I, like, had a baby. And stuff.

Ah, life with two under two. (I pitched Two Under Two to TLC. They told me to have twenty-seven more children and get back to them. Anything less is a waste of their film.) But here are some photos to give you the general idea:





The last six weeks have flown by, between nursing the baby when she demands to be fed every hour (no lie) and changing as many diapers as there are hours in the day. Things I have not been doing: showering with any regularity, sleeping. I also have not been accessing the Internet. I think I've checked my email a total of three times in the last six weeks. I've received some very kind and thoughtful emails, comments and Twitter messages from some of you expressing concern over my whereabouts or how I'm doing. THANK YOU so much. I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to respond and/or post pictures on here, but I hope you understand. I'm still trying to figure out this new life of mine.

So...

Wednesday, March 25, 2009. I'm having contractions. Big deal, I'd been having contractions for the last four weeks. But these were different. By 1:45 AM, I'd woken up Nate with my wailing. We called Jill, who had so kindly agreed to come over and stay with Rhys in the event that I went into labor in the middle of the night. (Our families are two hours away.) By 2:15 AM, we were at the hospital. When we arrived, I was seven centimeters dilated. Two minutes later, I was eight centimeters. The nurses urgently paged my doctor. We were all worried that he wouldn't make it in time.

My contractions were getting stronger and closer together. I asked for an epidural. They told me it was too late. "Fine," I said. "Just give me drugs." They told me it was too late for drugs, they didn't even have me hooked up to the I.V. yet. That's when I began bawling.

My eleven-and-a-half hour labor with Rhys involved pitocin and an epidural. I had totally planned on having a natural birth this time, but that was when it was my choice. And, more importantly, I drafted that plan when I WASN'T IN LABOR. Oh well. Now I can judge other women that opt for pain management and make them feel inadequate by telling my natural childbirth story at every given chance.

Suddenly, I felt the urge to push. They told me I couldn't because the doctor wasn't there yet.

"KEEPIN' IT REAL MOMENT" OF THIS POST: Have you ever been driving when suddenly you have to go to the bathroom so badly, you have to stop at a gas station because you don't think you'll make it home in time? Sure, you have. Imagine you make it inside the gas station bathroom and someone there offers you a million dollars to hold it. And you tell them, "KEEP YOUR MONEY." That's precisely what it feels like when your baby is ready to be born before the doctor gets there.

Then, like an angel in the night, my doctor showed up. With a police officer trailing him for speeding. I could finally push!

Three pushes later, a half-hour after we arrived at the hospital (!), Charlotte Vivienne was born. I know there's a lot of hyperbole involved when it comes to describing the experience of childbirth, but I can say this with complete honesty. Just as with Rhys, when Charlotte was born, I felt her soul enter the room.

Look at those cheeks! She's storing acorns for winter.

No, that's not a coon skin cap, she really has that much hair. It reminds me of Bret's hair helmet. (FOTC, holla!)

Her first trip to the salon.

Rhys came to meet his sister and to bring me some flowers.

Seeing Rhys brought tears to my eyes. Not only because I missed him, but because his hands, feet, head, everything about him seemed HUGE all of a sudden. It was like he grew overnight. He isn't my baby anymore!

But he LOVES his baby sister and is very good with her. He wants to do everything for her, like carry her into the house.

And get her out of her car seat.

But not before giving her a kiss.

Here is our little Charlie girl now, six weeks later.

My two beautiful, healthy blessings.

And now it's time to feed the baby again. Have I ever told you about my natural childbirth?