Tag Archives: Baby #2

She Says… 7 Months


My sweet baby-who-is-quickly-feeling-like-not-so-much-of-a-baby,

You are SO MUCH FUN right now. Seriously. You’re the best. Your chubby cheeks and toothless grin and sparkly gray-blue eyes make everyone around you smile right along with you — your joy is contagious. You still have your characteristic easygoing way about you, but recently we’ve seen more and more of another side of your personality. You are driven and focused and determined.

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You practice new skills like rolling (which you rock at) and grabbing (everything) and getting food from your fist into your mouth over and over and over again with the determination of an Olympic athlete. You love to pull hair right now. Especially mine. Especially when I leave it curly and I’m giving you a bottle and you gaze into my eyes so sweetly and dribble a little milk out of your mouth so that I let my guard down, and then BAM! you grab a fist full of what you had been twirling so gently a moment before and PULL. HARD. I wrangle my hair out of your clenched fist, and we start that little dance all over again. You’re sneaky. And strong. And you have hilarious timing.


Speaking of rolling, you are a rolling machine. You’ve actually developed this amazing ability to maneuver yourself all around a room to get your hands on whatever you want. Most kids do this with crawling, but your preferred method is a carefully planned out series of rolls and pivots. It’s quite impressive and I’m so glad I finally got a video to show you one day. I have to imagine that crawling is just around the corner for you, my active little dude!


The other day Owen and I ran upstairs to get him a pair of socks and came back down to find that you had rolled yourself right out of the living room and into the kitchen, and you gazed up at us, giggling and proud, with one foot in the dog’s water bowl and gnawing on a magazine. Watch out, Mommy.

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You are growing like a little weed these days. And it’s not a wonder — you down over 35 ounces of formula (that’s a LOT) plus three solid meals of food a day. And recently daycare started asking me to pack snacks because you were hungry. HUNGRY? Must be all that rolling you’re doing. Favorite foods at the moment are peas, corn, sweet potatoes, blueberries and bananas. The only thing I’ve found that you really don’t like is butternut squash. You’ll still eat it, but you make a scrunchy face and spit most of it back out.


Due to your ongoing tummy issues and some weird rashes and hives, we’re seeing an allergist and a GI specialist. Currently my instructions are to introduce you to as many new foods as possible in the next 4 weeks, so here we go! I’ve been on a baby food making extravaganza and our freezer is filled with different concoctions. I love mixing and matching your meals and I’m excited to branch out into different grains and textures and flavors in the coming months. I’m so glad to see that you seem to like food just as much as your brother and Daddy and I.


Your brother. Oh, Emmett. I can’t even put into words how much you adore your brother. And how much he adores you. The two of you are obsessed with each other. I can already see the incredible connection that the two of you have that has nothing to do with Daddy or I, and it makes my heart sing.


At dinner Owen loves to entertain you by making silly faces and shaking his head around. Physical comedy seems to be your thing at the moment and just about anything Owen does that involves climbing/jumping/twirling/dancing/running elicits the most delicious belly laughs from you. You also have the uncanny ability to laugh whenever he says something silly. It’s like you can understand every word he says. He’ll tell us a story and make a joke, and you’re ALWAYS the first one laughing. It is precious.

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He can’t get enough of you either. He asks me to bring you up in his bed so we can all “pretend to sleep” together and he loves to hand you toys and make you put them in your mouth (which you do, every time). He shakes your head around and bobbles you so forcefully I’m still constantly saying, “Gentle hands!” and “Owen, Emmett doesn’t like that, please stop” and you are constantly making a liar out of me by laughing your little butt off at whatever he’s doing.

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Though I know there are wonderful things on the horizon for you, I wish I could bottle this age and keep it in my pocket. You are just… delicious. Jolly. Sweet. Easy.


Every day I look forward to waking you up just because I get to hold you and squeeze your beautiful baby chub and cover you in kisses. I can’t wait to see more and more of your personality as you grow. What you’ll be like. What you’ll do with your life.


We’re so lucky to have you, Emmetty. Bonky bonks. Blemett (Owen’s favorite). Chubs.

Couldn’t love you any more if I tried,

She Says… 6 Months

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Oh Emmett. My jolly little dude. My cuddler. My giggler. You, my darling, are the type of baby that makes people want to have a million more babies.

I mean, really. Just look at that smile. The twinkly eyes. The delicious cheeks. The rubberband-like rolls at your wrists, ankles, knees, thighs. It’s literally hard for me to stop kissing you some days. You are just so smooshable. You are calm and content. Chill, to the max.

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On top of that, 6 months is a magical time.

  • You are sleeping through the night. You still cry out once in a while, and since we almost never hear you cry anymore, Daddy and I sit and watch you on the monitor, wringing our hands over if we should go in and hold you. When Owen was your age, if I went in ONE TIME he would expect me to come in EVERY TIME, ALL THE TIME when he cried. Going in once just to check on him made the whole sleeping process take about ten steps back. But you, you, my flexible little friend, you are totally cool if I come in one night and give you time to try to get yourself together the next night. You wake at different times’ always keeping me on my toes. Sometimes you want my help calming you down, sometimes you don’t. You’re flexible, but you’re also confusing. You are helping me to learn how to roll with it and just follow my gut.

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  • You are rolling and sitting like a champ. It seems like all of a sudden you went from laying down all the time to being able to flip/roll both ways, pivot around on your tummy, inch your way towards toys and sit for really long periods of time without falling over backwards. It’s amazing to watch – you are SO strong. I used to joke about how you were so deliciously, perfectly plump that it was harder for you to flip that body over or hold it up for a long time. Boy was I wrong. You are an Olympic sitting champion these days, and believe me, it’s ALL you want to do.

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  • You eat food and it’s super fun. You are loving exploring food these days. Some days you chow down, some days you just want to chew on something “big”, some days you want nothing to do with what I put in front of you. But generally we’re doing 2 “meals” a day, in addition to the millions of ounces of formula you drink every day (seriously, WHERE do you put those 38 ounces?!). As with many things with you, every day is different and we’re learning to follow your cues. You have tried homemade avocado, sweet potato, broccoli, green beans, peas, pears, butternut squash and some red and green pepper sticks (that you like to gum to death). You kind of like everything, except the squash which you only like mixed with apple. Unfortunately we’ve recently noticed the beginning of eczema on your cheeks, just like your big bro, so we’re avoiding rice cereal and other grains at the moment, and also apples. I’m being very cautious with all other allergens as well. As with your brother, I’ll continue my scientific food experiments to see if we can figure out what your triggers are, but we’re not there yet.

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  • You love toys. Everything we hand you goes right in your mouth. I love to see which ones are your favorites (wooden giraffe, banana toothbrush, the twirly corner of a random burp cloth), as you are beginning to develop opinions and show us your personality. It’s so fun to watch you grab things and maneuver them into your mouth. In contrast to your brother’s frenetic, wild motions at this age, you are controlled and steady. Your fine motor skills are quite impressive and you’re already starting to pick up teeny tiny little things between your pudgy fingers.

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The past month has been punctuated by lots of doctor’s appointments. You seem to have inherited your brother’s tendency toward respiratory bugs, and you’ve had a nasty cough for the last couple of weeks. In addition, you also have quite the glass stomach, as you’ve gotten a tummy bug twice and both times the projectile vomiting has persisted for almost a week. Phew! I thought I knew everything about baby illnesses after Owen, but again, I was wrong. Let’s try to keep those appointments to a minimum from now on, mmkay?

You, my precious one, are so. much. fun. You have this new screechy laugh that you do whenever Owen walks in the room, and you seem to be constantly amused with watching the world go by. Owen still delights in contorting your body into hilarious positions and bopping you on the head (he does it out of love, I promise). You guys are two peas in a pod. Watching you interact makes my heart swell to the point of bursting.

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I love you. Times a million.



She Says… Four Months


My sweet baby boy,

This month whizzed by. It flew. You started daycare and I started back at work in the beginning of November and BAM! it’s Thanksgiving already. And judging by the state of our family calendar, it will be Christmas before we know it. The transition back to work could have been devastating. It could have been rough. It could have been rocky. It’s been busy (and still is), for sure, but thanks to you, my little darling, it has been as painless as possible.


You, sir, rock. You rock at daycare. You rock at sleeping there. You rock at chugging every drop of all of your bottles. You rock at smiling and charming every one of your teachers. You rock at staying pretty calm in the evenings even after super long days so that we can have dinner as a family. You rock at smiling and splashing and making bathtime my favorite time of the whole day. You rock at snuggling into me while I nurse you at bedtime, holding your tiny, pudgy little fingers and wondering how we made such a perfect little dude.


I’m beginning to worry that you’re going to grow up thinking your name is “cutie pie”. Because that’s what you hear all day long. I’m sure there’s a lot more to you than just your looks, but it’s the truth. You are DAMN cute. People stop me on the street to say one of three things about you:

  1. You have the most perfect, round head. (I had no idea this was a thing people commented on, but it’s true. You do.)
  2. You are SO smiley. (Mmm hmm, that too. Not stingy with the grins!)
  3. You have the most beautiful eyes. (Sparkly. Dancing. Deep blue like the ocean.)

I may be biased, but I wholeheartedly believe that all 3 things are true.

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This month, unfortunately, I’ve discovered something that’s not so easy breezy about you. As much as I tried to avoid going down the road of thinking you have some sort of food allergy/intolerance like your brother and your Daddy, I’m pretty sure you do. At least for now. This past month has been a roller coaster of hypoallergenic formula and me avoiding certain foods to see what the culprit is. Though you’re far from figured out, my best guess and working hypothesis at the moment is that your tummy does not tolerate when I eat milk or eggs. We’ve got a pretty good thing going while I’m off both of those things as far as I can tell, and although it’s hard for me to avoid yummy things like cheese, yogurt and chocolate (and pretty much anything baked now that eggs are off limits), it is worth it for the time being to heal you. Last night was the worst night I’ve seen — arching, crying, poop issues. Nothing helped. You couldn’t sleep and you couldn’t eat, which just left you awake and paralyzed by your own sadness. Which meant I was too. Daddy and I took turns trying to comfort you but all you really wanted was to rock with me, half-nursing, half-pacifying.

We got through it. We’ll get through this patch and we’ll get through the next one and we’ll get through the one after that. I’ll always be here to hold your hand and help you through, whatever comes. I already ache for the day that you come home with a problem I can’t fix, like a broken heart. But trust me, we’ll get through that too.


Emmett, you fit like a snug little puzzle piece into our family. Daddy and I fight over who gets to hold you and make you smile. Schnitzel is protective of you and bathes you in kisses. Owen, in the midst his totally-age-appropriate-but-nonetheless-incredibly-frustrating 3 year old ‘tude, is totally enamored with you. His normally wild body becomes calm around you. He dotes on you. Sings to you. Contorts your body in hilarious ways that make us all laugh. Sweetly and softly pats your cheek when you’re crying. Gives me the play-by-play of what you’re doing in the car (“He’s sleeping! No! He’s awake! He’s pukin’ up! He’s looking at his toy!”). Though I know there will be times, likely in our not too distant future, when he’s not so kind to you, you must always know that everything he does comes from a place of love.


Brothers are like that.


Owen’s new favorite game is to get the whole family under a blanket on the couch and pretend to sleep. He calls it a “love cage” and no one can get out. Guess who he ALWAYS wants in his love cage? You. So far you’re surprisingly tolerant of being smooshed into a pigpile with all of us and covered with a quilt. You’re pretty easygoing about most of the silly games we play with you. You’re the best baby doll.


I love you, my beautiful boy. We all do. Even in the middle of the night it melts me to see your bright eyes and kicking legs in the dim light. You are one special little guy.


Couldn’t love you any more if I tried,


She Says… Smileypants

Oh, this guy.


This guy is SO smiley.


“They” say babies start to smile at 6 weeks. This guy looked right into my eyes and gave me the biggest, widest, open-mouth grin at 4 1/2 weeks. His eyes twinkle. His toes point like a little ballerina. He smiles with his whole body. This is not just gas, folks.


Since then we’ve gotten more and more smiles every day. Owen gets them. Daddy gets them. The dog gets them. The wall gets them.

And OH! That dimple (two of them, actually, but the 2nd one only comes out occasionally with a REALLY big smile). Swoon.


Wanna see? My best attempts at getting him smiling on video are captured on Instagram here and here.

They are SO hard to capture because usually they are a result of eye-to-eye contact and smiling and cooing on my part, which is much, much harder with a phone or camera between us.


If you touch his head gently, he smiles. Touch his cheek gently, he smiles. Sing to him, he smiles. He isn’t stingy.


I love that about him already.

She Says… Brotherly Love

Please excuse the non-blogging while I thoroughly enjoy falling into the newborn abyss. The rabbit hole of diapers and nursing and snuggling this tiny little person who has joined our family.

I’m exhausted. But it couldn’t be a lovelier kind of exhausted.

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After a day and a half in the hospital, Benjamin and I were ready to bring our little guy home to meet his brother. Since Owen was at school during the week we didn’t try to pick him up early and force a hospital “meeting”. It seemed like a recipe for disaster on many levels. Instead, we opted to come home Thursday morning so we could get ourselves settled at home before picking Owen up from school to meet his little bro.

To say he was excited is an understatement. Apparently he told everyone he saw at school (teachers, students and parents alike), “MY BABY CAME OUT!”.

Almost immediately, Owen smothered Emmett with kisses (and ubiquitous daycare boogers). I tried to give some helpful tips like, “Just the top of his head and his hands and feet, maybe not right up in his face…” and “Ooh! That’s enough hugging! I think Emmett is all hugged out…” while also trying to not stifle Owen’s enthusiasm for meeting his baby brother.
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Schnitzel has been on his best guard-dog behavior as well. When I’m nursing he sits at attention at my feet, ready to protect us from intruders. And when Emmett cries, Schnitzel is usually at his side even before I am. He’s the best nanny ever.

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There was no shortage of kisses. Owen even said things like, “Hi cutie pie, why are you crying? What’s wrong, sweetie?”. He’s going to be such a sweet brother.

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After a few minutes of baby doting, the novelty wore off and Owen said, “Mommy can you put Baby Emmett down so we can play?”. Ha.

And just like that, we were a family of 4. Just doing a puzzle. Hanging out. It just felt… right.

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Whenever Emmett squeaked, Owen ran over and patted him (gently, most of the time) and wanted to pick him up. We certainly have some rules to learn about what is allowed (touching the baby’s feet and head gently) and what is not (picking up the baby by his head), but at least I know that it comes from a place of love.

I keep trying to remember that as I reprimand Owen for manhandling the baby.

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We’re adjusting to the new morning routine too. It’s hard for Owen to understand why I can come in and wake him up sometimes but not others. But he’s doing an awesome, awesome job adjusting. In fact, I’d say we all are.

And those “quiet” moments when both kids are happy and hanging out together are worth every one of the loud or frustrating ones.

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On Sunday we went out to ice cream to celebrate Emmett “coming out” and Owen becoming a big brother. Ice cream makes everything better.

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Brotherly love is a powerful thing. I feel so fortunate to have two beautiful boys to share it.

She Says… Emmett’s Arrival

Before I launch into the story of how Emmett decided to come out and play, I want to thank you all for your amazing outpouring of love and support and congratulations. Benjamin and I are so thrilled to have the little guy on the outside of my body rather than the inside, and it is incredible to know there were/are so many people thinking of our family during this exciting time.

So. The story.

Well you all know where we were the night before the due date. I was at the hospital NOT actually in labor, despite the contractions coming every 5 minutes. I was angry, frustrated, embarrassed and generally aggravated at the world when we were sent home in the wee hours of the morn on my baby’s due date. After a few hours of sleep I woke up and felt horrible. I was crampy and uncomfortable and my emotions were running high. I decided to take a much-needed sick day from work, which I almost never do. To get my mind off of the labor-that-wasn’t, Benjamin and I decided to head to Ikea to pick up the last few things that we needed for the basement renovation. I figured I could walk this baby out in the air conditioning, if nothing else.


All of a sudden, while walking through the kitchen and dining chair section, I felt a contraction that stopped me in my tracks. I had been feeling them all morning, but this one was pinchier and sharper and made me stop and hold my stomach. Ugh, these “false” contractions really suck, I thought, and carried on with my shopping. A few (short!) minutes later, another one. Worse. And I was pretty sure I had just wet my pants. Spoiler alert — it wasn’t pee.

My water had just broken in Ikea.

Thankfully not the waterfall I experienced with Owen, but just enough so that I was 100% sure that’s what it was without leaving a puddle on the concrete floor below. Benjamin was in a different department and there was no cell service, so I kept shopping, knowing that we’d meet up at checkout. Well, I kept shopping in about 3 minute segments, and then I’d try to play it cool while I breathed through a contraction. Once I started timing them I realized shit was getting real FAST. They were 3-4 minutes apart. I abandoned our cart and told Benjamin we had to leave. Like, RIGHT NOW. The only problem was that we needed to pick up an order from a nearby warehouse. It was the whole reason we had driven to Ikea, so we decided to do it as fast as possible while I timed contractions.


I think my contractions must have rattled Benjamin, because he got lost on the way to the warehouse. On some REALLY bumpy roads. I would grip the car door handles, breathe through a contraction, and then read the timing aloud (1 minute long, 3:30 since the last one). The distance between the contractions was shrinking, and they were definitely getting worse.

Thankfully we found the warehouse and I told Benjamin to RUN while I called the doctor. I actually had an office appointment scheduled in a few hours, so I called to ask them if I should go to the office or the hospital (like… is it real NOW?!). I must have sounded really under control, because they advised me to come to the office and they’d check me there. About 1 minute after leaving the warehouse with our furniture in the trunk, though, I KNEW we were not going to the doctor. We were heading straight to the hospital. And all of a sudden I was a little scared about even getting there in time. I was thankful I had thought to throw the labor bag in the car “just in case”.

We got to the hospital and when the midwife checked me, the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and felt like they were coming on top of each other. 5cm dilated, 100% effaced and head ready. And changing FAST. I was already making noises I didn’t recognize and having an out-of-body experience due to the pain, so the nurse immediately set to work getting me fluids so I could get an epidural. It seemed to take forever to get the necessary bloodwork done and questions answered in the antenatal area. I felt like the baby was about to fall out on the floor and I could barely breathe before the next contraction started again. Benjamin was stuck answering while I nodded and shook my head and thought I was going to vomit. By the time they put me in a wheelchair to take me from antenatal to labor and delivery, I was a full blown caricature of what a woman in labor looks like in the movies.

Once we got to the labor & delivery room things are a bit of a blur to me. I was completely blinded by the pain and it took every fiber of my being to squeeze my eyes shut, breathe/scream and focus on not breaking into a million little tiny pieces. I heard voices and saw faces, but all I could really hear in my ears was my own breathing (and the strange wails that were apparently coming out of my mouth, though they sounded nothing like my voice). After what seemed like another eternity, I got the epidural. In the next few minutes while we waited for it to kick in, my body decided it was ready to push.

Apparently I was going to experience the joy/beauty/pain/agony/euphoria/horror of natural childbirth without necessarily intending.

Prior to this experience, I would have thought that pushing was the worst part of all. The climax. The big finale. But honestly once I started pushing I was immediately present again. Laser-focused. Eyes open. Breathing. Kicking labor’s ass. It felt weirdly good, after all of the drama of transition. And I don’t think that was the epidural speaking, since it really didn’t have a chance to kick in at all.

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10 minutes later, Emmett Howell entered the world.

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Very purple and quite stunned by the speed of his arrival, but perfect in every way. The midwife put him right on my chest and Benjamin and I laugh-cried and stared in awe at this beautiful little person.

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Welcome, little one.

She Says… Start The Clock

Somehow I’m already 37 weeks into this pregnancy. I say somehow because I SWEAR it was just February, like, yesterday, and I was thinking how far away July felt. And now it’s right around the corner.

And I’m not even sure we’re going to make it to July sans baby.

At my 36 week appointment last week my midwife checked me for Group B Strep (standard check, not a huge deal if you have it, but I’m still relieved to see my negative result). While she was already “in position” I asked her to give me an internal exam. Much like my 36 week appointment with Owen, I was anxious to see if anything was happening (and waaaay too excited to have a doctor all up in my ladyparts). Since Owen came 2 weeks early, I’ve been wishing and hoping that this baby would be on the same schedule, but really had no idea if the inside of my body was on the same page.

Before she agreed to check my progress, she made me pinky swear that I realize that THIS INFORMATION MEANS NOTHING. Doctors really have no idea what sends women into labor. Some women can walk around 4cm dilated and 100% effaced for weeks without their labor progressing, and others can go from no progress to having a baby in their arms in a few hours. Still, given what I know from hindsight about Owen’s labor and what my body did leading up to that point, I was beyond curious. After I swore I wouldn’t hold her to any predictions and wouldn’t get upset over the results, she checked me.

36 weeks: 2cm dilated and 75% effaced, almost all of the mucus plug is gone. (Oops, sorry friends and family… didn’t give you a TMI alert on that one before I whipped out the grossest pregnancy term ever).

Even though I know that doesn’t necessarily mean labor is around the corner, it’s great progress in the right direction! That’s just a smidge further along than I was with Owen at this same point (I was 1cm and 50% effaced). So maybe baby IS thinking what I’m thinking. Either that or he’s totally faking me out and he’ll be the one laughing when I’m still pregnant on my due date or even after. Thankfully (?), another “perk” of gestational diabetes is that they don’t let you get too far past your due date, so my doctor and midwife and I have been discussing the plan for if I get that far. As it stands, no one thinks we will really need to go there, which is music to my ears.

That appointment lit the fire I needed to get the last few things checked off my list. I packed my hospital bag. We hung pictures and the mobile in the nursery. We decided on contingency plans about who we would call if I went into labor in a million different scenarios. As of right now, I feel totally comfortable with the way things would be if I had to leave immediately to go to the hospital. Phew! That is a load off.


On Saturday night my company rented out Fenway Park for an event. Despite being super preggo, I didn’t want to miss that experience.


And Benjamin and I figured it might be our last night out together before the baby comes! (Side note, my belly looks WAY bigger than this picture actually shows… wish I had gotten a true side shot.)


We got home after midnight (way past my old lady bedtime!) and went straight to bed. But at 4am, I was up again. This time with contractions. Contractions that were DEFINITELY more painful than the Braxton Hicks I’ve been having for the last few weeks. Contractions that felt stronger and were closer together than I had ever experienced at home (my water broke with Owen before contractions were super painful, so answering the “Am I in labor?” question was very, very easy). I was awake and keeping an eye on the clock for 2 hours. More contractions than ever before, but definitely not regular and not timeable. And I know from experience the pain gets a lot worse, so I didn’t feel the need to wake Benjamin or call anyone.

Around 6am I felt a ton of movement. Flipping, punching, kicking… bigger movements than I’ve felt in a long time. When I got out of bed in the morning my stomach was a distinctly different shape. Practically pointing at the floor. Fairly certain the kid dropped/engaged/whatever you want to call it. I’ve heard that doesn’t necessarily happen with 2nd (or subsequent) pregnancies, but it is a dramatic difference to how I looked/felt last week.

I can eat now without a baby foot wedged in my rib. I can breathe better. I almost can’t feel my belly at all in the way I could before. It’s remarkably more comfortable! I’m going to assume he’s all wedged down in my pelvis now, ready for takeoff.

So, whether I go into labor in 3 minutes or 3 weeks, I’m certain things are a’changin’ in my belly, and we’re not too far from meeting this little guy.

She Says… Babies

Thank you all for the happy thoughts you sent my way after last week’s whiny post. A weekend of sunshine did me good and I’m feeling like myself again.

On top of that, Owen’s little fever turned out to be nothing and he seems to have emerged from whatever it was that was causing him to act like a little monster last week. I don’t know if it was a bug he was fighting or lack of sleep due to being excited about his bed or what, but I’m just thankful it is over now. And, in its wake, it seems to have left an exceptionally sweet child whose capacity for playing by himself has doubled and whose behavior could not be better. Phew. I guess those kinds of developmental jumps are worth the painful week? I guess? I’m still not sure why they seem to be so pronounced with Owen, and only in retrospect do I see what caused all of that ridiculous fussing and terrible behavior.

Owen is super excited to be a big brother. He’ll often bring up things like, “I’m going to teach my baby brother to eat” or “I want to touch my baby brother’s toes” or “I’m going to bring him toys to hold” out of the blue. Recently this excitement has manifested itself as an obsession with babies.

He LOVES babies.

At school a few weeks ago, when the kids were still in their snowsuits, there was a little girl standing, stuck, crying on the playground. Owen’s teachers tell me they turned around and he was over next to her, patting her on the back and saying, “It’s ok. It’s ok.”. Sob.

And he’s always had a thing for hugging our friends’ babies (whether they liked it or not!).

When I arrived at school to pick Owen up on Friday, the mom of one of his friends was there with her newborn. The baby was crying in his stroller and as soon as he heard that little cry, Owen dropped his toy and came running from across the playground. He climbed up onto the stroller and started patting his foot, crooning, “S’ok. Why are you crying?” in this little sing-songy voice. He patted the baby’s head SO GENTLY (like, for real gently… which both amazed me and terrified me, because one can never tell when that gentle touch is going to turn not-so-gentle…) and dug the baby’s pacifier out of his blankets. Owen stuffed the paci in his mouth (backwards, but it didn’t seem to matter) while asking, “You want this?” over and over again.

I nearly cried. It was just about the sweetest thing. Thankfully the mother didn’t mind Owen’s little hands all over her baby (I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did!) and she praised him for being so gentle. I could barely tear Owen away to go home. He was in love.

Then, over the weekend we hung out with our friends who have a little guy who is about 15 months old. He toddled towards the parking lot (nowhere near the cars, but in that general direction) and Owen ran up to him and shouted, “Don’t walk! Cars won’t see you!” in an effort to keep him safe. Owen walked next to his little friend and put his arm around his shoulders. Buddies. Oh so sweet, until that arm-around-the-shoulders move made them both fall down, and Owen tried to pick him up by his head/neck. Clearly it came from a place of love and trying to help the kid up, but we have some lessons to learn about how to handle other kids. Gulp.

I’m beginning to see what kind of big brother Owen may be. Head over heels in love. Overly affectionate. Super gentle until he’s super NOT gentle. Protective.

We’ll have to watch him like a hawk.

Still, it makes my heart swell to watch him love on babies. I’ll have to remember this the next time I have to sign an incident report for him beating up a friend at school.

She Says… It’s a…


Owen may be disappointed at first, since his little heart was set on a sister. But I must say, thinking of Owen and his little BROTHER growing up together makes my heart swell.

A little brother. Another baby boy.

We couldn’t be happier.

She Says… You! You’re there!

My little acrobat,

I felt you today! Whatever it was that I felt a few weeks ago was not really you, or, at least, it wasn’t as clearly you as this was. This morning, after wolfing down a bagel with cream cheese and some fruit (free breakfast on Fridays at work!), I was sitting at my computer going through my emails and it happened. It was just one, single tap. I froze, fingers hovering over the keyboard, and before I knew it I was smiling. Immediately I recognized what that feeling was.

It was you. Saying hi.

A few minutes later, there was another tap, deep down in my pelvis. And after that, one more, before you fell asleep or changed positions. And I have to tell you something. Something that I didn’t want to admit. I was worried that since you are the second beautiful little person that has grown inside my body that things wouldn’t be as exciting or as new or as special as they were the first time around. But you want to know something? I can assure you that is not the case. I am cherishing every move you make inside my belly and every breath you will take once you “pop out”, as Owen says you will “when you are bigger”. It is no less amazing simply because it has happened before. It’s always a miracle. I remember my mom, your Rah Rah, telling me that over and over again, but I feel it now, more than ever. Feeling you move today was just as awe-inspiring as it was with Owen, and perhaps even more so, because I knew exactly what I was feeling. I knew it was you.

Right now you are about the size of an avocado, which is ironic, because that has been all I want to eat recently. Well, not all, exactly, but I’d be happy to eat a whole one at every meal if I could. Straight up, a little salt, with a spoon. (When will you be the size of a jar of peanut butter? That’s my other guilty pleasure…). So far you have made this pregnancy incredibly easy on my body. Little to no sickness, and, as of yet, very little weight gain (unlike your brother, who had me packing on the pounds from the very start, despite the fact that my starting weight for both pregnancies was the same). The only way I remember I’m pregnant some days is my rapidly expanding baby bump! I’ve already grown out of some of the clothes I remember wearing until spring when I was pregnant with Owen.

Your blood is pumping, your arms and legs are growing to put you in the proper proportions, and you even have fingernails and toenails already. I’m looking forward to our growth spurt over the next few weeks!

I love you so, so much. And I’m so thrilled that you decided to make today the day you said hi from the inside.