Bragging Rights

I feel that it would be silly of me to brag about all of the mundane milestones that Annabelle has achieved over the past 3 months.  I also think it would be futile to mention all of the reasons why I love being a mom.  It just seems a bit pointless simply because it's everything that everyone told me it would be.  Everyone said that I couldn't possibly understand until I was personally experiencing it and turns out, they were right.  As an active, young married woman, I often wondered, "Why in the world would anyone want to disrupt their lives by having a child?"  And then we did and now I know.  It's like I now belong to some secret club.  The all-knowing mommy club.  And I'm now privilege to some amazing truths, which I had previously believed to only be cliche:

Children bring depth to your life.
It's thrilling to see the world through a child's eyes.
Watching a child blossom is incredibly rewarding.
You never knew that you could love something so much until you are holding your baby.

And I'm certain that there are many more that I have yet to experience.

Oh, and Annabelle is already an over achiever.  She has a tooth at only 3 months old. 

First time at the pool with Aunt Shawna.

Mastering the art of sitting up/propped up.

Looking a bit like Cee Lo.  Too bad her chair doesn't revolve.

Watch me outgrow my rugby bear.  June 1, Annabelle, 3 months old.

Month 2 & Beyond

The month of April saw my first race since having Annabelle.  The Redbud Classic 10k is a true classic in Oklahoma City.  This event is one of the things I have always looked forward to, even when we were living elsewhere and I had to live vicariously through other runners.  I posted a pbpb, you know, a "post-baby personal best" of 9:15 per mile.  Not too shabby for having a 6-week old.  AnnaB and the hubby supported me at the finish line.  What a wonderful show of love!

My turn to reciprocate came at the end of April, when the hubby did the OKC Marathon.  All 26.2 miles of it.  His first full marathon and AnnaB's first time to make posters.

AnnaB and her rockstar daddy after the marathon

In the midst of all of this running, the hubby and I had our first date night, sans baby.  Sushi dinner and the last regular season OKC Thunder game in corporate box seats. AnnaB had her first Easter and I celebrated my first Mother's Day.  From home, we cheered on the OKC Thunder in the NBA playoffs and enjoyed the fine Oklahoma weather.

First date night

Just two cool chicks enjoying the sunshine

Cheering on the home team.  Too bad that this onesie makes her look like a boy!

 I suppose that's what the first year is all about...firsts.  We're looking forward to all of it.

Watch me outgrow my rugby bear - Annabelle, 2 months old, May 1, 2012.

Unsolicited Advice

It's been everything I thought it could be.  Incredible, exhausting, exciting, exhausting, fantastic, exhausting, eye-opening, exhausting, awe-inspiring, exhausting.  How can something so little make your heart ache and soar all at the same time?  All 9 pounds of Annabelle are precious and I love her so much.  It really is amazing that one day this little person, who is a complete stranger, arrives in your life, demands so much and you just suddenly love them, for no real reason at all.  She is perfect in every baby way.

I've tried to keep all of the challenges in perspective and the best tidbit came from my friend Donna, who is a mother of two grown children.  She is a Louisiana native living in Baku.  Donna said,

"Women wear lots of hats - daughter, sister, wife, employee, boss, etc; MOM has always been my favorite.  If I could offer some unsolicited advice...don't wish it all away.  Certain stages of parenthood are more challenging than others and we tend to think, "I can't wait till she sleeps through the night, holds her own bottle, eats table food, sits up, etc,"  Don't.  Enjoy every stage because before you know it, they're walking across the stage at their college graduation ready to take on the world and you're wondering where the time went."

I immediately thanked Donna for making me cry.  And then sincerely thanked her for knowing just the right thing to say at just the right time.   I'm still exhausted, but happily so.

New Born Pics, courtesy Melanie Wright:

Watch me outgrow my rugby bear! Annabelle, 1 month old, April 1, 2012 

Annabelle's Arrival

When we lived in Houston, we had a 5-day advance warning that a  major hurricane was headed our way.  Three days before Hurricane Ike made landfall, meteorologists were predicting its exact path of destruction.  Two days before, the hubby's office closed early so that employees could hurricane-proof their houses, which was the day before my 28th birthday.  We celebrated at a seafood joint, sucking down hurricane cocktails.  The evening before the hurricane's eye moved over us, we enjoyed a pleasant sunset on the patio.  The "calm before the storm" was anxiety-filled, but rather ordinary too.

In such the same way was my labor and delivery.  The day before I was set to check into the hospital, I enjoyed an unusually warm February afternoon on the back porch.  Thinking some color on my face would help me look less chubby, I soaked up some rays.  I was mentally preparing for motherhood and trying to center myself on a "happy place."  All in all, it was a normal day, nothing spectacular.  If I could have only known what was waiting around the corner.

So many highs, so many lows.  The highs included having a new acquaintance (we met when she was taking my bootcamp class this winter) as my delivery nurse.  She was caring and attentive, everything a fantastic nurse should be.  I had a relatively pain-free delivery.  Praise God for drugs.  The hubby was wonderful and my family was ecstatic, even though they had to wait outside the room for quite a while.  And then the lowest of lows, shortly after sweet Annabelle's arrival, the on-call pediatrician decided that she needed to be transferred to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit downtown because her shortness of breath indicated that her lungs were slightly undeveloped.  Thus, the longest, roughest, toughest week of our lives began.

Not only was she moved to a more capable hospital, but also, they sent a helicopter to transport her.  Traumatic, yes.  Dramatic, yes.  It's only a 15 minute drive by ambulance, but apparently, they wanted to make this as complicated as possible.  Annabelle was put on oxygen and packaged into a horrific looking box, suitable for NASA missions.  We were not allowed to fly with her.  The hubby kissed me good-bye and met Medi Flight once they landed.  I was stuck sobbing in my hospital bed for the remainder of the evening.

The NICU is an excellent care center for babies.  Not so much for families, and especially horrible for nursing mothers.  My doctor had released me exactly 14 hours after delivery so that I could be at the downtown hospital with Annabelle.  She was sharing a room with another baby, which meant we were sharing a room with another set of parents.  The doctors were never overly concerned with Annabelle's health.  It wasn't a question of if she could get better, just a question of when.  She was on supplemental oxygen for 5 days and it took another 3 days to remove the feeding tube.  Around the clock, we were by her side.  It's heart wrenching to watch your baby tethered to sensors of every kind.  We were finally discharged sans sensors and with an excellent prognosis.  We were simply given strict instructions to follow-up with our pediatrician after the weekend.

After a much-needed couple of nights sleeping in our own bed, even if it was for only a brief few hours, we felt rejuvenated, ready to tackle the world of parenthood.   We snuggled with our precious bundle of joy.  And appreciated her so much more.  I had had it too easy, I suppose.  This was fate's way of making sure that I didn't take anything for granted.  And each day that I get to sit and stare at her jaundice-tinted skin, I just smile and thank my lucky stars that we are where we are today.

Kyle & Annabelle:  Proud papa before they whisked her away

Annabelle prepared for her Medi Flight

Bundled up in the NICU

Finally eating from a bottle

On our way home!

Miss Annabelle

Anyone's Guess

It was bound to happen.  My doctor has restricted my exercise to walking only.  WALKING ONLY!  I won't bore/gore you with the details, but the baby could arrive any day now and there's still 6 days left to be considered a full-term pregnancy, so WALKING ONLY.  My 2 kickboxing, 1 cycle and 1 boot camp classes are being covered by non-pregnant instructors and tennis has been put on an indefinite hold.  The dogs and I have been taking lazy strolls around our neighborhood.  The Oklahoma weather has been uncharacteristically warm for February and my running shoes are calling for me to lace up.  But, I have my eye on the prize - a healthy baby, so I'm WALKING ONLY.

The problem is that since my schedule has been reluctantly cleared, I now have waaaay to much free time to contemplate the impending transition into motherhood.  I'm anxious, scared, worried, excited, did I mention scared?  So much is about to change.  Am I ready for this?  I wouldn't say that I've enjoyed pregnancy, but I haven't minded it either.  My favorite thing is feeling her kick and turn and hiccup.  It's been pretty amazing.

It's anyone's guess as to when Annabelle will make her grand appearance.  My hair was recently hi-lighted, my toes were treated to a pedi and a couple of hours in the sunshine rouged my cheeks.  I've bathed the dogs, dusted the ceiling fans and stocked up on paper towels.   My hospital bag is packed.  The nursery is finished.  So, I'm good, right? I guess all I need is the baby.  It's a waiting game.  I'm ready to play.  I think.

Spoiled

I am spoiled.  This is not a new revelation to myself or to those who know me.  Ask my favorite aunt and uncle, "She's always been spoiled," they'd say.  Or my older sister, "Growing up, Baby Brooke could get away with anything."  Thankfully, I snatched a good man who also routinely spoils me.  Over the course of our 9 year marriage, he's let me bring home 3 stray dogs, conceded for me to work only part-time as a fitness instructor and doesn't say a peep when I buy expensive Arbonne products.  What a guy!

But, I write today about some fabulous women in my life who recently went above and beyond to spoil not only me, but also Baby Annabelle.  My sister, bf Dana, sister-in-law Cass and sister-in-law Mel all got together to host a lovely baby shower.  Beautiful decorations, yummy food and of course, plenty of gifts for Annabelle!  Dana's mom was kind enough to welcome complete strangers into her house and various male family members were put to work to rearrange furniture, pack-up the gifts and do general clean-up.  My two teenage nieces were (un)willing participants in the shower process as well.  I had the opportunity to catch-up briefly with sorority sisters, high school friends, extended family and newer acquaintances like my tennis partner.  I was feeling the love!

Good friends drove from Dallas and Tulsa to attend the shower.  The award for "longest drive" went to Lesli, her hubby and two kiddos for enduring the 6+ hours from Houston.  See, didn't I say that I'm spoiled!

Here are some pics from the special day:

Babymoon

Just a hop, skip and a jump from Oklahoma City, and we landed in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.  Our destination was an adults-only, all-inclusive beach on the breezy, white-capped Atlantic.  Make mine a double.

He said his name was Manny Ramirez.  I chuckled.  Sure it was.  He could have picked Sammy Sosa or Jose Reyes or Pedro Martinez, all well-known professional baseball players from the Dominican Republic.  And seeing as how we were in the Dominican Republic on our "babymoon," why wouldn't he play to our limited American knowledge of his country and say something that we'd grin at and more importantly, tip him for?

Manny picked us up from the local airport.  The air-conditioned van was a welcome relief after standing in line at the open-air customs and visa check.  I took advantage of the hour-long drive to the resort to ask Manny questions about the Dominican Republic.  Turns out that "all Dominicans love Jesus" and the reason Haiti, with whom they share an island, was devastated by an earthquake and subsequent malaria outbreak was because the Haitians practice voodoo.  And that was the end of my little chat with Manny.

Four days of sunny bliss restored my soul, the vitamin D strengthened my bones and the humidity repaired my mid-winter cracked hands.  Seemed like everyone loved a pregnant gal in a bikini.  Quite the sight, I suppose.  I was pointed at, smiled upon and even a few daring folks reached out to touch my taunt baby belly.  Resembling a beached whale while lounging about, I turned my pasty butterball into a darkened specimen by the end of our trip.

Having experienced all-inclusive splendor in Egypt and Cancun, I should warn any other travelers that our resort, albeit landscaped meticulously, was a little disappointing.  The food was sub-par and the accommodations were more akin to a 3-star hotel.  I hope that my credentials (having lived and traveled internationally) stand for something when I make these types of declarations.  Case(s) in point, on our first night of "the last trip before we have a baby," we were put in a room with 2 double beds.  I guess they figured that under our circumstances, there was no need to give us a king-sized bed.  And I'm not sure if it was a "chicken or egg" sort of thing (do they come because there's food they like or is there food they like because they're there?), but the plethora of Russian couples really seized the buffet with borscht, beets and mayo.  Those buggers sure do get around.

On day five, I had been pouting plentifully about our departure.  Later, we were on the plane headed north, when the flight attendant said, "next stop:  reality."  The hubby and I held hands and grinned.  Because for us, that's not a bad place to be.

Our resort, at dusk

Enjoying the pool with a cool, virgin drink and reading "Baby Wise"

Babymoon 2012

Pregnant gal in a bikini

Pouting