sauce and I am good to go! Honestly the first visual that popped into my mind.)

38 weeks

Amy took these pictures for us last week. And looking at the ones with Lucy make me cry. I have been extra weepy lately (ex: yesterday in Sunday school, I was whispering to Jason about something and he told me, "I don't want to talk about it right now, we can another time". I told him he was being judgy and self righteous, and that I never tell him not to talk to me even if it's during sunday school and nothing remotely related to spiritual things. And then I turned and felt the all too familiar sting set in as my eyes welled up with tears. Crying about 3 or 4 times a day as of late.) As I have said before, having this baby makes the reality set in that Lucy is not a baby anymore. I don't want her to grow anymore. I want to freeze time. I've felt like this every day since she was born. I have never wanted the next stage to come. It's always exciting but throughout these past 20 months, I have shed many tears over the arrival of the next stage. I don't ever want her to stop thinking Jason and I are the cat's meow. (I think of those teens out there who think their parents are lame and it just makes me shudder. And then I imagine me trying to convince her of how cool I once was and how I know what's up and then how the desperation would make me a lame mom.) I don't want her to say any more words. Her vocabulary is exploding right now. She has always said, "gaw!" for frog but she isn't saying it anymore because she's realizing she isn't saying it correctly. So gaw is evolving. And I hate it. She says, "wabi," for water and that's the way I want it to stay forever. (Yes that's right, when she's 18 and on a date I prefer that she order a glass of ice-wabi.) But I'll inevitably go into another depression when she actually starts saying the word, "water". I don't want her to ever stop wanting to hold my hand when she is winding down for a nap or bedtime, I don't want her to stop shoving her hand down my shirt to feel the skin on my upper arm for her comfort. I realize that those little quirks probably won't work for her in 15 years, so we've just got to do something to keep her miniature. She is just the perfect size right now for my arms.

I guess I've just been kindof sad for her lately because this new little boo-boo is so close to arriving and I don't want to have to divide my attention. Even though I know the drill, it helps them be socially balanced, helps them learn to adapt, siblings are the greatest thing ever, etc. etc. yada yada yada. Trust me. I know, I'm obsessed with my siblings. It's still just the fact that a huge transition is headed our way and the little dear has no idea it's even coming.

Don't know if my heart can withstand any more of this mother love. I keep being told that it can and it will, just the same with this second tiny girl. But sometimes it feels burdensome to love so much.

P.S. I am 100% effaced, at 3 centimeters, and having lots of fun contractions. So it could be any day now! Doc asked this morning if I wanted my membranes stripped, and I told him not yet. I have a hair appointment on Thursday that we need to make it to. So I'll keep you posted. :)

I am still pregnant!

To play it safe I must assure you that I have not given birth to our daughter yet. And she is not African-American. That would be genetically impossible. I say this because I am continuing through the grapevine to hear aunts and family members and friends are spreading the word, "Did you hear Meradith and Jason had their baby?? I saw it on their blog!" So for the record, I am still pleasantly plump as ever, with the same shooting pains, same bladder deficiency, same grunting and waddling and generally, same furrowed brow upon face.

So, indulge me for just a moment. Let's say Jason has a sister. He has 4 sisters whom I love and adore, but this story is strictly hypothetical. We'll call her... oh I don't know... Toni or something. And for the story's sake, (but remember, totally hypothetical), we'll say she looks something like this: (except, not always with a helmet on).

Heck, let's get creative and throw in that she was Jason's very closet sibling growing up and that they were pretty mischievous together. And let's say she read my last post, (the April fools post), and didn't realize it was a joke until calling another sister and hearing said other sister say (while wondering why Toni wasn't seeing the humor in it), "I didn't know it was a joke until I saw the picture". Let's say up until that point, Toni was still feeling confused and all alone; slighted and hurt that she was hearing the news of the arrival of her new little niece through an internet blog at the same time as many complete strangers. And let's say, in defending herself for believing that the wee lass in the photo she had seen was indeed the genetic product of her very own, very Caucasian brother and sister-in-law, she simply said, "I just thought it was a weird angle." If this happened to you after posting an April fools joke of the nature that I did, you would probably feel the need to follow up as well. Not saying that it did in fact happen, just hypothetically if it did.

Here is a photo of our Lucia 3 hours after coming into the world:

And again, here is a photo of the little sweetheart that I was claiming to be her biological little sister:

Other than a little puffiness, I can't see much resemblance. So I'll say it again. If people (I won't say names) indeed believed this second babe was our biological child, you would feel the need to follow up, also.

We are still anxiously awaiting her arrival. :) Family dear, you will not be hearing about it for the first time on the blog.