Double doctor visit

So today the babes had their first "double appointment". The idea of taking an energetic 2 year old and a massive 6 month old to the doctor just sounded daunting so I asked my mom to come along to help. She was a huge help during our very long appointment. She held Patrick while I kept an eye on Hartley and talked to the doctor. It was also nice to have her there because my mom spends a lot of time with Hartley so I felt she could also offer helpful input for the doctor. 

I finally requested to have a certain doctor when I made the appointment. The doctor I choose to see is my favorite at the practice - very calm, relaxed attitude but certainly not dismissive, an extremely important balance to me. She's also great with Hartley. 

I kicked off the appointment by talking to her about my concerns regarding Hartley's "language". I'm using the word language because I hadn't been able to pinpoint my concerns in one word but the doctor Hartley saw last referred to it as language development. I brought the list of words Hartley knows like they asked. She conservatively knows and can say over 150 words. 

The doctor had no concerns about her word count. She actually said certain things were advanced. She said Hartley knowing her alphabet and counting is actually something they discuss at the 3 year appointment! 

But the concerns with Hartley are her inability to respond to her name, inability to answer certain questions (not quizzing her vocabulary questions, she obviously does that well), not doing parallel play with other kids, not forming many 2-3 word phrases, not using "me/my/I/mine, and just generally not being very social (the doctor observed and said this).

The appointment took a long time so it wasn't just me answering these questions - the doctor was able to observe Hartley for herself.

She referred me to the county to have Hartley assessed. 

Now this wasn't some earth-shattering, all the dark clouds roll in type of moment. I didn't cry or freak out. But let's get real, it sucks to hear that your kid isn't doing things their peers are doing. Everyone wants their kid to be progressing normally. For me, in the past well visits were about finding out my kids' percentiles and admitting to a doctor that I suck at getting her to eat vegetables. The waiting room usually takes longer than the appointment itself, we get chik-fil-a on the way home and I post a Facebook picture saying "yay! My kid did great at the doctor!" 

I'm not used to walking out with a referral to the county because my child has an "expressive language delay". 

My personal philosophy is that everyone learns different things at different rates (not just babies -adults, too!), and I'm okay if my kid is slower in certain areas. I'm truly fine with things taking more time to develop. But with that said, I also think being proactive with her being assessed and with her learning is very important. My biggest job in life is preparing my kids for the world, and I'll do whatever I have to to build a good foundation for that. 

But, yeah, it sucks and it hurts a little. 

On to Patrick. I laughed as I wrote these last three words because I definitely thought everything was fine with Patrick. Obviously most people know that there is an issue with one of Patrick's kidneys, so I figured they'd touch on that and tell me not to over feed him because he's massive. 

He weighed 25 pounds, 10 ounces. If you know babies, you know that is huge- 99th percentile. He's 81st for height. Nothing ground-breaking there. 

Anyway, he was diagnosed with mild hypotonia, a fancy way of saying his muscle tone isn't great. He can lift his head but he tends to slump over a lot. He can't sit up on his own. His legs tend to collapse under him. It's very hard for a 6 month old baby to support so much weight. People with small babies don't know this but a giant baby is going to have trouble doing certain things because they have to support so much more weight. People love Patrick's size because its adorable but it truly is very challenging to have a baby that big, and you can't understand it unless you've had a really big baby. It's harder to carry him around and hold him out to have him use his legs. 

They recommended using a bumbo seat. His thighs literally don't fit in a bumbo seat. They recommending holding him and having him push down with his legs. They recommended using an exersaucer. I'm also going to try doing more supported sitting and tummy time for him. Brian and I are hoping this can correct itself over time with "exercise". It's such a shitty thing to hear though. Hartley definitely didn't have these issues but I think she weighed like 7 or 8 less pounds than Patrick at 6 months, which is a huge weight difference for babies only half a year old. 

My mom called a bit ago to say she felt like she wasn't sensitive enough today. She totally was though. 

The truth is, some of this makes me feel like a shit bag of a mother. It really does. It blows. But that said, I have a lot on my plate every day of my life. Falling apart or being sad aren't really luxuries I cannafford. 

So we'll move on from today, tuck it behind us. I'll try to have Patrick exercise, and I'll wait to hear back from the people who will come out to conduct the assessment. Um, major bonus points for ths being free and that they come out to your house! 

And at the end of the day, even if life isn't always perfect, I'm so thankful for my two relatively healthy children. There are far worse case scenarios, and even if this hurdle is a big one for us right now, I'm grateful it's not something worse. 

"Behind"

Brian took Hartley to the doctor on Saturday because she wasn't acting like herself. It turned out to just be cold but while he was there he got some news no parent wants to hear. The doctor said Hartley's language seemed behind.

Now I will say, Hartley knows ALOT, I actually think shes very intelligent for her age, but she definitely doesn't use her language very socially. She talks the most with me but around others she talks very little or babbles. The doctor was concerned with her babbling and said half of what Hartley says should be understandable to strangers. 

She asked Brian to have us write down the things Hartley says and bring it in to her two year check up next week.

Now I've been losing sleep over this - worrying that my child is behind. I'll admit before the doctor said this it has crossed my mind that there's a possibility that Hartley is on the spectrum. I flip flop between that possibility and this just being her personality. 

She's been very independent since birth. And while she does engage people she's generally most interested in doing her own thing. She lines things up. Shes very interested in numbers and counting. And my biggest concern - she rarely responds to her name. 

I'm starting to compile my list. I figured I'd share this - partially as therapy but partially as a record.

Here goes the list. 

Words Hartley knows and phrases she uses by catergories: 

- knows numbers up to 20 (she knows sequences but also out of context)
- knows alphabet (same as above)

Foods she knows:

Apple juice
Milk (nilk)
Waffle (faffle)
Banana (bah-nina)
Apple

Apple sauce
Corn
Green beans 
Hot dog
Cheese
Cheetos
Chips
Cookie
Cake
Crackers
Lemon (lemmie)
Eggs (eggies)

Pizza

Mac n cheese
Cup
Fork

Shapes:
Star
Circle
Octagon 

Colors:
Black (back)
White 
Brown
Pink
Purple
Green (geen)
Blue
Red
Orange

Yellow
(Says the word "colors" to refer to markers and crayons) 

People:

Mommy
Daddy
Poppy
Nana (Nina)
Winnie (our dog)
Nutty (my parents' dog)
Baby (has said Patrick a few times)

Anatomy:
Eyes
Nose
Mouth
Ears
Belly button (calls Be-boo)
(Knows where all of these are on herself, others and stuffed animals)

Words:
Hi
Bye bye
Good night (can say good night mommy/daddy)
Go to sleep (she says this then lays down and pretends to snore)
Asleep

Open
Help
More _______
More please
Wait
Stuck
Yeah 
No
Stop
Outside
Boots
Shoes
Sunglasses

Hat
Coat
Brush
School bus
Plane
Truck
Car
Choo choo (train)
Poo poo in dipe
Pee pee in dipe (dipe for diaper)
Sun

House

Ball

Flower
Ghost 
Witch

Hug

Kiss

"Good girl" - she says to us when we tell her no and then she does the right thing

Outside things:
Rock
Leaf
Slide
Pumpkin

Butterfly (fly) 

Animals and their sounds:
Cat
Kitty
Dog
Pup
Doggie
Horse
Cow
Pig
Owl
Sheep
Goat
Cheetah (very random!)
Frog (fog)
Bat

Monkey

Bear

Woof
Meow
Neigh
Baa
Moo
Ribbit
Hoo

Can request certain books, i.e. Will say "Five Black Cats" (favorite book) 

Knows pieces of songs and will sing very short phases, 1-3 word (ranges from toddler songs to Taylor swift - "bad blood")

Characters: 
Elmo
Cookie
Abby
Oscar
All Paw Patrol Characters
Some bubble guppies 

She does script her books - we read a variety of books but she has memorized some and will fill in the blanks. 

I love my girl. She seriously is the sweetest. And if there is something wrong, I know my job is to do whatever I can to help her. I'll likely be updating the blog to share what I learn! 

almost two

I literally don't know where to start this blog entry. I guess the best place to start is by stating this, Hartley Glenn is my soulmate. 

I remember when she was born I felt like I didn't know what I was doing. I questioned if things would ever come naturally, if I'd ever figure things out. She had a set of lungs on her, and I couldn't always soothe her. I had done so much research and yet when she got here I was a mess. Every new stage I felt like I was just guessing and fumbling. But something magical happened somewhere along the way over these last almost-two years. It clicked. I became the world's leading Hartley expert, and I genuinely feel I know her better than anyone. And I love her like no one else. I get her sensitivities and her silliness - she feels like my little soulmate of a daughter. 

At almost two, she is becoming more independent by the day. She asks me for things. It feels incredible to finally have this level of communication! I'm always so impressed when she says "mo peas" to me. This is Hartley speak for "more please". I often hear "mo cookies? Peas". "Bubbles peas". Shrieks of laughter as she calls out for "weeee" aka Winnie. I also always try to have on hand the other popular requests: apple juice, apple sauce, crackers, chips and bananas. Oh, and of course, pizza. 

At almost-two, Hartley loves baths and being read to. Her favorite toys include a wood puzzle, her little people farm, her tea set, shape flashcards (weird, I know), and her purses with fake phones, wallets and cosmetics. She loves to brush her teeth and her hair. She asks me to put bows in her hair. She loves stuffed animals - her very favorite being a white cat from nana and poppy. She loves all animals but especially cats. She loves wearing cat ears, pretending to be a cat and her favorite book is Five Black Cats, a gift from her great aunt Kathleen. 

She loves to dance. She loves to make random objects hats. 

She's almost always smiling and laughing. 

She's smart. She knows a lot of words. She knows her colors. I think she now has every letter of the alphabet. She can count to 20. She knows a lot of animals and the sounds they make. She knows a lot of various foods. She knows some shapes - her favorite to say is octagon, which always cracks me up because it seems like it'd be the hardest. She knows Mommy, Daddy, Winnie, Nana (she calls Nina), Poppy, Nutty - but Patrick is still "baby".

Her favorite tv shows are Sesame Street, Bubble Guppies and Paw Patrol. She spent all of December asking for "Elmo Day", which is what she called the movie Elmo's Christmas Countdown. She loves singing to a song in it called "Almost Christmas". 

Her girlie side is coming out a little more. She puts on necklaces and headbands. The other day I gave her her first make up lesson - how to put on Chapstick. But she also still loves cars, trucks and trains ("choo choos"). She loves playing in the dirt and hasn't met a puddle she didn't like!

I'm noticing her get a little more shy than she once was but we still make friends wherever she goes! 

I truly wish I could bottle this age up. I feel like I'm going to miss it the most some day. Some day she'll articulate her words clearly, and I won't see her playful spout of blonde hair racing around the house at lightening speed.  Until then I'm trying to soak up all the cuddles and all the toddler kisses I can get. Yes, I forgot her adorable kisses, which are just her saying "MUAH" and giving me her cheek to kiss.

I love my sweet little girl more than words could say. And my birthday wish for her this year is that she never loses her sunny disposition, her wild spirit and her never ending curiosity. 

An Ode to the Peach Townhouse

When Brian and I got married we lived in a 762 square foot, 1 bedroom condo. I remember people would joke that our marriage must have been amazing because we flourished in such a teeny space. That was our home together for almost three and a half years. Even though is was very small and very leaky, it was the start of something beautiful. 

Then in July 2012, we bought our town home. It seemed like a mansion. 3 floors! 3 bedrooms! How on earth would be ever fill such a vast amount of space? And we had a yard! A real plot of land that was ours. 

In the beginning there were empty rooms. The storage room wasn't overflowing. And I distinctly remember Brian and I agreeing we'd live in this townhouse for at least 10 years.

At that time I was struggling to conceive and someone told me a beautiful proverb, if you make space for something in your life, it will happen. 

Well, let me just tell you - that proverb worked for us. In February 2014, we welcomed our beautiful Hartley Glenn. I'll never forget leaving the hospital, at 6.5 lbs she was basically swimming in her little winter pram. I remembered telling her she was going to love her home.

She grew bigger and bigger by the day. So did her collection of baby gear, toys and clothes. 

And then shortly before Christmas 2014, I got the shock of a lifetime when I learned I was pregnant again. We moved everything out of the 3rd bedroom to build another nursery. Another sweet first room - and this time for a baby boy.

In August 2015, we welcomed our sweet Patrick Frank. When we brought him home from the hospital we waited for my parents to drop off Hartley and Winnie. 

And there we all were for the first time - a family of four and our fur baby, five beings under what now seemed like a teeny roof. 

We talked about moving. But moving was really scary. We loved our townhouse and all the trails and playgrounds around it. We (especially me) had grown attached to it all. 

Then one day, Brian's wandering real estate eye spotted a gem online. We went to an open house the very next day, fell in love, and I was literally contacting our realtor on the car ride home, telling him we wanted to make an offer. 

Meanwhile, we hadn't even listed our townhouse. In our 9 year relationship, the was the first and only impulsive thing Brian and I have ever done. It's not really our style. But our reaction to the house was "that feeling". The one where you just know - this was our house. 

So here we are saying good bye to my favorite home I've ever known. It houses some of the very best moments of my life. But I'm hoping our next home will be the start to another beautiful chapter in our lives. It will house even more firsts, and we'll create new memories. 

But there will always be a special place in my heart for the little peach townhouse on Autumn Ridge, my babies' very first home. 

Thankful

Last night we were sitting in bed and Brian mentioned to me that it's been a long time since I'vewritten a blog. It's crazy how much we think alike because I was actually struck with inspiration yesterday afternoon when I was outside with the babies.

For weeks I'd wanted to do a "life lately" post. The truth is October was hectic. Between going to New Orleans for a weekend for my brother's wedding and then Brian traveling and doing recruiting events for work, it's been a little different from our previous months of adjusting to life as a family of four. I could write about what it's like to juggle a 2 month old and a 20 month old all by myself but honestly, summarizing it in one word is simple enough: tough. 

I'd love to sit down and write about all the amazing places the babies (but more so Hartley, as she goes places with Nana and Poppy) have been but I'd easily be writing all day long. In the spirit of quickness a list should suffice: Stribling Orchard, Pumpkin Village, Great Country Farms, Meadowlark Bontanical Gardens, Cox Farms, Frying Pan Farm Park, Chuckie Cheese, visiting the great grandparents in Maryand, and every playground Reston has to offer. Yes, October has been busy but wonderfully fun.

Anyhow, back to Brian and I talking last night, he told me he was proud of me. He told me lately I've had a positive attitude and a great handle on things. Honestly, I have my bad days just like everyone else but he's kind of right about being more positive. I think it's Hartley's age and the glorious weather and all the help I've received from my parents, it's working for me. And yesterday afternoon, the sun was cast in such a beautiful way on everything, Hartley crunched around in the fall leaves while a Patrick snoozed in his stroller - and I wanted to freeze time and stay in that moment. I felt exactly how we're told to feel in November; I felt incredibly thankful. 

A few months ago, I was terrified at the thought of having two small children to care for - every moment of every day. And maybe there was something stronger than just the smell of leaves in the air yesterday but I realized, I am so incredibly lucky. I have two beautiful, healthy children, and to say I'm thankful is probably the biggest understatement of all time. Every day I get to hold the most important beings in my life. I get to watch them grow and learn. And yesterday, I got to watch Hartley give her baby brother a kiss before he was whisked away by Brian for bath time. It's cheesy and cliche but the three of them melt my heart, and the fact that we're all here and healthy is the greatest gift. 

While I absolutely love my boys, Hartley is the one who teaches me the most about thankfulness. It may just be her age but everything through her eyes is amazing and fascinating. Yesterday I was so thankful to get to watch her. We were walking to the playground and she found all sorts of treasures: sticks, leaves, rocks and acorns (which she calls corns). Everything was so beautiful; it all had to be explored and studied. When we finally got to the playground, there was a dog, which meant I had to ask if Hartley could play with the dog. I always hold her back until I get I get the green light. I let her loose and she immediately went in for kisses and she pet him. Then once they established they were friends, she hugged the dog. The owner smiled from ear to ear because there really isn't a cuter sight than a 1 year old snuggling a dog. Hartley laughed hysterically at the dog wagging its tail. She popped her face in front of his, laughing so hard, almost to tell him, "you know that thing behind you is really silly, right?" 

In that moment, my heart felt like it could burst. I'm so thankful for this girl who has the very best spirit. She always wants to run wildly and yet she needs to stop to soak in her surroundings. 

She found her way to the playground where she greeted these cute, older girls with a sweet "hi". She marveled at them, and I was so relieved when they gave her the time of day. They were so nice and very maternal with her. It's amazing how as a mother you just want the world to be kind to your babies even when they are very little and don't fully understand things yet. 

She crawled up the slide. She teased me as I tried to get her to come down but she was more interested in doing "fake outs". 

There is not a thing in the world that compares to watching your children smile and laugh. This is what I am most thankful for. I'm thankful that even on our worst days I know I can get smiles and laughs out of them. 

I'm thankful to hear Hartley's soft voice say "mommy". She says "mommy" more than any other person. I'm thankful to feel her arms around my neck when she hugs me as I carry her. I'm thankful for Patrick still nuzzling and sleeping on his mom. I'm thankful to feel his warmth on my neck when he falls asleep on my chest. I'm thankful for his adorable, healthy rolls and his sweet gummy smile.

I could write on but I'm being summoned by these sweeties for which I'm so thankful.

I will return before the month is out to reflect on what I'm thankful for outside of my babies. Until then, enjoy all this cuteness. Babies in fall. It doesn't get better. 

Adjusting

Recently I've been asked a lot how are we adjusting to being a family of four. I need to find a quick answer that I can easily dispense to any audience because right now I keep fumbling over what to say. I think it partially has to do with my mom brain. I can't remember anything you told me 5 minutes ago. When Brian asks me how my day was you'd think he was asking me for a plan to solve the national debt crisis. He gets a blank stare followed by a couple minutes of me figuring out how to say the word, "good". Something about keeping track of feeds and poops turns my brain to total mush. Then there's the fact that I don't really know how to answer the question. I think we're adjusting relatively well but I don't really know what to compare it to. 

I decided to blog about it to the best of my mombie ability. 

When Patrick came home from the hospital, Hartley didn't notice him. I'm totally not kidding. She didn't run to him, say "baby" and kiss him. She just basically walked all over the house like usual, and he was just kind of there. It was kind of funny. I would say it was a tad concerning but it wasn't really because it was so easy. Brian usually did "Hartley duty", aka carrying her, changing her, wrangling her and playing with her. I was recovering so I was on "Patrick duty" (hate to break it to new moms but newborns require no physical exertion compared to a toddler). This was actually pretty easy.

The weekend Patrick turned two weeks, we finally really started to be a four person unit. We went to the playground as a family of four (now our weekend ritual). Brian chased Hartley. I sat on my inflatable donut on the park bench with Patrick. It felt natural and easy, honestly. 

Brian returned back to work, and I braced myself for my new existence. 

The first week he went back, my mom came over every day for 3-4 hours a day to help me. I was still in recovery mode so when we went out places she did all things Hartley, and I did all things Patrick. 

This has evolved a little bit. Now my parents help about 2-3 hours a day (sometimes longer if there's a field trip involved), about 3-4 days a week. It is a tremendous help to me. Hartley absolutely loves it; when they come in the morning she completely lights up. My parents enjoy it, and she can now say "Nana" and "Poppy". If it weren't for this help, our lives would not be what they are. We would not be as well adjusted and happy - I'm sure of that. They are the best. 

Generally our schedule goes like this:

7-7:30 am: wake up time (Brian wakes earlier to shower). Brian gets Hartley, changes her diaper, puts her in her high chair with milk and breakfast. Depending on Patrick's schedule, I eat my breakfast before or after he gets his bottle but we both eat around now also. Brian takes Winnie out. 

Around 8: Brian leaves for work. Hartley watches Sesame Street while I finish and clean up breakfast. 

Between 8:30-10: a variety of things happen. I get them dressed. I read/play with Hartley if Patrick is content. I might turn on tv or music if I need to focus on Patrick (change, feed or soothe him). I've been making an effort to make sure Patrick does tummy time and uses the play mat. A few times we squeeze in a walk or grocery trip in the morning.

10ish: usually either my parents come over, they/we take them out or we schedule a play date.  If my parents take Hartley out, this is when I do laundry, shower, get random things done like birth announcements, thank you notes, take Winnie out, etc. Sometimes I just relax and hold Patrick; he usually eats while they're gone, too. 

Around 12:30pm: Hartley eats lunch. I eat lunch. She sometimes gets to watch tv while I clean up lunch. 

Around 1: Hartley naps. Patrick joins me in my room. He might sleep, we might snuggle, he might feed, but we relax and decompress. 

Around 3: we're ready to go again. So here it all depends on weather. If its rainy or too hot, I do afternoon baths for Hartley while Patrick is in his rock n play. We make it more of a playtime than just a quick bath time. We'll play upstairs in Hartley's room. If the weather is nice, we'll go outside. We'll do indoor playtime - more books, toys, tummy time, exercise mat. 

Lately I try to start on dinner before Brian gets home, this means Hartley gets either Pandora or tv and Patrick chills in the rock n play. Sometimes I'd rather play with them (like last night), and I make dinner when he gets home instead. 

Brian usually gets home around 6ish. We eat dinner. We clean up dinner. 

We hang out as a family, maybe do a family walk. If it was a rough day or Brian gets home later, I usually go upstairs to get a break to shower if I couldn't earlier.

At 7:30ish, Brian starts Hartley's bedtime. I take Patrick.

8 pm: Hartley is down for bed. Patrick is up with us. We take care of whatever we need to take care of around the house (taking out trash, recycling, washing bottles, moving or folding laundry, putting away toys, etc.)

We usually are relaxing around 8:30 pm. Sometimes Brian does work.

Patrick has been taking his last feed around 9:30 pm. 

Sometimes we get 30 minutes alone together but more often one of us will crash right after Patrick does.

Brian does Patrick's night feed. God bless him. 

We start all over again the next day :)

It is tiring. There can be a couple hours at a time where I'm bouncing back and forth between my two children and it feels like everyone needs something simultaneously (this includes Winnie who often wants something just as I'm sitting down to feed Patrick or I'm changing a poopy diaper). Sometimes I feel like I'm crappy at it but mainly I feel pretty good about knowing I'm doing everything I can.

I can't complain. My babies are pretty easy, adorable and so worth it. My husband and my parents are rock stars. They are so helpful and supportive. I've never had a single day where I felt alone or without support. 

I think I'm adjusting beautifully to being a mom of two but I'm sure there are moms out there who get it done with zero tv and zero hot dog lunches. I tip my cap to them but that's certainly not my personal goal. My goal is to see as many smiles and hear as many laughs as I can in a day without getting overly exhausted. I don't mind shortcuts as long as everyone is healthy and happy. I try to keep the house from getting too disasterous looking but it definitely happens and I roll with it, goldfish crumbs and all. 

Our routine isn't without hiccups. Yes, there is "jealously" as Hartley adjusts to sharing attention. This happens when it's me alone with the two of them, and Hartley wants mom to herself. We get through it, and I try really hard to make sure Hartley feels as loved as ever. It's a balance - she needs to feel secure and loved while learning how to share the spotlight. I think it's actually going to serve her really well in life. It does bother me when people gravitate to the new baby and forget about her so I try really hard to compensate when it happens. 

I feel like everyday all of the feels more normal. All of a sudden, life with one sounds like a breeze, which is pretty funny. 

That's the long answer to the question though! 

Updates on these cuties to follow... Someday! 

Patrick's birth story

I'll never forget the day I learned I was pregnant with Patrick. It was, without a doubt, the most surprised I have ever been. So I guess it would only be fitting that I was counting down to his induction day but he decided to surprise me with plans of his own.

Sunday, August 9th at 1:45 am, I woke up thinking I was wetting the bed. I turned to Brian and told him how embarrassed I was but I was wetting the bed, and I physically couldn't get to the bathroom. He told me not to be embarrassed; he said at 9 months pregnant these type of things probably happen all the time. Sounds ridiculous but it took us both a few minutes to piece together that maybe it was actually my water breaking. 

I called my OB's emergency line. Brian began dialing my parents.

My doctor told me it sounded like my water had broken and to head to the hospital. Brian got a hold of my mom, and she drove right over to spend the night at our house with Hartley.

We arrived to the hospital probably a little before 3am, and they wheeled me up to Labor and Delivery. 

They checked me out and confirmed that yes, my water had broken. I was 2 cm dialated and having irregular contractions. I was told I should try to lay back and get rest. Brian actually fell back asleep, and I laid there, too excited to sleep. After an exhausting pregnancy, I was finally going to meet my baby boy. 

Nurses changed shift at 7 am, and the new nurse told me that my doctor would be there soon to check me out. Around 8 am, I saw my doctor, and I was dialated 4cm. She advised me not to wait too long for my epidural because things can progress very quickly with the 2nd baby. I told her I wanted to hold off longer. 

My mom joined us in the delivery room a little bit later. She was crying when she came in; she said she was emotional about Patrick coming. We listened to a Garth Brooks song about meeting your mom for the first time, and we both bawled. 

Around 10:30 am my contractions were about 5 minutes apart, and I was feeling them. I still didn't really want the epidural but I didn't want to miss the window. The nurse got the anesthiologist and by 11 am, I wasn't feeling much of anything. 

Then my dad joined the delivery room party. I started feeling a little sick from the epidural, probably low blood sugar, so I got to enjoy my first cup of juice in 4 months. 

Around noon, I learned my grandmother had passed away in her sleep early that morning. I was already emotional and this news really hit in such a weird way. I felt guilty that my mom was with me. I felt sad to hear of my grandma's passing but I was also overjoyed to be having my baby. I didn't really know quite what to feel or more importantly - what to say to my mom. I was also thinking there was some sort of meaning to all of this. She was likely taking her last breaths as Patrick had decided it was time to enter this world. My mom said to me that now my grandma could be here with us when he entered the world. And even now when I tear up about her passing, I remind myself she's a guardian angel to Patrick, and she's been watching him from up in heaven since the moment he was born.

We all cried. It was crying on and off throughout the day really. 

We learned I was progressing slowly so Brian went home to take care of a few work emails and get a little nap. I knew I wanted to change Patrick's middle name to honor my grandma but I didn't want to have the conversation in front of my mom so I texted Brian while he was out. I told him I wanted to change Patrick's name to Patrick Frank. Brian loved the idea and thought it was a great way to honor Yaya. I love that Patrick will live with a piece of her always - even though he just missed meeting her.

My progress was very slow so they decided to start giving me pitocin. 

Brian came back. They bumped up the pit about every 30 minutes. 

We got this amazing nurse named Laura who began rotating me to get Patrick to descend more. This is pretty much Hartley's story - only with a functioning epidural. I felt lots of pressure but no real pain. 

After a while I started to come a little unglued. Again, a long labor, and I saw no end in sight anytime soon. I began to cry - and one minor outburst about 2nd labor being fast being a "fucking lie". 

But eventually I hit a point where I felt things happening. My dad sat next to me while I held the railing of the hospital bed and tried to breathe through things. My mom and Brian took turns getting me drinks and ice packs. 

Then I finally hit a point around 6:15 when I told everyone I was ready to push. I was finally 10 cm, and it was go time. 

I pushed for 45 minutes. I remember my mom crying, and saying, "oh my God, he's here!" That last push got him out so much faster than Hartley so I think we were all shocked at quick the very end was. 

They put him on my chest, and I just cried uncontrollably. 

After Hartley's labor, I was too exhausted to cry. This time, I couldn't stop crying. I actually remember someone in the delivery room asking my doctor why I was crying so much. 

They let me hold Patrick for a few minutes before they took him away. I remember telling him how much I loved him and how perfect he was. Delivering at 7 pm was also far easier than 2 am so I didn't want to stop holding him. 

But that was how our beautiful boy arrived. 

7 lbs, 12 ounces, 20.5 inches long, 17 hours of labor, and named after one of the most amazing women this world has ever known, my grandmother, Carryl Page Frank.

I honestly look back at Hartley's birthday and remember the level of fear and agonizing pain. While it was worth it, that day still scares me. I will never forget that pain. But this experience was so much different - less painful for sure but far more emotional. Experiencing death and birth in the same day was very strange.

A few days before she died, my mom showed her pictures of Hartley pushing a baby stroller, and my grandma told her that Hartley was going to be a great big sister. I hope my grandma is enjoying watching it from up above. 

I will add more pictures eventually, but here is the perfectly real (no make up or  labor hair do) moment I met my so for the first time: