Happy birthday, Westley James!

It was foggy the morning our son was born, so even the weather seemed to say that this day was going to be different. And it was. It was the best day of my life. I imagine someday when my son or anyone asks about that day, my story will go a little something like this:

I checked into the hospital to be induced during the 7 a.m. hour. My admission wasn't dramatic with contractions, water breaking, Lamaze breathing or a speeding wheelchair ride. Brian and I held hands and grinned, ready to begin the process that would lead us to the long-awaited introduction to our son or daughter.

We had planned ahead and packed a few movies, a good move. The morning was rather uneventful as we waited for the pitocin to force my body to have contractions. We watched "Princess Bride" because one of the characters had the same name as the one we had chosen should we have a son. At noon, things were progressing too slowly. So a doctor broke my water for me. This baby was in no hurry to make his grand debut.

After a long afternoon of resting, visits from family members and observing increasing pain and the frequency and intensity of contractions, I started the real work of having a baby around 8:30 p.m.

One story that we love to tell: In the midst of pushing, my doctor scolded Brian. Apparently his "C'mon babe! You can do it!" prompts were becoming too loud and energetic for our doc. Our labor and delivery nurse even asked Brian if he had been in organized sports, based on his coaching phrases. "She's got to be able to hear me," our doc told my hubby. (Brian won my heart all over again for his commitment to being The Best Labor Coach Ever.) We were an amazing team.

Two hours later, at 10:38 p.m., our son entered the world. I'll never forget the sound of Brian's voice as he gushed, "Oh my God, babe, we have a son!" We had picked out the name Westley James in October 2009, but it still sounded so new on my lips as we greeted him. His entrance had been a little scary: His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and shoulders. A NICU unit was on site to assist, and little Westley didn't cry loudly when he was first born. It was a frightening few minutes. As the experts were helping our little 8-pound-6-ounce, 21-inch-long miracle, my temperature was spiking and my body was in shock. But with God's love and grace, both baby and mommy proved to be just fine.

Brian and I spent some quiet time together with our son before inviting our parents and his brother to meet Westley. We were exhausted and happy beyond words. A few of the photos we snapped that night and into the early morning:



The proud daddy with our little boy

Mom and Westley

My parents, Westley and me

My brother-in-law Eric and Westley

My parents-in-law, John and Janice, and Westley

My first mommy post

I am a mommy!

The statement brings tears to my eyes. I still can't believe it. The last two months have been the most magical, bewildering --and, yes, exhausting -- of my life as I've made the transition to motherhood. Today is my last full-time day of maternity leave, and I've found myself appropriately introspective about how my life has changed in the last eight weeks.

I'm pleased with the decisions I've made to push aside many of my daily trappings (this blog included) to relish the time I've had getting to know my new son. Many times I chose to simply sit and hold him, feel his soft skin, listen to his quiet breathing, rather than check e-mail, dust the living room, etc. And I'm so glad I did. It's time I'll never have again. But now I feel compelled to document the experience before it's too far in the past. My next few posts will do just that.

Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported Brian and me in this new chapter. We've been touched and humbled by the phone calls, visits, gifts, meals and more from family and friends to help us celebrate and adapt to our new life.

May 18th doesn't seem that long ago. That morning, we loaded up the truck with our "go bags" and headed to the hospital. On the way, we sang along to the Black Eyed Peas ("I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night") and knew our lives would be forever changed that day.

My final baby bump photo, and our last self-portrait before our son was born:

The countdown is on!

This is the parking sign that Brian and I laughed at last week when we thought I might be in labor, went to the hospital at 11 p.m. ... and got sent home at 1:30 a.m. But tomorrow morning, at 10 days past my due date, the real deal begins.

My friend Denise snapped photos of me at work as I bid my co-workers farewell for the next 12 weeks. Amazing to think how much life will change in the meantime. Here's a photo of my work badge and baby bump. And here's another dubbed the "pregnant prom photo" with me and my friend Jaime. And here is Jaime's photo of my walking out the door. (Check out that baby bump. Yowza!)

We are humbled by all of our friends and family who have told us they're holding us in their hearts and prayers. It's probably fair to say that Brian and I are equally excited, nervous, thrilled and overwhelmed. (We're starting to sound just like new parents!)

I don't plan to update my blog until we're home with Baby B. In the meantime, Brian will be our chief communicator. Follow his updates on Twitter or on Facebook, if you're connected with him there.

Wish us luck. Parenthood, here we come!

Preggo 'remembories'

During the last nine months, I've been saving mementos that symbolize my pregnancy and some of the fun things I've done as an expectant mom. (Brian & I call them "remembories" -- our own combination of remember and memories.) I intend to box up the items and save them for reminiscing on a future rainy day. Now a week overdue, I thought it was a safe time to take an inventory of my stash. It includes:

• A speeding warning (Whoops!) from the Oklahoma Department of Public Safety, received during the drive back from vacation last fall (I didn't even know I was pregnant then.)

• My doctor's business card

• A dried rose from the bouquet Brian ordered to be placed on the altar at church the day we announced to the congregation that we were expecting

• One merchandise tag each from a Classic Pooh item we bought for the nursery and maternity clothes I bought

• Receipts from my first bag of decaf coffee and crib accessories (dust ruffle, fitted sheet, etc.) -- some of the first items for the nursery -- that Brian & I bought last fall

• Two pair of 3D glasses and movie stubs from "New Moon", "Avatar", "Alice in Wonderland", "Oceans", "Babies" and "Iron Man 2" -- just some of the movies I watched in theaters during my pregnancy

• Paint samples we mulled over when considering what color to paint the nursery

• Tickets and programs to various events I attended: a KU football game, an exhibit at the Wichita Art Museum, the Wichita Garden Show, Easter Sunday service, a speech at WSU by Schindler Jew Alexander White, Gridiron and a WSU baseball game

• Sheet music to "A Baby Changes Everything" from when I sang with a quartet at church before Christmas

• The "Don't tell us" name tags we wore during our sonogram to remind the sonographer that we wanted the baby's gender to be a surprise

• Nearly 50 greeting cards from friends and family in seven states

• Homemade signs announcing the week of my pregnancy for my baby bump pictures

• Two pink deflated "boobie balloons" from a breastfeeding class Brian & I took together (Blown up, they explain the anatomy of a breast. My theory? They're a shameless ploy to get husbands to accompany their wives to the class. It worked. The class was just one in a series we took this spring.)
  

• A sparkly "Mommy-to-be" sash from the baby shower my sisters threw for me in March

• A 42.5-inch-long multicolor piece of yarn that my friend (and mom to a brand new baby born Thursday) Lindsey exactly guessed would encircle my preggo belly during a game at a shower my friends threw for me in April

• Decorations, game pieces, invitations and mementos from both of those showers, including scrapbook pages thoughtfully signed by guests
  

• My first Mother's Day card and six romantic hand-written notes from the father of my child

• Business card-sized notes I designed, printed and included in my many thank-you notes inviting friends and family to follow Baby B. news online on this blog and on Twitter and to play in our online Baby B. guessing game

• A map of Botanica and a pine cone from our itty bitty babymoon

• Name tags I wore to various journalism events I attended this spring, including a Tweet-up and a regional high school journalism contest, where I volunteered as a judge
  

• Invitations for and thank-you notes from friends' wedding and baby showers that I attended while preggo (My friends, in turn, attended my baby showers, allowing us to celebrate our milestones together.)

Baby books

From coffee table to nightstand, a parenting book sits within reach of all of my favorite reading spots in our home. I've started a novel or two in the last few months but keep gravitating back to the baby books.

My friend Sarah loaned me a copy of the hilarious "Belly Laughs" by Jenny McCarthy. (Subhead: "The Naked Truth About Pregnancy and Childbirth" -- this book had me laughing at loud.) It reminded me not to apologize for enjoying the perks of the experience and commiserating in those more difficult aspects of pregnancy.



For my birthday, Brian gave me a copy of "Green Mama: The Guilt-Free Guide to Helping You and Your Kids Save the Planet" by Tracey Bianchi. I haven't finished it yet, but I love Bianchi's take on how spiritual life can influence a call to environmentalism.

Brian's been interested in the book, too, and we're both looking forward to teaching Roo about caring for Mother Nature.




When both our parenting class instructor and our pediatrician recommended that we read "The Happiest Baby on the Block" by Harvey Karp, Brian & I set out looking for a copy. I have mama friends who swear by the technique to calm a fussy baby. In part, I love reading it because it helps me imagine life with a newborn. Even though it'll inevitably include sleepless nights, stressful bouts of crying and the like, I cannot wait.

I, of course, intend to take the tips, suggestions, ideas and advice with a grain of salt. They worked for the authors, but we'll have to see if they work for us. Granted, I've been pummeled with advice (both solicited and entirely unwanted) since my baby bump made its debut. (What is it about a preggo belly that says, "Entire society, please step right up and give me an earful. I'd love to hear your soapbox speech right here, right now in the middle of the church foyer, the produce section, the work elevator, etc.")

I guess the bottom line is this: We still haven't mastered the whole baby-raising business or there wouldn't be the supply and demand of these books -- and the endless stream of "what you really need to do". Maybe I should shove all of the books aside and just stick with The Beatles' Blue Album lyrics. I at least plan to hum them to myself during the 3 a.m. feedings that lie ahead:

"There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.

There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need."

Homerun derby

Brian is playing on the church softball team again this year. (Click to view a post from last May.) We thought he'd have to sit the first few weeks out enjoying his job as the daddy of a newborn, but Roo's tardiness allowed us to enjoy an evening at the ballpark Thursday. It was a little chilly, I was stung by a bee and the team lost the second game of its doubleheader, but it was really a beautiful night nonetheless.

Brian said that he'll be proud to tell our kiddo that Daddy hit a homer and went six-for-six. I think there will be one more in the cheering section the next time Brian steps up to the plate.

Boy or girl?

Here's the current boy-girl breakdown on our Baby B. guessing game. (If you haven't taken it, it's not too late: just click to get started.)

• Boy: 60.7 percent
• Girl: 39.3 percent

And here are some answers to our most frequently-asked gender-related questions:

Q. Which gender would you prefer?
A. Either. Honestly. Brian and I talk about what life would be like with a boy or a girl. We love either scenario. And part of us will be thrilled -- and just a little disappointed -- either way. We both figure that our daughter could be a star athlete or our son could be a music prodigy. The gender isn't really the important thing here. The opportunity to welcome a child into our family is.

Q. Which do you think you're going to have?
A. Our hunches have changed throughout pregnancy. And sometimes we disagree on which gender our child will be. More times than not, though, we'd put our money on a boy.

Q. What will you name him or her?
A. We've had first and middle names for a boy and a girl selected for months. We love both for different reasons. And we're not telling. We likely won't even tell our families until after we've been able to spend some quiet quality time with our little one immediately after birth to make sure we're still 100 percent sure about our top choices.

Q. What will he or she wear in those early days?
A. Baby B. has a healthy stock of adorable gender-neutral clothing. But Brian and I did take a special shopping trip in which we selected a sweet pink dress and a strapping blue pants-and-shirt outfit special for the first trip home. (Yes, both selections have been pre-washed and are packed and ready for that dash to the hospital ... whenever it may come.)