Three: Born! In the U.S.A.!

The day has crept away from me and it's now 1:17 a.m. and my baby is so peacefully asleep beside me and I just can't follow suit- and I am adding to what I have written before which I now realize began in the same fashion. I would delete this now, but I think there is meaning in it.

***

Sometimes, it's 2:45 a.m. and everyone is sleeping but you, and you lay awake thinking about things that you can't do now or maybe ever and you know you should probably go to sleep, but you just don't. And sometimes that happens a lot.

Several weeks ago, my Grandma Gloria passed away. And it was a strange thing, because I hadn't seen her in so many years, and so suddenly I began to sink beneath the present day into the thick musty nostalgia of my childhood. This my friends, is a dangerous thing, because there you will feel so flooded by the warmth of innocence that it becomes frightening to return to the surface. After moments of thinking and remembering, I felt so sick with regret that I wanted to puke. I wished I would have visited with her more. I wished that I knew more about her.

When my dad called to tell me she was not doing well and that it wouldn't be long, I planned to bring Sunnie to meet her. It was important to me that this happened. My heart needed it, and so did my soul. She passed away the night before we were going to visit her. I found out that morning.

I never knew much about her and I don't know why, but I just didn't. My dad told me that she wanted Sunnie to have a quilt that she had. We found the quilt in her room, along with a scarf and a photo of her with my dad at the beach when he was just one year old and we took these things and left. And when I looked at the quilt, I saw that ironically, it had little suns all over it. I don't know how, or why, or what made it happen, but on that trip my dad told me about her and about his childhood and about things I had always wondered about but had never really asked. And suddenly, my soul felt whole, and I became aware that something had been gone from it all this time. And on the ride home the sun was setting, and it was so giant and orange that I almost felt as if I were breathing it in.

My Grandma Gloria weighed one pound when she was born and her parents brought her home in a shoebox. She struggled physically and mentally her entire life because of it, but she lived. A one pound baby in 1938 and she lived. It all made sense. Sunnie was here because my Grandma Gloria lived. There is absolutely no reason that she survived such a circumstance other than the fact that Sunnie was supposed to be here. And so was I. And so was my dad. And so was every single person that is, has been, and will be here in this strange spinning world. And I felt the presence of God so powerfully as I thought this. I just knew that she was important. That she HAD to be here so that I could as well. And this made me feel important and I felt purpose and purpose for all.

I think that one of the most valuable things this life can offer is hearing others' stories. When I was young, I read The Bell Jar and it changed my life. And The Catcher in the Rye. It changed my life too. And I would think to myself, if I never would have read this story, I would've robbed myself of part of who I am. Do you understand what I mean? I feel like we need to know about what others go through and about their lives and what broke their heart and what filled it. We are not just one person that is so completely untouched by the moving and grooving of all the other people in this world. In this life, we float by others and the dust from their worn and weathered beings brushes off and onto ours and sometimes we chose to pat it off, and sometimes maybe still some remains upon us, and then sometimes we choose to let it be. I am so grateful for the lives of others that have inspired mine. I am so grateful for knowing that I am not just me- that there are people whose dust rests on my shoulders, and for their stories which help me to see beyond my own world. And I hope that I won't be too proud or too busy so often, and forget that. That Sunnie is here, because somebody else was here. That my life is meaningful because somebody else's was.

And by her three months here, Sunnie:

• Has laughed. One of the most beautiful wonderful moments I've been a part of on this Earth. And she has only done it one and a half times so far, but I was so grateful that Jordan was able to experience it with me. Truly, truly a blessing.
• Is completely aware of me. She really knows me and looks for me and interacts with me and likes me.
• Finds entertainment in kicking her hanging car (which she prefers over the hanging keys), looking at herself in the mirror (usually brings smiles, sometimes tears), playing in "Jungle World", and oddly enough diaper changes.
• Is a hand sucker.
• Grabs and holds onto things
• ...especially Giraffey
• And even more especially, her foot. She is maybe in love with her left foot. She, by some unnatural force/desire, is able to pull her foot to her mouth and has even made mouth-to-toe contact. I am both puzzled and impressed. This is her thing.
• Ditched the mullet for a semi-bowl cut. I mean, it makes sense in the historical order of style though. I suppose curled bangs and crimping is just around the corner and then probably the "Rachel" from friends.
• Is now sportin' size two dipeys. And depending on her mom's ability to make a decision and quit being a fence-sitter, maybe cloth dipes soon instead. (I just can't freaking decide okay? Sue me.)
• Wants to talk. She makes so many noises now and I can tell she's got somethin' to say.

So guys, maybe this is what being adult is- making doctor appointments for someone else and getting rid of (almost) all of your band t's. Sure, sometimes I eat cheesecake for breakfast...at 12 p.m. and yeah maybe I still self consciously feel that people think I'm a teen mom when I'm at the grocery store and wearing my kid brother's basketball shorts, and most of the time I don't know how to properly operate Netflix and have to call Jordan at work to walk me through the steps, but you know- I think I'm really starting to believe I'm an adult. I always thought of my mom as "a mom" you know- like as a grown-up- but I'd bet money that she didn't always feel like it, in fact I know she didn't. I guess that's what's important though, that you do what you can for your kids so that they see you as the "grown-up"- the one that's got it together. Kids need that. I guess that's all you can do. Give it your all. Get rid of your Jimi Hendrix tee shirt and stick it to your phone-anxiety and just make those appointments. And when you eat dessert items for breakfast in the late afternoon, you'll remember how much love you have for that baby and you kind of just feel okay about it. And you remember that there are millions of other almost-twenty-six-year-olds out there eatin' cheescake for breakfast too, and if they're not- they are doing something else they feel insecure about and they have their story too.

Just the ol' pooping face

Second stage pooping face

"No I did not just poop, why do you ask?"

Favorites from this past month

Welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games

Sometimes, she like to hold her little pringle ears. Most of the time, she likes to cuddle Giraffey

Toes: My favorite of the food groups

Spent the 4th at Great Grams' house and enjoyed the company of this frog

Two: "Check it and see"

Time has never been a friend of mine. Of course I am writing this two weeks past when I was supposed to, and I'd like to blame "having a newborn baby", but quite frankly, Sunnie is a really easy goin' kid and I'm just really crappy at punctuality.

The finale of Month Two was highlighted by our first real scare as parents (other than when we were walking out of the hospital, fresh new baby in tow, and the nurses were like "alright kids, you're on your own now" and I realized I no longer would have daily room service and someone to tell me immediately if the snorting sound my baby was making was normal). Sunnie had her two-month check-up, during which she received a handful of vaccinations. I didn't know that the vaccinations were happening at that appointment so I wasn't prepared with a lifetime supply of internet literature to help me decide if we should go through with it or not, so I made a quick decision to trust the doctor, who had gone to medical school, unlike myself. Any-who, so the doctor tells me that babies will either mega-sleep or mega-freak after the vaccinations. She tells me what to do if the babe gets a fever and blah blah and blah. I'm obviously not able to listen because Sunnie is being a little fussy at this point. So after the shots, we head home with a mega-sleeping Sunnie. Good. Because that means I didn't have to remember the other stuff the doctor told us.

Rookie mistake, folks. We get home and Sunnie is totally out. A few hours pass and I'm gettin' things done around the house wasting my life away looking at Grumpy Cat memes or something equally worthless. Then out of nowhere, Sunnie lets out this blood-curdling cry. Naturally, I assume David Bowie has stolen my child whilst wearing the most incredible spandex pants imaginable.  I immediately jump up with the speed of a thousand cheetahs and pick her up. I run down the checklist- poops? no. hangry? no. bored? no. bitten by spider, snake, rabid squirrel, or scorpion (just some of my maternal fears)? no. She is just crying and crying and her little face is so red and this goes on and on for at least an hour straight.

So I'm bouncing her and rocking her and whispering "mommy's here" and all other things that you do when you are confused and worried about your new baby. She's never cried that way before so at this point my heart is racing a wee bit. So I whip out the thermometer and wedge it into her little baby armpit, which isn't easy because she's sort of flailing about. So with one hand I check her temperature, with the other I'm reading the instructions, and by use of magic I'm still holding and rocking her. Her temperature is just barely into the fever range, so naturally, I have a panic attack and think that I have to go to the hospital immediately. After calling Jordan in hysterics and once he is home, I rush to CVS, calling every eight seconds to ensure that he hasn't fallen down the stairs with Sunnie (another fear of mine) and that she is still breathing. Once at CVS, I literally look like I've gone mad- pacing the floor and desperately searching for infant Tylenol (which apparently is only sold as the generic version since it basically was the worst and then double the worst because it made me search desperately for it until asking the sales clerk who informs me that they no longer sell it because it's the worst). 

So frantically, I race home- like as if I've got to stop a bomb from detonating or dismantle a nuclear weapon that's going to end the existence of mankind or a Chipotle just opened up in town- because that's how maternal instincts work. To make this already long story short- We administer the generic tylenol, Sunnie goes to sleep, and I quietly check her temperature throughout the night, which of course, I don't sleep during. Sunnie was fine, but it was terrible. I was traumatized. Folks, pay attention to your doctor.

Since becoming a parent, a minute hasn't gone by without imagining all possible things that could happen to Sunnie. When I'm in the shower, driving, sleeping, what have you, I am thinking to myself "is she okay", "is the bookshelf going to fall on her if there is a sudden earthquake", you know- all the typical worries of a parent. The exhaustions of a new parent are not the lack of sleep and the overabundance of diaper changes- it is the worrying. 

And not just because human babies are one of the very few creatures who are completely dependent upon their parents once they are born. But you see, I think I will worry always. Even when she is married and has her own babies. I will worry. And I'm okay with it, because if it means that it will help me to keep her safe in this world, that's really all that matters. 

So by two months new on this big blue planet, Sunnie

• Smiles all the time. She's a happy kid.
• Is a fairly decent sleeper. She consistently sleeps until four-thirty or so in the morning, so I at least have that block of time that I know I'll get some rest.
• Has kicked acid reflux to the curb. Still spits up a bunch though.
• Has been to the zoo. Slept the whole time.
• Is happiest in the mornings, right after the first diaper change.
• Loves all things that hang above her- fans, lights, dangling sheep, what have you.
• Always wants to look around. Doesn't wanna miss a beat. 
• Still loves for Paul McCartney to sing to her. I'm just going to assume she always will.
• Goes by the aliases Sundrop, Sunnie Bug, Sun, Baby Sunnie, Little Jordie, and Baby Mouse Ears (She has inherited her father's childhood set of ears)
• Has grown back some of the front of her hair. Has lost some of the back. Still has her alfafa spike.
• Is a guaranteed blue-eyed baby
• Isn't the swaddlin' type. She's more into the starfish. All extremities stretched out.
• Enjoys bath time

We still have an occasional foot-into-poop-dipey mishap, and I never know what day it is, but we're starting to "figure it out".

One: April Showers Bring May Flowers

On April 4th, my water broke. On May 4th, I had a one month old living, breathing, growing, baby.

The strange thing with having a baby is, never in my life would I have thought that eating, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, or being able to pee would become a luxury. Babies are inconvenient. They don't care that you are a healthy twenty-five year old who is about to poop your pants, they are gonna cry uncontrollably so that you can't lay them down and do your business. They are gonna spit up in your cleavage or pee on your bed and they are going to do it at the most inconvenient time imaginable. They are the Honey Badger and they don't give a bleep. But they are also the most beautiful, perfect, amazing beings this world could ever know. (They also are a pretty good buffer for awkward situations like oh, um, I guess I'll just pretend that I'm checking on my baby in her carseat while I sit here trying to avoid interacting socially with other mature adults). Sunnie is my best friend. She really is.

So if you're curious what Sunnie has been up to one month deep into this jungle we call life, she :

• Still loves "Let it Be" by Paul McCartney. She can be hysterical, but when that song comes on, she becomes completely calm. It was on the playlist I made for her and listened to while pregnant, so perhaps she finds it familiar
• Still looks like dad, but a little like mom also. Well, just her mouth but I'll take what credit I can.
• Likes to lift her head up all the time. She loves to look at the world.
• Went from weighing 6.9 lbs. when she was born to 8.12 lbs. at her one month check-up
• Has learned to appreciate diaper changes 
• Almost only cries after nursing. Acid reflux. The worst. 
• Sleeps the best at night (Thank you!)
• Has lost some of her baby hair. The front. So basically we're working with a baby mullet.
• Loves to stare at faces
• Has grown out of some of her newborn clothes (Oh, my heart)

It was never real to me, that I would be writing about my one month old baby. I just kinda never believed it would happen- even once she was here in flesh and blood- I still just can't believe it. The days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds- they are just melting off and away and I can't seem to hold on closely enough to them. I want so badly to remember every hair, every blink, every breath of her every moment and it frustrates me to the bone knowing that I can't. I just stare at this little tiny girl and cling to her tightly and fear for the day that she is no longer small enough to lay on my chest. When she cries, my heart breaks and when she smiles my heart bursts. She is just one month old and already changing and growing so quickly. There is a love and a truth that I have never known until the moment I heard her first cry and in that moment, that love and truth hit me so hard that I still haven't caught my breath.

She is my Sunshine and she is my moon and my stars and the sky and the air and absolutely everything and all at once and always.

Forty: Early Bird

Against all genetic odds, Sunnie came four days early.

At roughly two-thirty in the morning, my water began leaking (after a late night pee-trip and a handful of sour gummy worms from my Easter basket). I was a little confused and thought maybe I had peed myself, which I suggested when I called the hospital and spoke with the nurse. Once I was certain (the nurse told me to walk around and see if I continued "leaking"- I did), we started to grab our bags and last minute items to bring to the hospital. Jordan was calm and cool. I couldn't even think. On the drive to the hospital we both were pretty quiet, uncertain what the next hours would bring. When we arrived, the nurse confirmed that my water had indeed broke.

This was not the plan. I never thought my water would break. It wasn't at all like it is in the movies- water gushes, lady freaks out, hunches over in pain, rushes to the hospital. Nope. In fact, it was suspiciously uneventful. At this point, I hadn't even felt much more than what I believed to be Braxton Hicks. In my head, I'm thinking, Oh gosh, they are going to send me home. I innocently asked the nurse when she would check my cervix to see if I was far along enough to get to stay at the hospital (it's sort of weird to blog the word cervix). Oh you silly, silly girl, Pre-baby Jessica. The nurse politely sang Hotel California to me told me that basically once your water breaks, you don't leave without a baby. I was not leaving without a baby..

I would tell you about the next sixteen hours, but then I would be giving you a piece of my soul. There are things during those many many hours that I felt and experienced and endured with Jordan that have grafted themselves onto my bones and have become who I am. I just cannot give that away.

What I can tell you, is that there is nothing that could have prepared me for it. There is no book, no advice, no nothing that could have prepared me. There were moments when the pain felt so unrelenting that I truly thought I could not do it. I can tell you this though- that no human, nor earthly thing, could have carried me through such an experience. I remember praying aloud, or even crying aloud, to God to just be with me. I remember needing Him so desperately and in a cloudy haze of sheer anguish and turmoil, I remember Jordan whispering into my ear and I do not remember what he said to me, but I remember a moment of clarity and calm amidst all that was not. At 9:03 in the evening, mercy and love was shed upon me and our daughter was born into this world, safely and naturally, and immediate comfort followed. I will never, ever understand how I made it through. It is unfathomable. I can only think of this-

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not on thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths"
-Proverbs 3:5-6

In her first week of life, Sunnie

• Looks just like her Dad
• Hiccups just as much as she did in my belly. It's so sweet and miraculous to think that I used to feel those hiccups inside of my belly. Unreal.
• Loves for her Dad to hum to her. Her favorites are "I Am a Child of God", "Love One Another",  and the creepy song from the elf scene in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
• Has pooped, a lot, including three projectile poops which I have since figured out how to defend myself against
• Likes to be held and swayed by the fan
• Doesn't love diaper changes
• Likes her feet curled up, just like a little frog (she did this while in my belly also)

Now here I am, sitting here watching this tiny little girl, wondering where the time went, and my heart is breaking and full all at the same time. 

I remember when I awoke around four in the morning in early August, having dreamt that I was pregnant. I remember stumbling to the bathroom in a sleepy confusion and taking the test. I remember when I saw the two blue lines. I remember looking away and then at it again several times in utter disbelief. I remember the first time we heard her heartbeat. I remember the first time we saw her tiny hand and I remember counting to make sure she had all five fingers. I remember knowing she would be a girl and I remember finding out that she was. I remember crying all the time, worried for her- desperately wanting for her to be healthy and safe and I remember desperately waiting to feel her move. I remember holding my hands on my belly and feeling her rolling and kicking and trying to imagine what she looked like. 

I remember it all and I remember how badly I wanted to hold her and see her- and now she is here and she has changed so much already

I want to cry because I'm happy and I want to cry because I'm sad. I'm sad because in every moment I remember, I remember thinking that time was going so slowly and I just wanted her to be here. And I remember being in labor and the pain was so unearthly that I thought I would never get through it. And I remember when I held her for the first time in both of our lives and I remember leaving the hospital and wondering how I would figure out "being a mom" once I was home and I remember sitting here beginning to write this all down and that's just how quickly time does go by. The other night Jordan and I sat and watched her sleep and I cried. I just am so overwhelmingly terrified that if I blink, she'll grow up and I'll miss it. I don't even know why I am saying all of this, but I guess it's just so that one day I can read this and remember that one time, Sunnie was a little baby and she was absolutely perfect and I loved her so powerfully and she was the closest to God I had ever been. I hope I never forget feeling this way and I hope my heart doesn't break too much as she grows, because that is a wonderful thing. It truly is wonderful that one day, she will love certain music and have certain passions and think her own thoughts and wonder about the world and learn to know God all on her own. 

I love who she is and I love that she can become.

I am scared and I am happy and I know that she was meant to be here with us. I know that with every fiber of my soul. 

Thirty-Nine: You Are My Sunshine

She is here and she is beautiful and I have so much I could say, but I am overwhelmed with such deep love and amazement, that it wraps around the soul so tightly and takes all breath away.

Sunnie Ana Rose Sorensen
April 4th, 2013

Thirty-Eight: 10, 9, 8

and a Happy Easter

The end of this week began the single-digit count down of days until Baby's due date.

First of all, folding baby clothes takes the same skill-set as creating Origami. I still don't get how you fold something that tiny. Maybe I'll become so super good at it, that I'll make little animals like they do at fancy resorts with the hand towels. Probably not, whatever.

This week has been mostly ordinary. It started with snow on the ground and ended with beautiful seventy-degree Spring weather. The middle week was a blur of yoga pants and unwashed hair. I'd have to say that the absolute best part of this week was that Summer, one of my most favorite people of all time, returned home from a year and a half long mission. Other exciting and wonderful news includes the birth of the first (two) babies from our Centering group- a set of healthy twin girls. Other new babies were born this weekend to friends as well.

And that just blew me away- that these other girls, who have been sort of going through this all along with me, have their babies here now. That means that I will too, and I just cannot fathom it. I am as prepared as I can be- bags packed, ready to go- but nothing, absolutely nothing, could prepare me for our baby to actually enter this world- to be able to really hold her and see her. It is just so beyond what I understand of this world, and it makes me so profoundly certain that there must be a God- it shakes me to the core.

So now it's the waiting game. Day and night, my mind is restless. I've chosen not to be checked for dilation, so I have no idea where things are at progress wise. All I know, is that soon enough, I will be somebody's mother in the most eternal and tangible way.

Look at these monsters. One day, I'll have ankles again

Thirty-Seven: Belly Full

Here we are. Both full-term and full-load.

With three exams this week, I was able to keep myself fairly occupied, so the week went by quickly. Friday, we had our first "week-to-week" appointment. My Strep B test was negative, so of course that was good news (not that I really understand what Strep B is). I expected some kind of cervical exam, basically one of the super personal kind to tell if I had any progress, but not this time. It was by far the quickest appointment we have ever had during our pregnancy. Since we've met all of the midwives minus one, so we scheduled our next appointment with her.

Saturday, I met my mom in Roanoke to shop for all the last minute baby items. There are few things I less than shopping, especially at the mall, and even more especially pregnant. Mostly, I got what I needed, but at the price of my feet's comfort. By the end of the evening, I considered a wheelchair. Going along with that, let me list you several items worth the money while pregnant and items that are not. (Here's my unsolicited advice for you):

Worth the $

• Comfortable shoes- I would recommend one casual pair and one dressy. By dressy, I don't mean heels- unless, that is, you are a complete idiot. But seriously, spend a little extra here. The only pair I've bought while pregnant was from Walmart a week ago- I'm an idiot.
•  Maternity pillow- You don't have to buy the most expensive one out there, but you do absolutely need one. I have two which I sometimes use interchangeably or together. Totally worth it. I wouldn't be able to sleep at all without one.
• A good bra- I didn't, but you should. I just now finally bought a couple of sports bra type bras, but they are a little more comfortable. The past couple of months, my boobs have hated me. Don't make your boobs the enemy. 
• Maternity tank tops- Just two to three. And just tank tops and if you're wise, in neutral colors. They are longer and stretchier than regular tank tops and they can expand your pregnancy wardrobe by adding length to regular shirts.

Don't bother

• Maternity clothes- Goodwill it. I bought a few actual maternity items from Old Navy and Motherhood. They were super expensive and I grew out of them in just a couple of months or even less. At some point, I grew a brain and started going to Goodwill like once a week. You can find some really cute stuff and you are saving so much money. I even found some maternity clothes at Goodwill that were name brand and really nice. You will grow and grow and grow until the baby's born so there is absolutely no point in spending a bunch'a money on maternity clothes from department stores. And honestly, if you can- don't bother with jeans. Leggings and dresses are essential if you want to be comfortable.

That's all I got for ya now, but seriously, this is pretty valid advice. 

Well week thirty-seven was short but well-lived. I have waited so long to say that I'm full-term, and now that I can, it is all too surreal. Sometimes I'm just hanging out and thinking thoughts and then suddenly it really hits me- like right in my heart, so heavy I can feel it- that any day now, I can become a mother, that I will be one. That I will be the most responsible person in the entire world for this little person's life. And I just cannot fathom it. I can't really believe such a thing, because it is the most powerful, wonderful, intimidating, beautiful thing I can imagine. But it will be real. I don't know what to say. It is too profound for words really. 

So as I sit here, at 2:40 a.m. with heartburn, acid indigestion, puffy legs, swollen feet, and insomnia, I try to remember that soon enough, I will never just be me again. I'll be a mother. And I will never be pregnant for the first time with my first baby again. There will be no other experience just like this one. So I have to remember that. Even when it takes a fifteen-step process to roll to my other side and even when I wake up to pee at 7:00 a.m. and can't fall back asleep until 8:50 and have to wake up for class at 9:00, I have to remember that this time, these moments right now, are so precious in the grand scheme of things. I want to always remember that. 

Now here we are at the end of week thirty-seven. I am ready when she is. Even if I won't think so when it's time, I will be. Because I love her and I want to show her this world and how to be happy in it. And I can do that, just because I love her.

So, here we go.