I just have to get this out . . .

I've spent the last week feebly trying to get my house ready for all the company that will be here for Quinn's blessing next week. You really can't tell that I've done anything. One of the big projects was getting the girl things put away so you could see the floor in Quinn's room.

Let me start by saying that I love my son and wouldn't trade him for anything. Yet as I was putting all the girl clothes away, I was kind of sad. I don't know how to explain it. Going through the clothes and remembering how I felt when I was pregnant with "her," I started missing her. It's not that I wish I had a daughter rather than a son, but I think that because I thought my baby was a girl for five months, I became attached to that idea. That is who my baby was.

When Quinn was born and we had a boy, I wasn't bothered at all. I love little boys and didn't really think about my girl again until this week. Now my little girl's existence fits in a 45"x35"x7" vacuum sealed bag and it's a little hard to take. It's not that I'm really mourning over her, but in a small way maybe I am.

Strangely enough I feel like I had two babies. I have a hard time associating my pregnancy with Quinn. When I think of the ultrasound pictures I don't think of Quinn, I think of my girl. It's really weird because that girl never existed, but packing up those clothes and writing about it now, I'm kind of sad--maybe the best way to say it is that I wish I had both my babies. This probably sounds super strange and I don't think anyone will really understand me unless you've been there, done that, but I wanted to record how I felt. This is my official goodbye to my girl.

Prego Pics

I finally broke down and bought a new media card, so here are the late belly pics. I think I was 41 inches around the week before delivery.

Calling all seasoned moms . . .

All right, I am asking for mom advice, so please share away and be as preachy as you like.

I have a dilemma. I am trying to figure out how to handle Quinn's sleeping habits. He is a very good sleeper and if he's ready, will fall away pretty quickly if we put him on our shoulder and pat his back. Then he sleeps well (a few hours at night and varying lengths for naps) before waking up to eat. He will occasionally fall asleep on his own, but is certainly happier with our help. However, I don't really want him to need us to put him to sleep forever. He is a very calm baby, but I want him to be able to soothe himself for our sanity as well as for future babysitters. Do I let him cry it out until he falls asleep? Today I left him in there for 20 minutes. For 13 of those minutes he was just fussy, then it turned into full blown crying and I finally picked him up, gave him a pacifier, held him for two and a half minutes and he was out. A pacifier will also put him to sleep, but that is another habit I don't want to start. What do I do? Get tough or spoil him? Or is he too young to worry about this? When should I start caring? So many questions!!!

An exciting first

In the last week Quinn has started smiling -- not often, but they are real smiles. The bummer for me is that he only smiles for Troy. That is not an exaggeration. I may get an occasional content smirk, but Troy gets gummy grins. What is the deal?!?!??!

My handsome boy

My sister Rachel spent the week with us so we took advantage of her far superior camera and had a photo shot. I'll post more later, but these are the ones I've been playing with for a birth announcement.

Blythe excitement

For those of you non-Blythers, I thought I'd share a little of our excitement on Thursday. It rained ALL day and the power went out around 3:45 p.m. Apparently that's when a tornado went through town. I don't have video of the actual storm, but here are some pics of the neighbor's house.

Here's a YouTube video of the actual storm.

Fortunately we came out unscathed. The storm did convince me that I will never have large trees in my yard. The power company gave no indication about when we'd have power again and I was nervous about having no power (and heat) with a four-day-old baby. Luckily we had power restored by 9 p.m. and Quinn was unaware that he had just been through the most exciting weather Blythe had seen or will see for quite some time.

He's Here!

That's right folks, our baby girl is a baby boy. And we are loving him!

Quinn Randall Peterson was born Sunday, January 17 at 11:56 a.m.

8 lb, 5 oz 20.5 inches

We went to the hospital Saturday evening for induction. Of course I hadn't slept much the night before and even though I didn't start feeling contractions until 4:00 a.m., I didn't get much sleep that night either. After pain, puking and passing out, by 8:30 I had my epidural (probably the best thing ever invented) and an hour and a half later I had diliated 4 more centimeters and was ready to push. Then things got tricky. They started pitocin to get regular contractions for pushing, but the baby--she at this point--didn't like it and the heart rate dropped. Troy got really worried but he hid it very well. Once they gave me oxygen his heart rate immediately recovered and I was so tired that I didn't think it was a big deal at all.

Once they had me start pushing, it became clear that this baby wasn't going to get here without help, so the midwife they originally called in to deliver attached the little suction thing to help get him through my pelvis. I thought it was simply a matter of me just not knowing how to push, but he was really stuck. No matter how hard she pulled there was no movement (keep in mind that I'm pretty oblivious to all this as it's happening). So they called in the actual doctor (hooray) and his yanking (that sounds so scary) didn't do much either. Troy said that at this point he and everyone else in the room was sure we were headed to the OR for a c-section, but they decided to give the forceps a try. Once the doctor figured out how to use them (they hardly are used at all anymore), our baby finally squeezed his way into our family.

Learning we had a boy really wasn't a shock. At our appointment a couple weeks before the doctor wasn't sure he was seeing a girl, but because he's not the ultrasound pro, couldn't say for sure. So we spent the next week and a half worried that we had an intersex baby on our hands. Let me tell you, it was a rough time. So when they said we had a boy, Troy and I weren't upset at all. Sure, we had pink clothes, but that is easy to handle.

I was then wheeled off to the OR to get stitched up and Daddy staying with the baby as they did all the regular testing. Quinn even got an x-ray to make sure his head wasn't damaged from the forceps delivery.

The worst part of the whole thing was waking up from the stitch-up. Between the epidural, general anesthesia, and having just delivered an 8 pound baby, I was miserable. The shaking was the worst, then the pressure from the swelling, add all that to running on seven hours of sleep in the last 54 hours and I was not in good shape. I remember being so overwhelmed by it all that I actually thought, "I know lots of people that want babies. I should just give this one to them." How awful of me! Now that it's over I think it's funny. I'm sure that's pretty normal because of all you've been through, but at the time, I really considered doing it. Thank goodness I didn't. He's bruised and a little yellow, but for the most part he's healthy and very happy.

I'm sure I'll have much more to say on the subject later, but for now, enjoy these pics of our little boy!

"Tanning" to keep jaundice at bay.

His standard "I'm full so leave me alone" look.

Making faces like his daddy.

We were sure he'd have obviously blue eyes, but they are VERY dark. It will be interesting to see what happens.