When Pixie was born, my water broke before labor got motivated, which meant there wasn’t any question about whether or not we had to go to the hospital. When your water breaks, that’s the sac that’s keeping your little one protected from all of the nasties in the outside world so Baby’s risk of infection if not delivered within 24 hours goes way up.
This time around, there was weeks of contractions (and plenty of other misery). Were they frequent enough? Did they hurt enough? Did they last long enough? It’s not like in the movies, where the expectant mom serenly wakes her husband in the wee hours of the morning with the wise proclamation: It’s time.
Except for the early morning part. That part has been consistent for us so far. So at 2 am I was doing the usual uncomfortable tossing and turning, at 3 am I was AWAKE OMG, by 4 am we were en route to Labor and Delivery, and by lunchtime we had our little chap (and momma’s legs were waking up from the epidural, and I’ll just note that I’m a huge fan of the epidural block! #justsayin).
Daddy, aka the Hubbles, has dubbed Baby Boy our little chap – or Chappy. I feel like he needs a little tweed newsboy hat with that nickname, and I am totally okay with that.
Of course, if I find little infant hipster glasses somewhere, Daddy might ban me from dressing the baby unsupervised.
Pixie loves being a big sister, sometimes too much. She wants to be able to hold him, feed him, give him his pacifier, and use his nasal aspirator. She’s not even two yet, though, so there’s a lot of helping her help him, and a lot of compromise. As you can imagine, what toddler doesn’t love to compromise? Right. There’s some jealousy too, but Pixie has already been learning a lot about sharing and taking turns from her local cousins. She’s been a little extra crabby this week, but the poor kid is sick (as we all are now…) on top of everything else, so it’s been a crazy time for her. She’s doing really well with taking her turn on our laps though (and there’s finally more room for her again on Momma’s lap!) and, well… Just generally being a Big Sister and a Big Girl.
Though: she can grow up all she likes, but she’ll still always be My Baby.
Yay! I’m glad Pixie is enjoying being a Big Sister. She can wear the Big Sister badge I sent her with pride! (Give her another year and she’ll be blaming Chappy for mischief *she’s* caused) ;D
Grandpa Animal already has some camouflage togs for the young man.
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