After my miserable, hormonal ranting about being 40 and ultimately 41 weeks pregnant I want everyone to know that I understand how blessed I am. Truly. Now that I am removed from the tearful haze and the discomfort of 40 weeks, I am counting my blessings.

Yesterday was World Prematurity Day. One in nine babies in the US is born too soon. Read more from the March of Dimes here. Ya’ll, that is a lot of babies. I bet you know children and adults who were and are preemies. Recently I have found myself praying and thanking God over and over that my son was more than 8 lbs. of squishy sweetness, I was able to nurse him in the delivery room and he was my little APGAR rock star. Both my children were born full-term and as anxious as I was for them to make their arrival, I am SO THANKFUL for healthy pregnancies.

Last year I told you about sweet little twins, Avery and Raegan, who were born at 25 weeks, 6 days. My friend Nicole is their mother and I am so blessed to know her. She is smart and brave and has seen her family through a rough year of more hospital stays for her son, Avery. Through Nicole I have learned about the strong parents and skilled medical professionals that are in NICU’s around the world. More than anything, I learned the strength a mother has for her children and it is inspiring.

Avery and Raegan, age 3

These little miracles have exciting news! Nicole is expecting again! My heart nearly burst when I heard the news and I left an overly-excited, rambling message on her voicemail.

Me and Nicole at the March For Babies this year

Doctors don’t know why some babies are born too soon, but through research, they are learning more. Please consider donating to the March of Dimes. My awesome family and friends donated in honor of Henry for his baby showers or “sprinkles” this year. Let me know if March of Dimes is a charity you support or if there is another charity for babies people should know more about. Give for all the expectant mothers and little miracles you know.

It’s only been three years. I tried to jog my memory and remember all of the nitty gritty I had forgotten about postpartum life and having a newborn. Our son arrived a week and two days ago and there are some notable similarities and differences from Baby #1 to Baby #2.

Ouch!– I had to describe to my first-time pregnant friend what it was like physically after giving birth. I was honest. “It’s like a crime scene down there.” I felt bad. I thought she was going to cry. Well, she should know. I wish I had.

Once again, I am wrecked yo.  But, it healed up up quick last time. I was good as new. I fully expect the same this time. Fortunately, I was aware that it would take 10 minutes to go to the bathroom every time these first couple of weeks, so I was ready. Allow for bathroom time, new mothers! You’re welcome.

I’ve been thankful for Dermaplast and perineal ice packs. Greyson even made a run to the specialty pharmacy to get more of the cold pads for me. I figured out why they only give you so many at the hospital. They are $4.00 a piece! The thing is, I would have paid more. You ladies understand.

I remember some after pains or cramping when nursing after Baby #1 was born. Oh my God! This time?! Insane! It felt like contractions again. Seriously. It died down after a couple of days, but good Lord! That’s when the nurse and my mom informed me, “Oh yeah, it’s much worse with subsequent babies.” Good to know. Take note, second-timers.

The Hospital and Recorded Feedings– With Baby #1, Greyson and I hung on to the doctors and nurses’ every words. We dutifully filled out their feeding chart with time and duration of each nursing session. We kept track of each bit of meconium and consulted the lactation consultant a ridiculous four times. We both loved our nurses and thanked them a hundred times. We looked at each other and thought, “Oh my God! They’re letting us leave here with an infant. What the hell are they thinking?”

This time we didn’t write down jack. I humored one nurse, by making up some numbers. I could just tell her feeding times. I refused to write them down and continue this ritual for two weeks! With Baby #1 for two weeks I went insane recording every feeding and poop in a cute little notebook. I set the timer on the old iPhone 3GS and recorded each one. Really?! No. Not this time. Granted, I enjoyed the little notes I wrote at the end of each day about my newborn daughter’s early days, but I think it made me go a little crazy to keep those types of records. I think some Type A, detail oriented mothers would love that, but it caused me too much anxiety. Sorry. Let’s just feed the kid and move on with life. So far so good with  Baby #2. I’m just feeding him while checking Twitter on my iPhone 5 this time.

We were generally annoyed and really ready to get out of the hospital, frankly. I think every baby in the county decided to be born the same day as our son. The staff seemed busy and frazzled. Paying a higher copay than last time didn’t help our moods. We were just generally irritated by the end of our hospital stay. We enjoyed all our sweet visitors, but it was time to go!

Snip- We didn’t know if this baby was a boy or a girl, so when we saw his kibbles and bits, we had to make a decision. A circumcision decision. I wanted to make sure I understood the pros and cons of circumcision and types of circumcisions. There are different kinds. Who knew? We didn’t. Baby #1 was a girl. How would we know?

I did some research on my phone and had extensive Twitter DM conversations with some of my boy mom blogger friends. I won’t tell you what we decided because that would be discussing my son’s genitals on the Internet. Poor kid. It’s bad enough his shameless mother discusses hers.

Milk and Weight Gain– The dairy is open for business, ya’ll! This kid came out an eater. In the delivery room he was rooting around and ready to go. The milk came in faster this time. Thank God. Colostrum wasn’t cutting it. This baby wanted milk. He was born 8 lbs. 2 oz. and left the hospital 7 lbs. 13 oz. He stayed 7 lbs. 13 oz. at his two day appointment.

I am not making this up. In five days the child was up to 8 lbs. 10 oz.! The doctor had to look at the chart twice. She thought it was a typo. I’m proud of my boobs. Not gonna lie.

I remember after Charlotte was born I really had to prepare my heart and my mind to write a birth story. I know that sounds like some sappy blogger stuff, but it’s true. Relaying the story and doing it justice is a big task. The same goes for Henry’s story. I’ll get there. It won’t be long.

We’re hunkered down here in newborn land. There are warm blankets, sweet visitors, casseroles and desserts. I’ve become reacquainted with Dermaplast, nursing tank tops and all the things that make the first few weeks postpartum so…um…unique.

Mostly we’ve spent the past five days understanding what it means to be a family of four. Here is a glimpse…

Our first family of four picture in the hospital.

 Oh, my heart! They meet!

Two hours home with a big sister and he has princess stickers on. I think she likes her brother.

His name is Henry.

He has downy black hair and round cheeks. He’s warm and soft when he lays on my chest in that floppy way only newborns can. His smell is intoxicating and lovely. He joined us November 6, 2013 at 9:53 pm. 8 lbs. and 2 oz. of perfection.

We are coming together as four. It’s a new era for us and it is wonderful. We are “Somebodies Parents”. There is much more to come. Welcome.

Dear Charlotte,

For the past few weeks I’ve been asking you how old you are, just to hear you say “I’m two!” because it’s so sweet and adorable. I think it’s a mama thing. Mamas have to deal with their babies getting older. The thing that has surprised me is how much I have loved the three-year-old narrative that follows “I’m two!”

You usually say, “But on my next birfday I’m gonna be free!” I ask why we had your party early and you say, “Because the baby’s comin’ at my birfday and I’m gonna be a big sister!”

Today your birthday remained your own and your brother or sister remained wombside, making us wait, just like you did until three years ago today. It’s okay. You’ll probably be glad not to have to share November 2nd when you are older and little siblings are not cool.

Happy Birthday! I’m  convinced, sweet girl that the old song is true. Three is a magic number.

“The past and the present and the future
Faith and hope and charity
The heart and the brain and the body
Give you three
That’s a magic number”

-Schoolhouse Rock

This year of age 2 has been wonderful. Since 2 1/2 you have left toddlerhood and become a full-fledged preschooler with gusto, never looking back. You are potty trained now. You still wear a Pull-Up at night, but we’ll get to that. No rush. You have left behind some toddler toys, and replaced them with your imagination. Daddy and I are amazed all the time at the stories you act out in your head and the scenarios you come up with. You’re always asking us to come to your playroom for a “picnic” or come inside Rapunzel’s “tower.”

You love your friends and classmates. You can tell us what’s happening at school each day and what you’re learning. You always want to know what letter something starts with or what a color is in Spanish. You say, “Let’s do shapes Mama!” That means you want to name what shape something is that I point out. You told your teacher recently that the square she drew was not a circle because a circle has no sides and no angles. The teacher asked you if you wanted an algebra book. We laughed. We are so proud of your excitement to learn. We have a feeling the “why” phase is fast approaching as that word comes up often.

With all of this “threeness” is you asserting your independence. We frequently hear “No! I do it by myself!” Overall, you are a well-behaved kid, but listening to Mama and Daddy or your teachers is tough for you sometimes. It’s a balance for us to encourage your independence, but still learn boundaries and manners. We’re learning.

We love how brave you are. When some kids your age scream and run away from things, you don’t. It’s not that  you weren’t scared of the zombie Halloween decoration we saw trick-or-treating, you were. But, you mustered up your courage and headed to the house anyway with the determined look Daddy and I love.

“A man and a woman had a little baby
Yes, they did
They had three in the family
That’s a magic number”

Three will mean big changes for you as  you become a big sister and we become a family of four but we know you will be up for it strong girl. This was a birthday we celebrated as a family of three for the last time. It was magical.

I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama