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Showing posts from May, 2009

What a Difference a Day Makes.

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Bring it.

I have said it 100 times, and I will say it 100 more.

Pregnancy is not for sissies.

I have a small addage.

Labor is not for sissies.
Delivery is not for sissies.

That being said, labor and delivery should be something you do for and with someone you love. I learned a few things about the Cagles during our long forty three hour process to bring Eileen into this world.

We are better as a team than we are as individuals. Where I lacked strength to continue on after the magnesium zapped my energy and the epidural ran out (more than once), it took Husband telling me to press on to know that I could do it.

When the plan changes, the Cagles can change with the plan. We did not plan on giving birth Tuesday, May 26-- but we adapted. When Tuesday came and went without Eileen, we came and went with it. Two hours of pushing for a "normal" delivery (that "V" word gets used a little too much on this wing) proved that would not be part of our plan. 2am Wednesday morning found o…

no time for words... it's feeding time!

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What starts out as average...

Days that change your life start out like any other day. I cannot remember the day I met Husband. But, from the moment I knew him, I never forgot him.

In hindsight, I remember the day he proposed to me. We were at our beach house and spent the whole day basking in the sun. We ate sushi at Islamorada Fish Co. and drank Natural Light in the middle of a horrible thunderstorm that kept knocking out the power. It was just… an average July day, that 15th in 2006. And it was as comfortable as when you were small and crawled into your grandmother’s lap to fall asleep to the scent of her perfume, Beautiful.

The day we decided that two should become three started like any other day. It was a Friday in late May. Husband was cooking on the grill and I had set the table outside with a bright plaid tablecloth and Vietri fish china with matching wine glasses. Appetizers of hummus and pita chips & a fantastic piece of seared tuna with sesame seeds. Not to mention the wine in the marble cooler. I br…

One Down

And then there were three.

Catherine gave birth two weeks ago to bouncing Noah. Precious and adorable, I cannot wait to cover our fridge with more pictures of another nephew! That makes three babies for the Rouses. Three perfect little sets of ten fingers, ten toes, and two ears.

Mary Margaret, sweet and precious Mai gave birth this morning at 3:45 to Clayton. I saw and held him when he was less then seven hours old. Eli, stoic and fatherly, sat on the couch and watched us as we cooed and discussed epidurals, birthing, and all the unpleasantries that bring new babies into this world.

All that's left are Blake, Laura, and little ole' me. One by one, we are coming to the end. Of the three, my due date is the soonest at eighteen days. Laura trails by 7 and Blake by 9. Mai came a week early.

And sweet Faris is due in October, and Kristen in July, and and and and... it seems there is something in the water.

Wish us luck!

What?

I remember being 6 weeks pregnant. No bump, drinking O'Doul's and no one knew.

I remember being 16 weeks pregnant. Broken foot, hellaciously uncomfortable and my, er, dare-ee-air was growing faster than my stomach.

I remember being 26 weeks pregnant. Still throwing up, getting more energy and Poppy was no longer a Poppy, she was an Eileen.

Never was the end in sight.

I am 36 weeks pregnant. If Husband breaths the word waddling, he knows death is imminent.

At 6, 16, and 26 weeks though, there was a difference.

I was not contracting.

A gander in my uterus revealed LMC was hanging pretty upside down, hand still in front of her face, kicking the sides of her fishbowl, and letting Christy (the ultrasounder) know that she was not pleased to have someone sneaking a peek inside. Afterwards, we headed over to IGOR's domain. Ange has been coming with me to my weekly ultrasounds and non-stress tests as Husband cannot take that much time away from work. He meets us in Erin's waiting roo…

The Bag.

There are things I wish that someone had told me before I was thrown into the fire...

I wish someone had told me that it would not be cool to wear your first sorority t-shirt to your first sorority function. Wear something way cooler than you should. Even if you are just going bowling.
I wish someone had told me to have a bad-ass speech prepared for your brother's wedding.
I wish someone had told me to pack for the honeymoon before the rehearsal dinner instead of after the wedding.
I wish someone had told me baking soda on a sunburn is a very bad idea, not a good one.
I wish someone had told me pewter should not be cleaned with silver polish.
I wish someone had told me you should never use cheap blonde hair dye from a box. EVER.
I wish someone had told me that there is a difference in Italian sausage & Kielbasa sausage, as it will definitely effect the taste of dinner.

But, I do know one thing without being told: before you go to the hospital, you pack your bag.

This...bag... is somet…