But as Oli begins to stand and crawl and babble his heart out, I think it's more than time to post how he came into the world.
On a beautiful day, 11 months ago.
My pregnancy with Olivier was much harder than mine with Lily. Many of you read about it here, so I'll spare you the minute details. When I was 7.5 months pregnant I was put on "light" bed rest and missed my best friend's out-of-province wedding where I was to serve as Maid of Honour, so perhaps more than the average pregnant mama, I wanted him OUT.
If I'm honest, I was beginning to resent the little guy. He had taken some moments from me that I'll never get back. I was dying to
But isn't that parenting, friends?
Before he was born he'd already taught me so much.
With Oli I wasn't expecting an on-time delivery or a late one. Lily was 8 days early, and she was my 1st. And everyone and their brother told me first babies never come early.
Well she did, so I expected her brother to as well. Hopefully even earlier (while still in the realm of healthy, of course!). With thoughts of an early birth coming, at 37.5 weeks we happily drove to the hospital after 12 straight hours of contractions. They weren't painful, but they were by-the-book consistent. 5 minutes apart, lasting for a minute each. FOR THE WHOLE DAY.
Since I wasn't in pain and we didn't have childcare lined up for Lily, we wisely waited them out at home until signs of more imminent labour came (my water breaking, painful contractions, etc). I had a warm bath and did all kinds of relaxing things. I tried to go to sleep, but by 11pm they were still ever-persistent. Eventually we called Erika, our dear friend who loves to go to bed early. She dutifully and lovingly came over, though she was surely in bed already when we called.
And we were off!
We called Brad's brothers on the way to the hospital and asked them what they thought about Olivier's middle name. See, we wanted to name him after one of his uncles, but which one!? We flipped a coin since we love both Mike and Rob equally. Rob won, but graciously (and so typically of Rob), insisted we go with Mike since Mike was older (Brad is the oldest).
We pulled into St. Mary's and I was hooked up to the fetal heart monitor and contraction-counter (does anyone know the real name for that!?)
I was texting with my long-distance girlfriend who conveniently lives in a timezone three hours behind us. At my midnight and her 9pm we chatted away excitedly. Then the two of us realized it was October 17th (Eastern Time). The birthday of her twins! How cool would it be if her children and my son shared a birthday? This was all too perfect.
And then my contractions stopped altogether.
False alarm. Sent home. Discouraged and defeated.
...and it was another week before we were back.