Welcome to the world, Baby Boy, Part 1

First, I'm sorry I haven't written to you in so very long.  Please know that I was loving you and thinking of you and preparing for you every day!  When I was pregnant with your sister, I was free to rest whenever but the second time around is much harder in that regard.  She is, as of this writing, a very active, very chatty little person filled with light and energy, and keeping up with her and my work until nap time most days has been all that I could manage for the six to eight weeks.  I was just so ridiculously tired most days, but your dad was, as usual, very understanding, and took care of all sorts of things around here so I could rest as much as possible.

There's also not been much to write because pregnancy with you has been uneventful and pretty easy!  About 36 weeks or so, I had a touch of anemia, but I jumped right on that and improved it in just a couple weeks, and during the last few weeks, my blood pressure crept up a bit, which meant even more taking it easy, but otherwise, no real pains, no complications or concerns, easy peasy. Every now and then, I'd think, "How long has it been since he moved?!" and would panic a little bit and jostle you around.  Then you'd squirm in irritation, I'd breathe a big sigh of relief and we'd both go back to what we were doing.

And I think I've just been more introspective because as I mentioned before, this time I knew just how impossible it is to imagine how terrific you'd be when you actually arrived, and I was right!  So, while I still remember things, let me tell you what that was like....

The week of November 11th, I wasn't feeling great.  Not really bad - just some bouts of false labor (three hours of that on Sunday night) and feeling tired and sore.  More than a few mornings, I'd had to lie in bed for a few minutes before getting up, just mentally encouraging myself that I could, in fact, get through another day.  Most days, by the time I lugged your sister up the stairs for her nap, I was counting the steps as I went and I'd come back downstairs and collapse for a bit.

I'd been managing to rally a bit in the evenings, get some work done, get up before your dad got home, start dinner, play with Nora..., and Thursday evening wasn't any different.  I made pancakes for dinner (easy and leftovers to freeze for later), talked to your grandfather just after dinner, around 7:00, because he'd been calling every day, multiple times a day to ask me if I felt labor was imminent.  (Do not ask a woman this.  She doesn't necessarily know.  People kept telling me that I'd know when it was time, but I really didn't, or at least I didn't know hours and hours in advance.  If I knew anything useful, I'd have shared it!)  Then I read to your sister after her bath, and during stories, I had a few contractions and was mentally preparing myself for an evening of false labor, thinking that it would likely get better if I got up and moved a little bit.  (For some reason, I never expected you'd arrive early.)  Because we thought it was likely that I'd have a quick labor, your dad texted Amy, our midwife, to let her know that I was having some random contractions, just so she could be on alert, and he made sure we were all set to fill the birthing tub when the time came....