little black journal

It’s been three months (plus a week), and I’m wondering what happened to my newborn baby boy?  I turn my back for a second and suddenly his long legs hang off the edge of my lap when I’m nursing him.  When did his toes start pushing at the seams of his six-month pajamas?  When did he stop making that squeaky sound with each gulp of milk?  And for Pete’s sake, when did this kid grow that irresistible belly?!

Month three brought the best of times and the worst of times. More good than bad, as a sweet toothless grin can right a thousand wrongs, but oh, when Isaac gets mad, his screams will make your eardrums whoosh. He’s thrown a handful of fits at bedtime that have rattled the windows and left us all in various states of angst (my default reaction is concern, Juliette gets sad, and Shane sternly asks him to just “Get it together, Buddy!”). Best not let this kid get overtired, and best not put him in his crib before he’s good and ready, or he will make you pay.

BUT, so many smiles!

And so many long stretches of awake contentedness, which is a welcome new development. He loves the little play mat of Juliette’s that we’ve held onto for all these years and will happily bat at the elephant and giraffe for 20 or 30 minutes while I hang out nearby.

His jabbering turns to fussing when he’s tired of that game and I’ll sit on the floor next to him and look into his eyes and suddenly his breath quickens with excitement and his limbs start flailing like he’s making a snow angel with his arms and riding a bike with his legs and he grins.  All it takes is a moment of eye contact, and he’s over the moon (which of course sends me over the moon).

And the crib grins!  I head into his room when he starts rustling around in the middle of the night or early in the morning and he looks up at me in the glow of his nightlight and smiles big, thrilled by the promise of snuggles and milk.  This face is worth getting out of bed for.

We’re in a good groove with nighttime sleep – Isaac is up around 3 am for a quick eat and goes back down again until 7:00 or 7:30.  Napping, though…  He’s a chronic daytime dozer and wants to sleep in my arms after he eats.  I can transfer him to his crib, but it’s rarely more than 15 minutes before he’s awake and wondering where the heck I went.  And so I hold him.

The hours I’ve spent in the tried-and-true gray rocking chair with this boy, studying his every feature while he sleeps and throws my to-do list to the wayside.  His light purple eyelids will flutter open as he snorts himself awake, then he groggily gazes at me, puts his hand on my chest and drifts back into his serene little slumber.  Don’t go anywhere, Mom.  Sometimes he smiles as he sleeps and lets out a soft chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  Sometimes he furrows his brow and pouts his lips with the saddest little whimper.  I’m here for all of it.

I will say, these drawn-out nursing and napping sessions seem to do his body good, though, as he’s become quite the solid little mister. He’s holding his head up like a champ and his doctor called and his neck strength “kind of unbelievable” at his two-month checkup.

Tummy time also gives me a chance to wipe clean those neck creases!  It’s the only time of the day that his head separates itself from his chest.

He loves to stand and seems to be counting the days until I cave and buy him one of those big plastic exer-saucers. Juliette will prop him up by his armpits and proudly declare him “Prince Isaac of the Heights” before lifting him into the air with a flourish – little bro might be an early cruiser.

Juliette continues to thrive in her role as big sister.  At first I wondered if she just enjoyed playing house with a live baby doll, but once I saw her put her cheek next to his and gush “I just love you so much, Buddy!”, I realized I underestimated her.  She’s feeling the real deal and could not love her brother any better or deeper or sweeter.

She still won’t change poopy diapers, but she does love to dress him and groom him and is often patting his hair down flat with a little bit of water, as she insists this makes him most handsome.  I think he looks like a used car salesman and prefer that tousled situation he has going on in those tummy time pictures, but whatever.

Some things just can’t be tamed…

Isaac loves the bath and so we’re often stretching out bathtime to get through that pre-bedtime fussy hour.

I like a warm bath and a good book too, Isaac.

A few other tidbits:  We’re still throwing around nicknames for Isaac and Chewbacca still pops up from time to time, but I also call him Sausage Toes (kid has some seriously chubby feet!), Sweaty Muffin (boy runs hot!), and Big Pooper (realizing now I may need to come up with some more affirming terms of endearment?).  Shane calls him Buddy Boy and Juliette calls him Little Rascal and BLB (Best Little Brother).

He loves the sound of the shower, the hair dryer, and the vacuum, which is great, as I can set him in his chair and get some housework done or get ready for bed while simultaneously soothing him.

His eyes have stayed blue and the jury is out on whether they’re just newborn blue or forever blue, but I’m hoping it’s the latter.

And…he’s maybe the sweetest baby ever?  I know, I’m a biased, smitten new mama, but seriously, kid…I adore you.

We had some family photos taken by a friend when Isaac was a couple of weeks old and I’ve been going through them this week, having some prints made to hang around the house. I wanted my faves to have a spot on the blog – I love them so much and Julia deserves a proper shout-out!  Also, not to saddle these pics with too much meaning, but I’m feeling some big emotions as I flip through these and am finding them to be a bittersweet bow to tie on our status as a family of four. Shane and I have decided (decided before Isaac was born, actually) that this is it. No more kiddos. We just don’t have the energy or the space in our schedules for another little one. I don’t have the will to play any more rounds of the infertility waiting game. We want time for our whole family to hit the slopes together or tour Europe together before Juliette is grown and leaves the nest. And let’s face it – we’re no spring chickens. Shane spends his evenings with a heating pad wrapped around his elbow and my knees crackle like a bowl of Rice Krispies when I get up from the floor.

Four is good. Four is perfect.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s hard to accept that I will never again experience the euphoria of childbirth or the other-worldly sweetness of those early newborn days. It’s hard not to wonder what might have been had we not waited so long to commit to IVF. It’s hard to part with all of Juliette’s precious little baby dresses, knowing they’ll never be worn by a child of ours. There’s a bit of heartache in the closing of this door.

Because dang, I love being a mom. I love being a mom more than I love anything else on God’s green earth. So I’m going to Mom the bejeezus out of these two kids. I’m going to do my rounds before I go to bed each night and lean over Isaac’s crib for a moment to just soak in the sight of his splayed-out arms (I don’t dare touch a sleeping baby) and then tiptoe into Juliette’s room to adjust her blankets just-so and kiss her on the forehead (sound-sleeping eight year-olds are the best). I’m going to kiss Isaac’s chubby cheeks each morning and then tuck his head into the crook of my neck after I scoop him out of his crib, cooing a dozen “I love you, Buddy’s”. And I’m going to smile as I drop off Juliette at her first school-friend slumber party this Friday, because there can even be joy in watching your kids grow and become more independent (or so I’ve heard).

Isaac is most certainly going to grow up faster than I want him to (already, I hardly recognize this skinny little babe!), and I’m going to get all weepy and sentimental at each birthday, but then I’ll remember that Juliette has shown me that there are always plenty of good times up ahead.

Oh, and I am 100% taking this girl to Paris someday.

And fingers crossed, I’m going to watch these two keep up this love-fest, which has already made for some of the happiest moments of my life.

Four is good.

Isaac has kind of taken front and center on my photo reel lately, but I do believe Juliette deserves the spotlight for a moment while I dwell on just how special her first couple of months as an eight year-old have been.

She sashayed into 2nd grade with all the grace and confidence in the world and has been rocking student life.  She’s loved every single day of in-person school and even moans a bit when Friday rolls around, because she won’t get to see all her friends again till Monday.  P.E. is her favorite subject, but she also thinks math quizzes are the most-fun thing ever.  Last night over dinner she explained cultural appropriation to Shane and me.  The world is her oyster and she is eating it up.

Girl is fancier than ever and wants to grow up (and dress the part) faster than I will let her. I put some mascara on her lashes as part of her Halloween face paint and she about fainted with excitement. Don’t get used to it, kiddo – best stick to unicorn headbands and feather boas.

Ok, and pink satin gloves for tea parties, of course…

I asked her the other night if she wanted to walk with me and Isaac around the block after dinner and she said yes, but first she had to “get ready”.  She’s got a headband and a pair of glasses for everything.

(This is her teacher eye-ware.)

And this is her telling Shane to go quietly to the bathroom and to stop disrupting the class (in a very convincing British accent, no less).

She’s fancy, and she’s funny. Like not just aww, that’s adorable, but like legitimately, creatively funny. There’s been a lot of pickle ball talk in our house lately given Shane’s recent obsession, and Juliette came out of her room the other day donning cowgirl boots and a straw hat, strumming her ukulele and saying in her twangiest voice, “Now gathah round for a little storah, ‘bout a game I like to call Pickle the Bawl…”  In her version of pickle ball, you see how many pickles you can jam inside a ball before it explodes, which sounds much more straight-forward than the rules that Shane plays by.

Shane and Juliette have always been close playmates, but lately I’m seeing them enjoy each other’s company more than ever.  Soccer, board games, tickle fights…they do it all together.

When she really clobbers Shane at a board game, she’ll offer him a consolation hug before they clean up – she’s the graceful-est of winners.  Losing well is more of a stretch, but we’re working on it.

And at the risk of letting Isaac inch in on Juliette’s blog post, let me wax poetic for a bit on what an unbelievable big sister she’s become.  I knew she would love having a baby around the house, but I figured there would be some jealousy and disappointment as she came to realize Shane and I couldn’t lavish her with quite the same level of attention.  None of that, though – when she hears anyone remark over how cute Isaac is, she’s quick to respond with, “I know!!!  Isn’t he the cutest baby you’ve ever seen in your whole life?!”  At which point I lean over and can’t help but whisper to her, “And you’re the sweetest big sister I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”.

The first few weeks were a lot of Juliette just oohing and ahhing over Isaac while he slept…

But soon he started to look a little more alive…

And there was a lot of these two gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.  Slayed me.

She’s continually wanting to up her sisterly responsibilities and now takes the lead on bath time, the occasional bottle feeding, and clothing selection.  Poopy diapers are a hard no, though.

She couldn’t bear the sound of Isaac’s crying when we first brought him home from the hospital, but once she realized there are often some very sweet snuggles on the other side of that crying, she was quick to take shushing shifts.  He got really fired up one evening when he was a few weeks old and neither Shane nor I could get him to settle; I laid him down on the couch for a moment so that I could put on the Boba and take him for a walk.  Juliette scooped him up while I was suiting up and he went from shrieking to silent in a matter of seconds.  She and I looked at each other and couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re such a little rascal, Isaac!”, she cooed in his ear.

(Rascal?  Him?  It’s true!)

The proud look of a sister that rocked her brother to sleep while Mom and Dad were distracted elsewhere…you go, girl.

Isaac is often in our bed for his morning snack by the time Juliette wakes up and she’ll bound into our room exclaiming, “Where’s the best little brother in the whole wide world?!”  On weekends she’ll snuggle in next to him; on weekdays she carries him into the kitchen so that he can sit in his bouncer while she eats her breakfast.  Either way, I’m left free to go make my coffee.  WIN!

This picture makes me laugh -  Issac is giving me that look that says, “Mom!  She’s telling me I’m adorable and squeezing too tight again!”

Just lean into it, buddy.  I couldn’t get her out of your arms if I tried.

GAH!!!  I’ll stop now, but seriously.

You’re something else, Juliette Grace.  As a big sister of course, but also as my clever, affectionate, fiercely kind firstborn.  Eight is great.

I really wasn’t quite sure what to make of Halloween this year – I didn’t know if trick-or-treating would resume as usual or if Isaac would tolerate being put in a costume or if we’d have the energy to make it to the pumpkin patch, but…I’ve got a girl that loves all things Halloween, so the show must go on!

First up: pumpkin carving.  Juliette has become a master with the little carving saw, but pumpkin guts still gross her out…

Carved in honor of Isaac, aka Grogu, aka Baby Yoda!

Some school friends invited Juliette on a scavenger hunt at Schmitz Park on Halloween morning – their dedicated mama got up early that day to hide dozens of small plastic pumpkins along the trail and then the kids were all released to hunt and find.

I love a crisp fall morning in the woods!

We ended the hunt with hot chocolate and a barefoot jog at Alki Beach.  Cold schmold!

Because I couldn’t resist the urge to maximize our fun on what was a rare sunny weekend, we spent that afternoon at the Spooner Farms pumpkin patch, wandering the rows of their famous corn maze.

And we wandered and wandered and wondered if we’d ever make it out of there!

You can sense Isaac’s mild concern…

Really, though, a good time was had by all.

We eventually emerged and then Juliette took a spin on the cart course, Shane did some target practice with the pumpkin sling shot, and we called it a day.

(Look alive, Isaac!)

We headed out at sundown for some neighborhood trick-or-treating with our little forest animals.  Juliette makes such a chic deer, no?

 

I had bought this fuzzy jumper for future winter outings, but figured that with a little black nose it would double as an easy bear costume for Isaac.

He looks very resigned to this whole dressing-up thing, like I can’t believe my mom is making me do this.

We met up with a couple of friends, hit up the neighborhood hot spots, and then after an hour Juliette responsibly decided that she had plenty of candy and so we headed home to tuck in the teddy bear.

Thumbs-up, October!

We’re in full-blown Fall and barreling toward winter as the days get remarkably shorter and the aisles of Target fill with Christmas decor.  It’s been a sweet season, these past few weeks of finding our new groove as a family of four and slowly emerging from our newborn cocoon to spend more time with family and friends.

Our parade of visitors began at the end of September when my parents trekked to Seattle to meet their one and only grandson.  My mom said she couldn’t remember the last time she had held a baby, but it seems her soothing skills came flooding back to her as she rocked and sang Isaac to sleep within hours of their arrival.

Motown, hymns, country…Grandma sings it al!

My dad also got some quality cuddle time…

…though I especially loved bearing witness to his playtime with Juliette.

We didn’t get out a whole lot that week, but it was nice to fold my parents into our quiet routine and to have some company as I picked up Juliette from school or spent an afternoon on the couch with a sleeping baby on my chest.

My brother and his family joined us for a weekend in October – there was driveway basketball and a walk at Lincoln Park and several rounds of pass-the-baby.

Bina the dog is used to being the baby in the room and displayed a little envy early-on, but once she’d sniffed out Isaac and determined he wasn’t going to hop right into anyone’s lap, she decided he was alright.

I turned forty that Saturday and it was nice to have family around to toast to a new decade.

Plus, Mitch makes some mean spaghetti and meatballs.  He and Shane spent much of the afternoon planning and shopping and cooking and I MUCH appreciated it.

Cheers!

And to bookend grandparent season, the Schnells landed in Seattle a couple of weeks ago along with our niece, Shanay.

While Grandma and Grandpa doted on Isaac, Shanay was an amazing buddy for Juliette.  There aren’t too many 22 year-olds that will jump at the chance to do Play-dough, but she was so incredibly generous with her time and attention (plus, she can french braid, which essentially gives her Queen status with Juliette).

Lazy mornings…

Lazy afternoons…

Again, we didn’t get out much.  But we were plenty content to cozy up inside with the baby.  Denny wore his grandpa-heart on his sleeve and spent long stretches of time just gazing at Isaac’s little face and saying, “Grandpa loves you…you’re such a gift, buddy…”.

It was a tearful goodbye (not just for Isaac!), but those few days together were precious.

In other news, we inducted Isaac into the Giants fan club and cheered on our team during their too-short playoff season.

Gosh, it hurt to lose to the Dodgers.  Also hurt to hear that Buster Posey is retiring!  Juliette shed a few tears when the news broke…

Other October happenings included our first annual Harry Potter night.  Juliette and I spent the afternoon making Hogwarts-themed treats and then invited the Rusts over for snacks and a movie.

Sorting hats were chosen at random and the color of the jelly beans inside told you which house you belonged in.

Slytherin for J!  I knew he had a dark side…

But Slytherin for Nance, too?  I expected better.

I tend to overuse the word “cozy” in my Fall and Winter blog posts, but…it really was the coziest of October evenings.

Cozy vibes aside, sometimes we’ve just gotta get out, and Juliette’s Saturday soccer games have proven to be an excellent reason to leave the house.  This is her first year on the team and she is killing it!  I am so, so proud of her – she’s a force out there, scoring goals at every game, passing to her friends like a true team player, and shaking off the occasional bump or bruise.

Isaac doesn’t quite follow the action, but at least he keeps my lap warm!

On really muddy days, the girls line up during half-time and stick their feet out so that the coaches can scrape their cleats clean.  These dads get gold stars.

Morning walks are another good reason to leave the house, partly because I need the exercise, but also because Isaac needs the nap.

Bonus points if I can work my route to include a coffee stop.

Double-bonus if I’m joined by a friend!

Saving the Halloween pics for another day, and then it’s onto the business of November-ing!

Baby boy turned two months old on Sunday and we’re majorly feeling the time trickery that comes with parenthood – Isaac is growing and changing at warp speed and yet it feels like eons ago that he joined our family, like he’s been with us for years. He’s a totally different kid than he was in September and will surely go flip-mode on us again (and again), so lest I forget these newborn days, a recap! I’ll begin with a handful of photos from waaaay back when, when he was just two weeks old and barely able to keep his eyes open:

And some post-bath looks of skepticism at three weeks old:

It’s already getting hard to remember the chill infant we brought home from the hospital, the one that would fall asleep in our arms at any given moment and let us set him down to doze on the couch or the floor or his bouncy chair for hours on end.  I remember Shane telling someone on the phone early on that he’d hardly even heard the baby cry and I thought to myself, “wait for it…”.

My intuition was right and Isaac really “found his voice” at about four weeks.  He’s been using it since to request (demand) long stretches of nursing or bouncing or rocking or shushing before drifting off to sleep. If he’s upset but doesn’t need to eat, I’ll wrap him up in the Boba and crank up some music to sing and dance him to sleep. Shallow by Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga almost always makes his eyelids heavy and then I go to Renegade by Taylor Swift for the TKO.

Shane doesn’t have the patience to fiddle with 20 feet of stretchy cloth and just goes for the human wrap hold.  Looks sweet, but ooofff…my back hurts just looking at this picture.

We’re far from finding a predictable sleeping routine but have managed over the past four weeks to get Isaac out of our room and into his crib for (most of) the night. Much as I love waking up nose-to-nose with him, he’s a pretty restless bed-mate and so it’s best if he has his own space in which to flop around and grunt. He’s also a super-loud eater and squeaks with each suckle, so Shane much appreciates it when I do the 1am (and 3am, and 5am) feedings in Isaac’s room rather than ours. We’re working on a more consistent bedtime and appreciate that he’ll usually log a few solid hours to start the night, but after that 1 or 2am feeding, all bets are off.  (That said, at the risk of jinxing any good fortune, baby boy woke up only once at 3:30 last night, and then went back down till 7:15 this morning!  I’m a new woman today.)

I know, crib is best, but goodness, those first couple weeks when I would nurse him in bed and then tuck him in next to me were awfully sweet…

If nighttime sleep is unpredictable, daytime sleep is a total crapshoot – there are days when Isaac will fall asleep in his car seat during morning errands and then snooze for four plus hours, and there are days when he does all of his sleeping in hour-long segments in my arms, waking the moment I try to set him down. I obviously prefer the former, but honestly, the latter ain’t so bad…

He’s a mouthy kid and is constantly trying to figure out just how many his fingers he can fit in his mouth at one time – we’ve started calling him Chewbacca because of his incessant desire to chew/gnaw/suck. He has mixed feelings about pacifiers, but will nurse for hours if I let him (I won’t. Usually.). The tip of Shane’s pinky finger is also a fan favorite.

He doesn’t have quite the head of hair his sister did as a baby, and sadly I think his hairline has receded these past few weeks, but there’s still enough for a pretty substantial poof. Extra-poofy post bath.

I am already nostalgic for the teeny-tiny days, but there’s a ton of goodness in seeing Isaac start to interact with us all a little more. He really started locking in eye contact at about five weeks and was offering smiles (if we really work for them) at about seven weeks. He loves having his cheeks lightly tickled and gets a kick out my impersonation of his grunty little pig sounds.

He has become very accustomed to being the Beau of the Ball when I pick up Juliette from school or when we have friends over for dinner.  Such a patient, humble little dude…

And sheesh, he L-O-V-E-S his big sis. I will wax poetic in another post about what an incredible sister Juliette has become, but for now, I’ll say that moments like this one come often, followed by Juliette saying things like, “You made such a good baby, Mama!”.

And finally, Isaac’s photo shoot at six weeks:

 

Seven weeks:

And eight weeks (THOSE. SMILES!!!):

Buddy, the rate at which you’re growing kind of breaks a mama’s heart, but…I most definitely forgive you.

Rule #1 of parenthood: you can’t control everything. Why do I keep forgetting this? I must have told eight people on the first day of my maternity leave that the baby would surely be late. Passing-by neighbors asked “How are you feeling?”, and I said, “Feeling good – this baby certainly isn’t in any rush!” I had lined up the painter and the electrician and the floor finisher that week to put the final touches on the kitchen so that we could bring the baby home to a fully-complete remodel. I asked my mom that afternoon to buy a plane ticket to be here for Juliette’s first day of school on September 1st, because I really didn’t think the baby would come by his August 28th due date and imagined we might be at the hospital on the 1st. I ran into my friend Amanda the evening of August 23rd while Shane was playing pickle ball and told her, “I’ll keep you posted, but don’t expect to hear from me anytime soon!”

Well, well, well. He showed me.

Juliette and I left Shane at the pickle ball court that evening and headed home for a night of Mama-Jules chilling. Juliette hung out in the bathroom with me while I showered and we made our plans – an episode of Property Brothers, some ice cream, some reading time together in bed…the next day we were going to head downtown to visit the Great Wheel and grab lunch at the waterfront. The week was my oyster!

It was just as I was stepping out of the shower and felt a gush of liquid leave my body that those plans ground to a screeching halt. Juliette looked up at me with wide eyes while I did my best to stay cool: “Uhhhh…that was interesting, kiddo. Not sure what’s going on, but I think maybe my water just broke? Which might mean the baby is coming?” But before I could urge her not to panic, Juliette was on her feet, tears streaming down her face while she frantically ran in place, crying “But Daddy’s not here!” I quickly called Nance (it’s a Godsend when one of your closest friends is a birth doula), who confirmed that it did sound like my water had broken, and postulated that the greenish-brown bits that spattered on the shower floor were likely meconium (baby poo), which meant that my doctor would want me at the hospital sooner rather than later. Next call was to Shane and was short and sweet: “My water just broke. Come home NOW!” And then to my doctor’s office, who did say they wanted to see me at the hospital within the next hour or two. It was go-time.

I pushed aside the voice in my head that was screaming, “BUT THIS ISN’T THE PLAN!” and said, “This is so exciting, kiddo! We’re going to meet your baby brother soon!” I calmly (though maybe in an octave higher than my normal voice?) told Juliette that she needed to be brave and we needed to get ready to leave – she had to pack an overnight bag for her stay at the Rusts and I had to make sure my own bag was ready. We flew into a packing frenzy and as Juliette began to shift from panic-mode to prep-mode, she stopped to grab my hands and look up at me with watery eyes and a chin quiver to say, “I don’t want to you to worry about me, Mama. Just worry about taking care of you. Now what else can I do?” And then my eyes watered because how did my baby become so mature?

Shane came home, sweaty from his fastest-ever bike ride, and started tossing things into his own duffel bag. In no time, we were headed out the door, equal parts excited and anxious. We dropped off Juliette with the Rusts, snapped one last picture as a family of three, gave our girl several big hugs, and then Shane and I were off to the hospital with Nance right behind us.

I spent the car ride to the hospital texting our contractor about our abrupt change of plans (“but feel free to finish up the painting while we’re gone!”) and felt only a couple of very light contractions. If not for the meconium that I knew our boy was floating around in, I would have asked Shane if we could stop for a latte to face the long night ahead.

We were ushered into our labor triage room at the hospital and I was hooked up to the monitors – it was a relief to hear baby’s heartbeat fill the small room and I laid back on my stack of pillows. Contractions started coming a bit more frequently, though the pain was still light enough for me to easily breathe through them.

We were led to our delivery room around 11pm and then things started gettin’ real. The pain intensified and I tried to distract myself by neatly repacking my thrown-together hospital bag (I clean when I’m anxious), but shortly after midnight no amount of tidying up was going to keep me sane and so I put in my request for an epidural. Shane held my hands and looked at me understandingly as the anesthesiologist poked at my spine and mused that I must not be in that much pain at only 3 centimeters dilated. If he wasn’t about to pump me full of pain meds, I would have turned around and slugged the guy in the nose.

The next few hours are a blur of trying to get some rest, trying to stay calm as the doctor and nurse debated the stability of the baby’s heart rate, and desperately just wanting to hold my boy safely in my arms. I was assured throughout the night that the baby was fine, but as I obsessively tracked my contractions on my watch and saw them remain at five minutes apart, I began to wonder if this kid was going to come out without some heavy intervention. A new nurse came in around 4:00 and rearranged my body in an effort to get things moving along more quickly. The contractions soon intensified, and then intensified some more, and by 5:00 they were setting up the bed for delivery. I watched them prep the small bassinet with a heat lamp and warm blankets and that’s when it really, really hit me – though our son had been growing inside me for the past nine months, I don’t think it was until that moment that I truly believed in my heart of hearts that he was real.

The contractions were excruciating by 5:10, even with the epidural, but Shane and Nance coached me though them while I gave Shane an array of confusing orders. “Squeeze my hand! No, don’t touch me; I’m too sweaty! Come here! Give me space!” By 5:20 the doctor gave me the all-clear to start pushing and I bore down and pushed through the pain. At 5:29 am on August 24th a slippery, crying babe was placed on my chest and I sobbed tears of joy, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude and love for this little one we’ve longed for.

Welcome to the world, Isaac Henry!  7 lb 1 oz, 18 3/4” long, and a head of hair just like his sister’s.

Isaac means “he will laugh” and speaks of the way Abraham and Sarah laughed incredulously when they discovered they were pregnant with their own son Isaac. Though Shane’s 41 years of age doesn’t hold a candle to Abraham’s 100, it still felt fitting – oh, how we’ve waited for you, baby!

The rest of Isaac’s birth day is a haze of feeding sessions and round-the-clock nurse visits and mango smoothies from hospital food service. We weren’t allowed to leave our post-partum recovery room due to COVID protocols and while Shane started feeling stir-crazy about 12 hours in, I loved those 24 hours of having no responsibility other than to feed the baby, hold the baby, and memorize every feature of his soft and squished newborn face. I don’t even think I changed a diaper in that first day!

Shane and I both thought Isaac had freckles until we discovered that was just dried poo on his face.

…Much better!

It’s been a long, long time since I held a newborn, but oh, how it all came back to me…he felt so right in my arms.

I know…so many first-day photos, but he got cuter every time I looked at him!

We weren’t allowed any visitors due to COVID protocols, so Isaac met all of his biggest fans over FaceTime, #1 being his big sister who cooed “Awwww, he’s so cute!” when she saw him on-screen.  She didn’t know the half of it.

While room service and a personal nurse were nice, by Wednesday morning we were ready to get home to our other child. We packed our things, strapped Isaac into the car seat, and moseyed on out of there, much less anxious about leaving the hospital than we were the first time around, but no less excited to be bringing a new family member into our home.

We were greeted by a living room full of blue streamers (this is what happens when you give kind neighbors a spare key!) that eased the pain over our not-done remodel and the absence of any furniture in our living room. This wasn’t quite the homecoming I’d envisioned, but whatever.  Shane got Isaac and I settled and then headed back out to pick up Juliette.

Juliette bounded in the front door several minutes later and then tip-toed toward the bed as she entered her room where I was holding her sleeping brother. “He’s adorable!”, she whispered. And then she asked tentatively, “Can I hold him?” I tucked him into her arms and she was immediately smitten – tears sprang to both our eyes as our collective years of waiting and hoping came to an end. HE’S HERE!

That first day at home was a mix of big, big emotions. Mostly bliss – it felt so good to have us together under one roof! But also anxiety (Juliette was very unsettled by Issac’s wailing as we changed his diaper), exhaustion, and a little bit of sadness over what once was. As I rushed to get ready for bed that evening so that I could feed an antsy Isaac, Juliette asked, “Wait…can you still lay with me sometimes before bed?” I stopped what I was doing and immediately wrapped my arms around her as the tears began to flow from both of us (we did a lotta crying that day!). “Everything is just so different now, Mama…”.  And she’s right – that little babe has caused some big changes in all our lives. But as I nursed Isaac in Juliette’s bed that evening while she drifted off to sleep, one of my arms cradling his tiny body and one of my hands running through her long hair, I was assured: these are changes we can roll with.

Lazy weekend mornings in our bed are a little more crowded, but a lot more sweet.

Books in bed now include a baby.

And though Isaac (and Shane?) sleep through our evening episodes of The Great Pottery Throw Down, Juliette still appreciates the extra company.

She’s such a doting big sis and has given up her reign as only child with grace. She loves to hold Isaac and takes great pride in how carefully she supports his wobbly head as she picks him up, cooing, “Hellooooooo, buddy, helloooooooo!”.

But before she picks him up, she smooths his hair flat and to the side, insisting it’s best this way because “it makes him look like a handsome teenager getting ready for a ball”.

And while Juliette isn’t the single center of our universe anymore, Shane and I are making space for quality one-on-one time with her – much as I love watching her play the role of big sister, it also feels good to spend time with her as my best little buddy.  We’ve had a couple of very satisfying coffee shop dates…

And Shane busted out his 2,000-piece Father’s Day gift for some serious Daddy-Jules Lego-building sessions (Isaac was occasionally invited to the party, though he gets no credit for the actual build).

When Juliette’s at school and Shane is working, I get the babe to myself; I let the feeding sessions linger and then transition to long snuggle sessions on the couch. These newborn days are even more precious than I remember, maybe because I know this is it for us. I’m soaking it up, wanting to remember forever the weight of his milk-drunk body on my chest, the way he spontaneously smiles in his sleep as if he’s having the sweetest of dreams, that little crinkle at the bridge of his nose…

Baby boy sleeps a lot during the day.  There were times in that first week when I hardly felt like I saw his eyes open (which was ok – he’s quieter when his eyes are closed!).

We’re still working on prolonging the nighttime sleep sessions and begin each night with the best of intentions:  “Tonight’s the night we’ll keep him swaddled and in his bassinet!”  Somehow, though, he always ends up in our bed.

There are worse things to wake up to…

We’re nearly three weeks in and still have plenty of figuring-out to do, but we’re in this together, the FOUR of us.  I like the sound of that.