Crossing the finish line

Operation Baby Gage reached the finish line (or the starting block depending on how you look at it) Tuesday, February 11th at 5:56 am. Arlo Miller Gage decided to join us weighing in a hearty 8lbs 8oz and at an astounding 23.75" long. No wonder I couldn't breathe or eat at the end of my pregnancy!

Before I jump into the details, get a load of this kid:

Arlo was one week overdue and since we had a very accurate due date thanks to our IVF timeline, our doctor agreed we were good to induce at 6:30am on the 11th. Monday the 10th we had one final check at my OB's office and she requested we go ahead and check in at the hospital that evening so they could administer some ripening medication overnight to help with dilation prior to the induction. We checked in and got set up in our L&D room and met our nurses who took such loving care of us.

One of our nurses mentioned that sometimes the ripening meds can actually trigger labor and I was hoping that would be the case for us. I really didn't want to have to rely on pitocin to start a long and intense labor. Turns out I got my wish. After being dosed, contractions hit full swing, just 1 minute apart. With only about 20 seconds between contractions I was ready to call in the cavalry and opted for a blessed epidural. Hallelujah. I was able to rest for about an hour when I realized it was go time. I let my nurse know that I felt the need to push and sure enough I was ready. 7 minutes later Arlo's first cries pierced the room and my heart and life have been forever changed.

I am obviously writing this blog in a new mommy fog. We've been home two days now and are working to adjust to the new normalcy of sleep deprivation (note the time stamp on this blog), counting poop and pee diapers, and just marveling at this incredible person we are entrusted to care for and raise.

I can not say enough about my husband. I have seen an amazingly tender side of him that I always knew was there, but seeing it unfold has been no less touching. Watching him fall in love with his son is beautiful and I can't imagine a better partner. He is doting and makes sure I'm eating enough, hydrated, and sleeping as much as possible. 

So there you have it. Our birth story. I am tired, overjoyed, hormonal, giddy, sore, and at moments overwhelmed by how much I love this tiny person. (Yep, you guessed it, I'm crying while typing this). 

Operation Baby Gage will continue. It was always my hope that this blog would evolve from an infertility blog, to a pregnancy blog and now into a chronicle of our journey as new parents. Infertility is still a huge part of our story and will continue to be in the future. I am passionate about fertility issues and will continue to blog about them as well, but the focus of our world is shifting. Thank you to all of you who have walked this journey with us (physically or virtually).

40+ Weeks...Eviction Notice

Alright kiddo. Let me paint a picture for you. Your mom and dad are so ready to meet you. We have moved into a new home and decorated a sweet pad for you. You have a plethora of cuddly blankets, stimulating toys, organic cotton diapers to pamper your bum, adorable clothes to keep you comfy (all pre-washed in safe, non-toxic laundry soap) and four arms ready to hold you. 

I have dusted, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, pre-made frozen dinners and washed every stitch of dirty laundry in this house to give us a leg up once you arrive. You really should get here so you can see your home this clean. It probably won't be this orderly again until you're old enough to help with chores!

Everyone keeps telling me to enjoy this time with you in my belly before you arrive and I'm trying. Unfortunately, you are waking me every 45 minutes at night with an urgent bathroom run, a kick to the ribs, or just plain old fun heartburn. Mama is officially bleary-eyed and would much rather be awake at night nursing you and looking at you than bemoaning the not-so-fun side effects of late pregnancy.

As much as we fought for this pregnancy, I feel selfish to complain this late in the game, but I'm doing it. This hasn't just been a 40 week process. It's actually been 338 weeks of waiting to meet you and bring you home to our family. Don't keep your mama waiting much longer. We are READY (or as ready as any first time parents can be).  So this missive serves as your eviction notice. It's time to come meet the world and all the people who love you! 

Anxiously Awaiting Arlo

39 weeks. We are in the homestretch little man. I wanted to take a few minutes to write to you about how I'm feeling before our entire world turns upside down in a very joyous way. 

Right now I'm so eager and anxious to meet you. Sitting here feeling your knees and elbows poke and prod my belly literally makes me giddy thinking I'll be holding those tiny arms and legs very soon! Following our child birth class I was worried and nervous about the birth process, but now I'm just so excited to meet you and hold you, I'm just about over the nerves. I wish I knew exactly when you will arrive, your mama is an advance planner, something you will learn all too well!

My nesting overdrive has kicked in and your daddy is making me take it easy and rest as much as possible. I'm beginning to have what I think are Braxton Hicks contractions. Nothing regular or rhythmic enough to suggest this is the real deal, but enough to clue me in that the end/beginning is near! 

You are "due" in just 5 days and I'm secretly hoping you will arrive a little early. Your dad has joked that if you come during the Super Bowl this Sunday the birth certificate form may need to be changed to "Peyton Manning Gage" instead of your agreed upon moniker. Don't worry, that's not going to happen. :) 

When I'm not nesting or working, I've been reading everything I can get my hands on. Pregnancy books, birthing books, breastfeeding books, newborn care books, even blogs on how to deal with the poop factor in your adorable cloth diapers. I still haven't wrapped my mind around that one yet.

Last week I read through every blog entry since creating this site and marveled at the incredible journey we have been on together. I do not take for granted for a moment the miraculous nature of your very existence. I feel so fortunate and lucky to have walked through the last 9 months with you. The medications, shots, blood draws, cramps, heartburn, sleepless nights, backaches and worry have all led us to this moment, counting down the days until we see your sweet face.

Come when you're ready, but don't wait too long. We can't wait to meet you!

36 Weeks!

Tuesday Ken and I went to our OB for our 36 week ultrasound and check up. This was the first time we've both seen the little guy since our 20 week ultrasound. For those of you who have been through IF treatment you know you get used to seeing that little grayscale image every couple of weeks in the beginning, so to go 16 weeks without a glimpse has been a little tough. I have to keep reminding myself that our mother's generation didn't even have ultrasounds (or the internet) to get them through pregnancy. I shudder at the thought!

Our boy is measuring at 6.5lbs and is right around the 50th percentile for size at this point in the pregnancy. He should gain about half a pound / week leading up to birth so we're looking at a 7.5 - 8.0 lb baby. Our ultrasound tech said he's going to be a tall one too. His head is WAY down there (something I know all too well with my frequent bathroom breaks) and his feet and bottom are all the way up under my rib cage. Future basketball player? Track star? Starting QB for the Denver Broncos? Yes, those have all entered my mind. :) 

His heartbeat was strong and everything looks healthy and good to go! Perhaps the most exciting part of the ultrasound was that we finally got to see his face. In every other ultrasound he has played coy, put his hands up, or stubbornly turned around so that the most expert sonographer could not capture a profile or face shot. 

See how handsome he is already?! (Mothers are entitled to be biased even this early, right?)

It looks like he's going to have some chubby, kissable cheeks. Perhaps the most adorable thing was seeing him move his lips and mouth during the ultrasound. The entire time he looked like he was desperately trying to find a pacifier. Sweetest thing ever. And yes, I cried, because that's what I do. I'm seriously going to be a wreck the first time I hold him in the delivery room.

This weekend Ken and I have a 2-day intensive and comprehensive birthing and lamaze class to hopefully get us ready for the wild ride we will be embarking on in the next few weeks. 

We are in the final countdown and I may be going a little nuts on the nesting front. Next on the to-do list? Prepping a slew of frozen meals to get us through the first few week's of Arlo's life. If you have a tried and true recipe from the "freezes beautifully" section of your favorite cookbook, please comment and share (Yes that was a Steel Magnolias reference)!

Neuroses

Baby Arlo,

I'd like to start this missive with a bit of a confession. Your mother is sometimes (only sometimes) neurotic. Mainly when it comes to you, your well-being and care. I'm not sure if that will be soothing to you or terrifying, but you need to know that your mama can be a bit overly concerned about you. I would like to think that once you are here in my arms that some of these tendencies will calm down, but let's face it, they will likely only increase. I'll worry over a cough, or a runny nose, or your first scraped knee for at least the first several months of your life until I realize that you are strong and a trooper and able to bounce back from the inevitable boo-boos of life.

I'm not sure if my neuroses are due to the fact that it took SO long for us to get to you or if this is something that plagues all mommies. (I'd be interested in feedback on that one) I worried through bed rest that you in your tiny fragile embryonic state would nestle in and stay with us. I worried once we got our positive beta results that we would make it to see a healthy heartbeat at 7 weeks. I worried once we passed the hurdle of the first trimester that your sequential screening results would come back normal. I worried (sensing a pattern here?) through the second trimester anxious to feel your first movements and kicks.  And just when you think you're in the home stretch and that there isn't much to worry about anymore, your OB tells you about kick counts.

I woke myself from a deep slumber a few weeks ago worried that I hadn't felt you move as much that day. I walked around the living room and poked and prodded my belly until you sprang awake and started kicking me with full force (probably in an attempt to get me to leave you the hell alone). Lord help us, I've been a worry-wart, much to your father's consternation. 

Last night I had a wonderful dream. You were about 1 week old. I was running an errand (who am I kidding, I will likely not be venturing out with a 1 week old) to the store and I took you out of your carrier and you were happily snuggled in the crook of my arm. In that moment there was peace, no neurotic panic, no worries about your well-being, just a content baby boy in the arms of his mama.

I cannot wait to meet you and with just 5 more weeks until your due date I am sincerely going to focus on letting go of the worry and embracing the fact that you are real, and here with me. I love you so much already!

Mom

Overwhelmed (In a good way!)

Last Sunday 5 of my friends hosted what I will now term as the most adorable baby shower ever. I was surrounded by sweet family and friends, a bounty of delicious food, and more gifts for this little boy than I could have dreamed. Towards the end of the shower I decided to let everyone in on the baby name that we have been closely guarding for the last 8 months.

As I shared his name with the group and saw their excitement, I was immediately overwhelmed and burst into my own special brand of not-so-pretty-happy-crying. The enormity of the moment hit me. For over 6 years I have dreamed of being pregnant. I have dreamed of my baby shower. I have dreamed of being a mommy. At times I thought this just wasn't in the cards for me. Sitting there in the seat of honor with 20 women oohing and ahhing over the teeniest tiniest clothes that MY BABY will soon wear just overwhelmed me. 

I was so grateful for the women around the room and touched by their generosity. Especially for my friend Jill, who in addition to hosting "the most adorable baby shower ever" in her home, has walked alongside me through our infertility journey (all 6 years of it!). Spurring me on, consoling me when treatment failed, cheering for me in our success and always telling me what a great mommy I will be. This is what a champion looks like:

The day flew by much like my wedding day did in a flurry of hugs and well wishes. I left feeling so loved and knowing that this little boy has a posse of southern ladies at his back. Watch out world! 

In the midst of my joy I thought of the women I have encountered through my blog who have encouraged me, and celebrated with me even though they are still struggling in the trenches with the monster called infertility. I am thinking of each of you (Amanda, Jess, Jessah) and praying for your happy news and special days to be coming very soon. 

And in case you were wondering, Baby Gage's name is Arlo Miller and we have just 8 more weeks to go until we get to meet him!

Saying Goodbye

I started this blog to document our quest to bring a baby into this world and so far it has served as a wonderful therapeutic outlet and hopefully someday will be something I can point at to show our son just how wanted he was. Even though this post has little to do with Baby Gage, it does allow me the chance to say farewell to my first baby, my furbaby.

Miss Laney

This week has been a particularly rough and emotional one. It culminated yesterday in saying goodbye to my 14 year old toy fox terrier, Laney. I adopted Laney over Christmas break during my junior year at Texas A&M, much to my parents initial protestations. In hindsight, their rationale was correct. I was only 20 years old, I wasn't home often, I was a full time student. What kind of dog parent would I be? I know they fully anticipated me seeing the error of my ways in a few short months and bringing this high energy puppy back to their doorstep pleading with them to take care of her for me. 

What happened instead was this little one wormed her hyperactive way into my heart. In fact, within two weeks of adopting Laney she literally saved my life. While attempting to housebreak her in my tiny college apartment, I was keeping her in a kennel at night while I slept. One January morning around 2am, she woke me barking, crying, and pawing at her kennel door. I begrudgingly got up to get her leash to take her outside to find my living room windows aglow with fire. The apartment across the hall from me was in flames and those flames were quickly making their way to me. I grabbed Laney, my car keys and my purse and we fled the apartment. No fire alarms sounded or smoke detectors, but Miss Laney's alarm was loud and clear. From that moment on, my parents looked at her as the angel who saved their baby girl and were thrilled that I had found such a loyal companion. 

In the years following Laney saw me through college exams, graduation, boyfriend heartbreak, new jobs, and 11 moves in 14 years. She perhaps has thrived the most in the last 8 years since I met the man who is now my husband. Ken is an animal lover and in addition to loving my crazy little dog just as much as I did, he worked with her and trained her. Always a smart girl, Laney picked up a whole new vocabulary and a slew of fun games and tricks. This photo was taken by Ken last week when I was away in Denver. I love the pensive "waiting for momma" look in their eyes!

The beauty of this 10 lb girl was not just in her fun, high energy personality and eagerness to greet her people at the end of the day, but in her tenderness. Like many dogs, she had the ability to sense my moods and care for me. She curled up next to me when I cried after our initial infertility diagnosis, snuggled me when I fell apart after our failed IUI, and was the most excellent bed rest partner following our IVF (see exhibit A).

Exhibit A

We knew we wouldn't have her forever, and over the last few months more and more signs pointed to the fact that she was struggling. A lump on her side, whimpers of discomfort, and in the end some pretty scary seizures that left her confused and scared. Our girl had cancer that had spread to her brain. Having recently moved, we reached out to my parent's vet and he was able to not only discuss how to cease her suffering, but was willing to make a house call so Laney could pass in peace at home surrounded by lots of love. 

A good friend of mine may have put it best when she said that Laney had been a good companion and knew that I was going to be surrounded with the love of a new little one soon. Her timing was to make room for my new joys and responsibilities to come as a mommy. 

Ken and I both feel a peace that we made the right call and have saved her unnecessary additional pain and suffering. I'm sure she is happily chasing cottontail rabbits in the great puppy hereafter, but it's still a tough adjustment. Just yesterday afternoon while picking up some groceries, we both passed the pet supply aisle and for just a moment thought about picking up some treats for her. The house is sadly much more quiet without the click-clack of her tiny nails across the tile floor as she skittered over to greet us when we would walk in. 

We will remember her as our little girl, our trial kid and our fur baby with such warm memories. Thanks for teaching me responsibility, how to care for someone other than just myself, and how to receive unconditional love. You are missed.