crying like a baby

I promise we're equipped to be parents. 

But she just looked so cute sitting there at a 90 degree angle.

Obviously, Margaret has yet to grasp the "for the sake of cuteness" concept.

the cutest

Emma: "Maggie is never allowed to grow up. She's only allowed to stay little and cute."

Ellie: "I need to be near Maggie or I won't survive."

Maggie loves you, too, girls. As does your Auntie Breezy. 

P.S. At one point, Margaret was surrounded by family, and so Ellie came over to me and said, "Since I can't sit by Maggie, I'm going to sit by her owner." Pretty much melted my heart.

so ... labor (part 2)

We met our first nurse, a smiley brunette who welcomed us to the first day of the rest of our lives. (OK, that's a lie. She said nothing of the sort.) She was nearing the end of her shift, but she decided to start my IV before our assigned nurse arrived. 

Have you ever had an IV? 

Ouch. That is all. 

But then along came Paula. The nurse of all nurses. The miracle to our birth. The peanut butter to our M&M.

Translation: We love her.

And with that lovely lady in scrubs, we got the party started. 

Pitocin? Check.

Epidural? Check, sweet check. 

Water broken? Weirdest check ever.

The waiting game had officially begun. For the next four hours, Adam and I shifted our eyes from each other to the computer screen, which charted the baby's heartbeat and my contractions.

Everything was looking great, until our little Margaret decided to make things interesting.

I'd have a contraction ... her heart rate would fall. I'd have another contraction ... her heart rate would fall. Contraction ... fall. Contraction ... fall. And so on and scary forth.

I hated it.

Thankfully, Paula and my doctor were on the case. They were attentive and cautious — but not alarming. Our baby either had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, they said, or the placenta had stopped working as effectively as it should. Whatever it was, Adam and I proceeded to whisper short prayers for Maggie to catch her breath. 

When the clock ticked 3:30 p.m., it was time to push. Armed with Adam and Paula on either side of me, I felt like the mother of all women (pun perfection intended). I was calm and peaceful (thank you, prayer) and mostly just felt excited to meet the little soul who would come to call me mom.

For the next hour, Paula continually counted to 10 while I pushed and Adam smiled words of encouragement.

"This is so fun!" I remember saying to Adam. And it really, really was.

Maggie's heart rate had been holding up pretty well under the pressure, but at circa 4:31 p.m., her heart rate fell too far for the doctor's liking, and it was time for Maggie to travel from womb to world — and fast.

So at 4:33 p.m., we officially met Margaret Diane Stewart, a 7-pound-15 oz. bluish-purple beauty. The cord was indeed wrapped snugly around her neck. But with swift work, the doctor had her crying and on my chest while Adam cut the cord.

Maggie's crying was the sweetest thing I've ever heard. It meant we were all breathing, she was here and Adam and I were finally parents.

And as I held her in my arms, I swear I heard her crying, "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives, folks."

True story.

so ... labor (part 1)

Where do you begin when talking about the day that changed your life forever? I suppose at the very beginning — a very good place to start. 

We woke up at 6 a.m. to wait for the hospital's call. I was second on the "induction wait list" for April 27, and I've never prayed so hard for the women of Utah Valley to cease going into labor naturally. After four weeks of doctors telling me it was going to happen "any second" and that they "couldn't believe" I hadn't gone into labor yet, it was my turn to have a baby. It was so my turn.

We got the call at 8:21 a.m. that we were clear to come in at 10 a.m.

"Are you still planning on the induction today?" the nurse asked.

"Yes! We'll be there!" I half-yelled, half-giggled, half-cried (subtlety hath no place in a perpetually pregnant woman's world).

"Well, OK then!" she said.

Well, OK then.

After showering and doing my hair (a delightful benefit of being induced), making sure our "go bag" was go-worthy, and kneeling in prayer, we pulled up to the hospital at 9:45 a.m.

It was joyously surreal. I had always imagined making my way through those doors — one arm clutching my stomach, the other piercing Adam's arm with nails I had meant to trim but never got around to. Instead, I gently held Adam's hand, gave him a nervous smile as he pressed level three in the elevator, and patted a kicking Margaret in my belly for the last time.

We checked in with the nurses, and they assigned us a room — complete with a gorgeous view of the snow-capped mountains and the Mount Timpanogos Temple. I put on my gown and sat on the side of the bed, my legs swinging back and forth like a first-grader.

"So, I guess we're having a baby today?" Adam said, looking all cute.

"We're having a baby."

(To be continued ...)

more maggie

Just a couple more shots of our brown-haired beauty. (The brown — and frankly the hair in general — shocked us, too.)

We completely adore her, and she's been been an absolutely delightful baby. We really couldn't ask for a better wee one to introduce us to this crazy thing called parenthood.

Thanks for the well wishes, everyone! We love you all. 

Don't mind the giant scratch on her upper lip. She didn't so much like the sponge bath my mom and I gave her (limbs were a-flailing).

See what I mean?

All better.