Evan: 2 Months

Dear E,

Two months, just like that. It has come and gone in the blink of an eye (and a number of sleepless nights). You are well on your way out of newborn babyhood and into infancy. With each passing milestone (weight gain, smiles, coos, sleeping), there is this strange dichotomy of great joy and celebration coupled with grief. You are becoming a baby (yay!) but leaving behind your newborn days (boo!) It is disarming, this motherhood. I find myself longing, pining for days in which you sleep through the night or take less time to nurse. But when you do accomplish some new feat, I find myself oddly saddened by the loss of your youth. After all, you are my last baby and this is my last time to go through these delightful/hard/crazy/amazing phases. Sigh.

photo by the amazing Becky Fisher photography

Much of your short life has been shaped by the overwhelming stress of not gaining weight. For whatever reason, you don't gain as necessary just breastfeeding. This is my first time experiencing this, and it's really, really hard. It consumes my thoughts and my days. The emotional toll is exhausting, constantly watching the clock, watching the ounces, wondering if you're satisfied. The physical toll is beyond exhausting. I'm nursing and pumping around the clock. My body and my spirit are tired. I realize just how good I had it with Maddie and Sam, who though they had their own issues, weight gain was never one of them. And as silly as it sounds, I have to gospel myself through it all. I'm still a good mom if my baby doesn't gain weight. I'm still a good mom if I supplement with formula. I'm still a good mom if I can't keep up with the feedings. It's crazy the amount of pressure I put on myself.

 But then there's the joy. Oh, the joy.  Seeing your first smile. Hearing your first coo. Witnessing your first laugh as you giggled at your sister's high-pitched, affectionate tone. Drinking it all in. You, sweet boy, are mine, and how oh how I love you. There aren't enough words in the world, no adjectives to describe the tenderness and ferocity of my love for you. Here you are, just two months' new on this earth, and I would do anything for you.

Motherhood is a sleepless, thankless, overwhelming, yet heart-filling job. It brings me the greatest, most amazing joy yet drains the life right from me. It's like pregnancy never ends, and I pour and pour and pour my deepest, greatest, weightiest resources into you each and every day. The rewards are intangible: moments treasured deep in my heart, love that encompasses my chest and threatens to overtake my body, midnight snuggles and midday laughs. 

At two months, you have blue eyes. Big blues. We wonder if they'll stick around. Your dark hair is receding on top and coming in lighter underneath. You have long eyelashes. When you smile, it works its way vertically down your sweet little face. First, your eyes twinkle and light up, then your nose starts to crinkle, and lastly, the corners of your lips lift up in the most beautiful, tear-inducing smile. It never fails to delight me. :)

We've noticed your hand movement is more intentional, though far from perfect. You will throw an arm up while nursing, resting your outstretched hand on my chest. At night you reach for me with long arms and flailing fingers, inching your body closer and closer until at last you are nestled against me.

At many points in the past month I've tried to move you into the co-sleeper. And darn it, every time you happen to experience some weird reflux or crying fit. I can't just leave you there. I swipe you up into my arms and rescue you, bringing you back to the bed to snuggle in the crook of my arm or on my chest. For now, it's where you're most content. And it seems to work well. At seven weeks, you  were sleeping 7-hour stretches. You've maintained a pretty good record of 5-7 hour stretches until last night, when your first cold had you congested, and mad, mad, mad. Poor little guy.

And let's not forget to mention that you have found your voice. Your sweet, cooing, oohing, ah-gooing little voice that fills up the room and fills up my heart. Sometimes it's as if you are singing your own little song, in your own little world, and it sounds like heaven. Your Daddy seems to elicit the longest, loudest songs and it makes him very happy.

Evan Michael, we can't imagine our lives without you! It's been only about a year since you were conceived, yet it's unimaginable to think of life without you. You've definitely completed our little family. We're so glad you are here.

Love,

Mama

Maddie: 76 Months

Dear Maddie Mae,

This month was jam-packed with Maddie goodness. We started off with your first violin recital. It was an absolute joy to see you pull off an A Major scale. You've been asking to play the violin since you were 3 1/2. We waited until your 6th birthday to surprise you with lessons. At first it was fun and exciting but quickly the daily practice turned monotonous and frustrating. With much consternation, we walked you through a few months of practice, practice, practice. And, it all paid off. You were amazing. That little bit of confidence gave you just the boost you needed, and now you're playing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" for anyone who will listen. :)

Also this month you found "Lizzie" the alligator lizard in our trash compactor. I can't imagine what it must have been like to open it up and see him/her? sitting there, all eleven inches of him. You SO wanted to keep him as a pet, but a quick google search and facebook inquiry let me know it was no easy task to keep such things alive. But for one brief afternoon, Lizzie lived in our butterfly home, entertaining us with his beautiful coloring, long tail, and calm demeanor. We let him go in our backyard and you and Sam watched as he quickly made his way along the fence. I absolutely love your enjoyment of God's creation and your fearlessness.

On a family trip to the beach, you were the one doing the entertaining, with your tan. strong body jumping in the cold Pacific. It is pure joy to see you in your element, enjoying this great green earth, unashamed to frolic and yell and throw yourself completely into your play. It's so refreshing. You are a marvel, Maddie Mae.

At one point a few weeks back, you were doing some Kindergarten worksheets when you exclaimed, "Homework is the BEST!!!" I made you repeat it, for a video, as I hope to play it over and over in the years to come, when you (and I) are complaining about the same responsibility. But the truth is, you love school, you excel in your subjects, and you just plain love homework. It sure makes things easy for me.

Probably my favorite moment from the month was witnessing the love of Christ pouring out through you. You truly are a friend to the friendless. Some folks recently moved here from out of state. Their oldest, a girl your age, is shy and wasn't so sure about the move or her ability to make friends in a new, strange place. Without any prompting from us, you reached out to her immediately, welcomed her in, and befriended her in your classic Maddie style. After just two days with you, your new friend's mom told me just what an impact you'd had on her girl. By reaching out in love and hospitality, you showed this sweet girl that she could indeed make new friends in this strange new place. As we shared this with you, both Daddy and I teared up. God has gifted you so perfectly for a ministry of love, welcome, and hospitality.

At six, you know far too many words to the song "trouble" by Taylor Swift. You've lost one tooth and are well on your way to losing number 2. You are kind and welcoming but also still a bit sassy and opinionated. You are a tremendous help with your baby brother and sometimes hard on your middle brother. You are sweet and funny and an absolute joy most of the time. We love you so much, lovely girl.

Love,

Mama

Sam: 50 Months

Dear Sam Sam,

Wow. This was quite a month. One night you were playing with friends, running around, laughing and having a great time. At bedtime, you started acting sick. You were worn out and I thought you might be coming down with a fever. I made a mental note to check on you before going to bed. Around midnight, I was nursing Evan when I remembered to check in. As soon as I entered your room, I could hear you breathing. Panting, heaving, wheezing. I placed my hand on your chest and your little heart was beating so, so fast. Plus, it felt like your chest was caving in with each breath, your ribs sucking in. I immediately grabbed your dad, who shared my grave concerns. While I called the pediatrician, Daddy got dressed. He rushed you to the ER, where the docs immediately started working on you, afraid that either your little heart would give out or they'd have to give you a tracheotomy. But PRAISE GOD you responded to the meds. The docs got things under control but wanted you transferred to Children's ICU for more careful monitoring.

After 3 long days, you were finally released. Our poor, sweet boy. You were such an amazing little patient. Every doctor, nurse, MA, etc. commented on your sweet, gentle, agreeable personality. You said "thank you" when the respiratory therapist gave you treatments. You climbed your hospital bed when the steroids started making you stir crazy. You took long naps in my arms. 

It was so brutal being away from you. With a brand new baby at home, I couldn't bring him into the ICU. I hated to stay too long and expose myself and Evan to the yucky stuff floating around the hospital. I was still nursing around the clock and couldn't stay overnight in the hospital. My heart just broke every time I had to leave. You begged me to stay and I would reassure you with my words, but on the inside it was tearing me apart.

You made a quick and miraculous recovery. The prayers of our community and the love of your Heavenly Father covered you with healing and support. There were moments, though, sweet boy. I fought with God some of those nights. I know what it's like to stay in the hospital, to be monitored, to be so sick and so dependent. I don't want that for you. 

But I still trust in a sovereign God. I trust that he has plan and purpose for you. Like I've had to trust since your very beginning, after that first ultrasound, through your speech issues...you are my boy but you were God's child first. He loves you with an everlasting love. He knows you more deeply and loves you more intensely than even your own Mama. And I have to trust that He is in control. Because I most definitely am not.

Once home from the hospital (and off those crazy-making steroids), you resumed your usual sweet, spunky, sneaky behavior. You melt our hearts with your kind and generous spirit. You test our patience with your candy stealing and sister teasing. 

You notice things. You are a lover of detail. When coloring a patch of grass on a coloring sheet, you carefully and methodically chose three different shades of green, holding them all at once in your hand as you colored in short, fast strokes. You spent the better part of an hour coloring in your chalk outline one afternoon, selecting colors carefully and blending them with your hand. 

This past week at the beach, I loved watching you dance and sing and kick up your heels as your Daddy flew a kite in the air. You were SO excited, cheering with everything in your being. The joy was bursting out of you. It was so beautiful.

Despite "giving up" naps a few months back, you grab regular naps throughout the week in the funniest of places...the couch, the bottom stair, in timeout at the table. It's good to know you're getting the rest you need, even if it is in funny places.

You continue to be a miracle, Sam Ben Joyce. We rejoice in your good health. We praise God for delivering you from your illness. We look forward to your future. You are such a special boy.

Love,

Mama

Evan: One Month Old!

Dear Evan Michael,

This is your first official monthly update (and only 9 days late!) I hope I can manage to keep up with three updates each month. They might be late, less wordy and more photo-heavy, but I plan to continue savoring the ups and downs of each new month in the lives of my littles.

So, one month....

Likes: the boobies, Mama, napping in Mama's arms, baby-wearing, co-sleeping

Dislikes: being cold, waiting, the car seat (oh the torturous car seat!)

I could start an art exhibit of sleeping photographs. It seems I have hundreds on my phone. You love to sleep, and you sleep soundest in my arms, nestled against my chest, or tucked in the crook of my arm. If I lay down with you in the big bed, you'll stay for a nap if I get up. If I try to lay you down by yourself, you don't last long.

Your cry goes from 0 to 60 in no time. One second you'll be fine and the next your face is as red as a tomato and you are holding-your-breath-mad-mad-MAD. Thankfully you calm down quickly but those cries make my heart break in two!

You have an awesome head of hair that is fluffy and soft and sticks up in the back after a bath. It is getting lighter and lighter with each passing week. Your gray eyes are looking more and more blue these days but we're still waiting on the final verdict. 

After an initial few weeks of trouble gaining weight, I'm happy (and so relieved) that you don't seem to be having any more difficulties, to the tune of nearly an ounce a day of weight gain for weeks 4 and 5. You are growing but still itty bitty. At one month you still fit in newborn clothes, though there are 3 mo. styles in regular rotation as well. You are still using newborn diapers, too. 

Knowing you are my last baby makes me appreciate all these little moments. Though having a new baby (not to mention a third child) is SO MUCH work, I keep reminding myself to savor the moments because they go by so fast. I can hardly remember Maddie's newborn days and even less from Sam's. I'm not sure I'll remember much from these early weeks either, but I'll try to enjoy them for the present time.

Other than hating your carseat, you are a pretty easygoing little guy, especially if being held. So we hold you. We treasure these moments. It is a joy to hold you close and admire your long hair, eyelashes, fingernails, and long feet. Though you love to sit and linger while nursing, I take the time to appreciate little kneading fingers at my side, contented little sighs, funny frustrated grunts and the always-present hunger snorts.

We're so glad you've joined our family, littlest love. What a honey you are. Welcome to one month, Evan.

Love,

Mama

Maddie: 75 Months

Dear Maddie Mae,

What an amazing big sister you are! You've proven time and time again how patient you are, first with Sam and now with Evan. It doesn't rattle you at all if Evan is screaming in your arms, you just calmly talk to him, sing to him, and take care of him. Once I asked you to watch him while I was upstairs, and I came down to find that you had 1) changed his diaper, and 2) started giving him a bottle of expressed milk you pulled from the fridge. Incredible girl.

In the first few weeks after Evan came home, you kept asking "Am I in a dream? This feels like a dream." I completely understood. Having a new baby does feel like a dream, both in the excitement of it but also in the uncertainty from the lack of sleep. You are so smitten, and I imagine Evan will return the love as he grows and grows.

You can hardly leave Evan alone. You love to kiss him, hold him, pick him and and carry him around, talk to him, and be all up in his business. Sometimes it gets a little overwhelming, but most of the time it is done with pure sweetness and a genuine love. One day while I snapped pictures, you couldn't even leave him alone long enough to snap some frames. You jumped right in and started smooching:

Other fun developments from the past month include improving on your violin (yay!) and starting to play in t-ball games. It is very fun (and super entertaining) to watch a team of Kindergarten-aged girls as they hit, field, and make plays. You've actually got quite a few good athletes on your team and the parents are always pleasantly surprised to see you guys make some actual "outs." (though they aren't counted in t-ball). You've made some solid hits and helped with some solid plays. We love watching you, and you love playing.

I had to snap a photo of the occasion I managed to dress Evan in his baseball outfit for your game. We must document such things, as it is very rare that I have myself together at all. :)

You're a great little t-ball player: good fielder, great at bat. We just need a little fine-tuning on that throw of yours, but you are certainly tenacious on the field. :)

After months and months of sweetness, you've been more of a handful these past six weeks or so. Just the other day I was asking why obedience was so hard for you, and you told me that you need more attention and it's been hard since Evan was born. So true. I'm so glad you can express your needs so clearly. If only it was as easy for me to meet them! My sweet girl, please know that this phase is short and soon we will find our rhythm as a family of five. In the meantime, please continue to let me know how to love you and care for you the best I can.

Love you, honey pie.

Love,

Mama

Sam: 49 Months

Dear Sam,

"A day late and a dollar short..." that could be my personal motto these days. Adding one extra family member, running on little sleep, and the frustrations of a slow computer have made for one three late monthly updates in April. But here I am!

As far as big brothers go, you're pretty dang awesome. You are kind, gentle, and loving with baby Evan. You love to hold him and say "Hiiiii" in the sweetest sing-song voice. It's so, so sweet.

On the flip side of sweet, you've managed to maintain your sneaky/naughty side this month as well. Your latest capers involve sneaking candy of all sorts: a chocolate bunny, jelly beans, Tyler H.'s airhead collection. On Easter you escaped the hullabaloo to draw with blue crayon on the toilet seat, bathroom wall, hall walls, and in your bedroom. Nothing a little four year-old elbow grease and magic eraser couldn't handle. This month you also "fed" Maddie's new fish about a year's worth of food. It must have seemed like fish heaven for a minute when Bubbles and Sally experienced food raining down from the sky, covering their homes in abundance. Too bad I had JUST cleaned out the bowls. Ugh.

You still love to dress up, and change clothes multiple times a day. When your cousins were here visiting, you made an appearance as Buzz (and Batman, and a cowboy, and an astronaut, and an explorer, etc.) It's fun to see where your creative mind takes you these days. You've acquired an imaginary friend named Bob who is a cowboy zombie. Go figure that one out.

I've enjoyed putting into practice a brand new phrase around here: "my boys." It's so fun to have two sons. I can't wait to see how your friendship develops over the next several years. I can only hope that Evan loves his sibs as much as you guys love each other! Earlier this month Maddie got in trouble for making a big mess. You wanted so badly to help her clean up, even after Daddy said no, and you were positively heartbroken, breaking into huge tears. Eventually we released you to help out and you were so grateful to be able to work alongside your sister to ease her consequence. Amazing.

With so many changes going on, it's no surprise that you've sneaked in several naps this month. A few times you just climbed right up into my arms and passed out. So, so sweet (and so heavy. holy big boy). I love to watch you as you sleep, as when you start to wake you are so, so sweet and flash me the loviest little grins.

All the changes have also wreaked havoc on your speech. We haven't heard you struggle so much in several months. But we still have hope that you'll improve, and there are several promising things on the horizon that we're arranging to make things as helpful as possible for you.

In the midst of all these ups and downs, you remain the sweetest boy. You are such a love, such a delight, and we enjoy you so much.

Love,

Mama

Evan: two weeks

Well, not a lot has been happening 'round here these past few weeks, other than nursing, sleeping, resting, instagramming, and photo taking. :) So today's post is one big photo dump of some of my favorites from the past few weeks.

First up: shoulder hair. Seriously do not want to forget these precious early days and the fine, soft, downy hair that covers Evan's little body. Delicious.

Our first walk:

Evan's first trip to Sideboard:

Funny faces made in the milk-drunk phase:

Family snuggle time in the big bed:

Precious moments where all three are loving each other:

Watching Maddie in heaven as she was able to give Evan his first bottle of expressed milk:

And probably my favorite moments of the past few weeks--snuggling & napping away the hours with my newest little love bug:

A few pics from this morning:

He's so sweet! We love him to bits!

A Birth Story: Evan Michael

The last month of pregnancy was the best. I felt good most of the time, even with the lack of sleep, sore pelvis, and backache. But emotionally I was centered, filled with hope, and ready to meet my littlest love.

By week 39, I was ready to deliver. My body was aching under the strain of carrying a baby. I walked, hiked, did squats, tried everything I could think of to move Evan down. No luck. All three of my pregnancies, my babies carried SUPER high. I never once experienced the "drop" or lightening of labor. For the week leading up to Evan's delivery, I barely progressed from 1 to 1 1/2 cm dilation. 

I visited Dr. Wells (the best OB ever!) on Monday the 11th and asked about getting an induction date scheduled, in case my little guy didn't make any movements on his own. I was growing weary. According to my medical record, I turned 39 weeks on 3/14, so the soonest they could induce would be Thursday of that week (I kept pushing for an earlier DD because I knew the *exact* day of conception. Napa.)

Dr. Wells said he would call about Friday, or possibly the following Monday. It was good to know there was an end in sight, but by that point a week might as well been a month. It seemed so far away! I started praying for Friday. The number nerd in me was hoping for a birthdate of 3/11/13, 3/13/13, or 3/15/13. 

On Wednesday I called the doctor because I hadn't yet heard anything, and my mom and aunt were planning to drive down from Oregon to help out during our hospital stay. Dr. Wells called back late Wednesday to share the good news--Friday at 7:30am. He was going back and forth about whether to do a catheter or overnight pitocin drip, but ultimately decided I should just head in early in the morning and we'd hope to have our baby by early evening.

I was thinking that since things went SO FAST with Sam (2 hours 45 minutes from start of pitocin drip to delivery), that this labor would be similarly fast. Dr. Wells had his own thoughts about that, and of course, he was right. :)

I barely slept Thursday night. We all barely slept, actually. Sam and Maddie were both up twice. I couldn't sleep for a few hours in the middle of the night. Same with Ben. Our excitement level was at a major high. We called in at 6:30, heard there was a space, and I took a quick shower, ate a piece of peanut butter toast, drank half a cup of coffee, and in we went.

I should have given myself more time in the morning. I was planning to sleep as late as possible, but I should have planned to eat more breakfast. There was a long day ahead, and I would eventually regret not eating more before we left.

At 7:35 I was undressed and in my hospital room. At 7:45 they started the pitocin drip. My nurse's name was Mel and she had awesome tattoos all over her arms. An hour later, at 8:45, I was still at 1 1/2cm. No progress. Up went the pitocin drip, and continued to gradually increase at the rate of 4 ml/hr to 20 ml/hr at 11:00. 

By 11, I was having regular contractions every 2-3 minutes, but with no pain. They felt like Braxton Hicks, a gradual tightening. Evan's heartrate started sort of high but eventually settled between 130-170 bpm for the entire induction. 

I walked around my room from 8:45-11:45 in an effort to help labor along. I read three magazines during that time: People, Martha Stewart Living, and Oprah. I knitted for a bit. Ben and I took instagram photos. It was a pretty chill morning. Actually, one of the quietest and most peaceful mornings I've had in a long time. I thought about taking a nap, but it never happened. At some point I was quite hungry and ate a banana that I had brought along. That and ice chips kept me going.

At 1pm, Ben laid down for a nap. I took this picture and posted it to IG with the following description:

"Poor guy can hardly relax he's so excited."

At 1:15 I was 3+cm and Dr. Wells dropped by to rupture my membranes. At that point I started contracting every 2 minutes for several hours. At 1:30, Ben took a nap.

By 2:00, Ben was awake and my contractions were still every 2 minutes, but finally getting stronger. I was feeling them strongly at the top of the uterus. Amniotic fluid leaked out with each passing contraction. That hadn't happened with either of my previous pregnancies and it made me laugh.

Shortly after that, Ben took a scary picture of himself and posted to IG with this note: "Introducing Evan Michael. Looks just like his dad."

Needless to say, we were feeling a little bored and rather punchy.

But by 2:40 I started closing my eyes during contractions, growing quiet and concentrating. I was glad that things were getting more intense and hoped my cervix was opening in response.

I continued to walk around the room with my "diaper" to catch the leaks. By 4:15 I finally decided to call for the epidural. I didn't want to lose my window of opportunity btw really feeling the contractions and being overwhelmed by them.

The anesthesiologist arrived by 4:30 and the epi was live at 4:45. Starting at 5, I noticed a "window" of pain in the lower right quadrant of my body, much like I had with Sam's labor. It was as if all my contraction was intensified into that one spot between my right hip and pubic bone. It was pretty intense, even though everything else was numb. And then I started feeling nauseous.

I really, really did not want to be sick, so I mentioned it to Dr. Wells, who instantly recommended zofran. He said, "Zofran and (Pain MED), always take them when offered." So I did. The plastic barf bin was not needed, thankfully, though I kept it close through several contractions.

At 5:30, they checked my cervix and I was SO disappointed to hear it was only 4cm, though I was 90% effaced by then. The nurse told me every labor is different and not to worry, as the woman next door came in at 10cm dilated with her fourth pregnancy, pushed for FIVE hours, and ended up needing a vacuum-assisted delivery. I counted my blessings that the dilation was the long part and prayed the pushing would go quickly.

The lower right quadrant pain never went away. The anesthesiologist came back and gave me a second bolster of the epidural meds, hoping it would help. Eventually things softened, though I still was feeling quite a bit. And actually, this is just what I wanted. With Sam I felt like I was able to be in control of the pushing because I felt pressure but no pain. With Evan I would have pressure and a little bit more pain.

Dr. Wells stopped in and I asked him to make an educated guess as to when I'd be meeting my baby. He said he was planning on dinner with his wife so Evan would be here before 7:30. I laughed and it took the edge off momentarily.

At 6:20 I was up at 7cm. Transition. Finally. Before I knew it, I was 9 1/2cm, with just a tiny lip of cervix remaining. Dr. Wells told me that we'd start pushing shortly after 7.

7:00 rolled around and I was feeling SO MUCH PRESSURE. I felt like I was going to pee  and poo all over the table (this is a good sign that you're ready to go). 

At 7:05 I started pushing. Holy RING OF FIRE. With Maddie's delivery, I couldn't feel a thing. I was completely numb. With Sam's pushing stage, I felt a buzzing as his head descended. But with baby E, boy oh boy, this was a completely new experience. 

I enjoyed the experience. I could feel Evan's head descending bit by bit through the birth canal with each push. I noticed Dr. Wells and the attending Nurse watching the FHR monitor and making comments like, "He really doesn't like that, does he?" I asked if all was okay, and they reassured me things were fine but Evan didn't like the pushing. In between contractions, Dr. Wells would reach in and tickle Evan's head to keep his heart rate up and stimulated. It was NOT my favorite thing ever.

Also, I was SO hot. Like unbearably hot. I was sending Ben to get ice-cold washcloths for my face, neck, & chest every minute. He kept on replenishing them, bless his heart. And this is where I question the lovely ladies who wear full makeup to deliver. Had I been wearing any makeup at all, it would have been either removed or completely smeared all over my face because I was crazy with those washcloths. In between pushes on the video you can see me wiping myself down with reckless abandon. Hilarious. I really was hot.

At one point, Ben, Dr. Wells, and the nurse all said something to the effect of, "You're almost there!" and I asked "What do you ACTUALLY mean?" And they said maybe one more push, or one more set of pushes, and he'd be out.

The encouragement gave me that little bit of inspiration I really needed, and I grabbed my legs, pulled back hard and pushed just as much as my body could take. I felt like I was bursting every vein in my face I was working so hard. BURNING!!!!! BURNING!!!! OWWWWW!!!! BURNING!!!! 

And then, there was his head. I looked down and saw it myself. A face, a shoulder out, then his little left hand. I reached down between my legs and helped hoist him out onto my waiting chest. 

7:22. 17 minutes of pushing. Evan Michael Joyce entered our world with a full head of thick, dark, long hair, blue-gray eyes, lower half covered in thick vernix. I first noticed his little chin, tucked back. He was absolutely perfect. Even his head didn't look that misshapen, considering the journey he'd just endured. He was perfect!

We were able to snuggle for 15 or 20 minutes while the cord was clamped and cut, placenta delivered, and my tears sewn up. I soaked up every minute and was so thankful for a healthy baby who I could hold for so long and cover with kisses. I think I cried a few tears when he first came out but then I just couldn't stop smiling. The joy was thick.

Oh, and also: he pooped on me. Right in the middle of all that snuggling, Evan passed his first batch of sticky meconium. All over me, all over himself, and all over the receiving blanket.

They took him over the warming table to check vitals. Apgar scores were 8 and 9. He was so perfectly healthy and thriving. And I was SO grateful.

They put him on the scale for the moment of truth: 8 pounds, 14 ounces! My biggest baby yet, by almost 10 ounces!! 21 inches long (same as Sam and Maddie). The biggest surprise was the size of his head: 37cm! The nurse double-checked it because she couldn't believe it was so big. A few of the staff, including Dr. Wells, remarked how unusual it was to see 37cm, that the average was more around 34. No wonder I felt that ring of fire. Hello, cabeza gigantica!

Back in my arms, Evan latched right on and nurse for 20-25 minutes before the visitors started arriving. First, big sister Maddie, big brother Sam, Grammy & Auntie Cheryl. Maddie, as promised, was the first visitor to hold Evan. It was just as magical as we'd imagined:

 

And then the baby-hogging commenced. Between each family member, Maddie would fight for another chance to snuggle her baby brother, covering him with kisses. Maddie, Sam, Maddie, Grammy, Maddie, Daddy, Maddie, Tutu, Maddie, Boppa, Maddie, Jennie...you get the idea. When it was time to share, Maddie actually cried tears.

Grammy meets grandbaby # 6

Tutu & E

Auntie Jennie

Boppa and his new grandson, also his namesake

Finally, around 9, the nurses gently "kicked out" the visitors, all of whom were completely smitten with our little man. Right before it was time to go, Sam finally asked for his turn to hold the baby. He said "Hiiiiii!" and snuggled him so sweetly. Poor big brother was beyond tired at that point but his gentleness so made an impact on this Mama's heart. Maddie remarked, "I wish I could spend the night! Can I come back tomorrow??? Please?"

At 9:30 we were moved into a new room, and we got to ring the bell that plays the lullaby song on our way out of L&D. The new room was nice, and the floor was SO quiet. Evan nursed a little more in our new room before going to get his first bath at 10:30. He came back looking and smelling like heaven. I probably kissed his neck, face and head about a thousand times that night.

All night I barely slept. Not only were there vital checks to be done, a new baby to feed around the clock, but I couldn't stop looking at, thinking about, and snuggling my little love. He slept the whole night against my chest.

The next day the siblings came back for a long, fun visit. Maddie was excited to get her hands on her baby again. Then she decided they should take a nap together:

Heart. Melting.

Now our little Evan Michael is nearly a week old. :( It's gone by in a flash. He is nursing like a pro (holy ouchie nipples, though. yikes.). He sleeps most of the time, with a few short wakeful periods throughout the day. He still has a head of hair, and is covered with fine, soft, long blond hair on his ears, neck, shoulders, and arms. He still smells like heaven. We are so, so blessed.

Evan (from evangelist), meaning "the good news of God's grace"
Michael, meaning "gift of God"

And that is precisely how we feel about the fifth member of our family: he is a good, good gift from a God who loves us!! Welcome to our family Evan!