He's Here!

Left ya hangin' a bit, didn't I?

Well, as you may have already guessed, our little bundle of happiness was born. Actually, he was born not too long after the last posting. It was quite easy this time around. I did end up getting the epidural which helped a lot. I still felt the contractions coming on and they were strong, but I felt in control. Three pushes and the little guy was out.

Before I was wheeled away to the recovery room, Gusi and my mom came by. It was so incredible to see how happy Gusi was at the thought of his little brother finally making his appearance. I have to say that I'm quite impressed at how Gusi is handling this. He wants to hug, kiss, snuggle and hold his baby brother all the time. And even though we've got friends and family coming to see the new baby, he's quite happy to see everyone himself.

The question that now pops into my mind is how will Gusi adapt to going back to Dakar? The baby is easy enough, but Gusi will go through another enormous change and he's more conscious of his surroundings now. I hope it goes smoothly.

In any case...I'm now the mother of TWO. Life is about to take us to a new level of love.

Let's Get the Party Started

History has a way of repeating itself. With Gusi I was scheduled for an induction on a Tuesday and went into labor late Monday night on my own. This time around I was scheduled for an induction on Wednesday and went into labor on my own Tuesday night. The big difference this time is that I've got wi-fi at the hospital.

I'm about 3cm dilated, hooked up to some pitocin to make the contractions stronger so labor progresses, Papi is reading the newspaper, Gusi is with my mom riding the bus around town, and I am being a 21st century mom by blogging my labor away. Will it work? Who knows.

In the meantime...ouch! Contraction! Let's see how long I last without the epidural...that was pretty good last time after all. But really, why suffer needlessly?

No Later than Wednesday

This is not how I planned my labor and delivery. I was going to deliver my second child on his due date with a +/- of one to two days. That was what I had intended. Yet somehow, this child did not get the memo on "the plan". I'm now three days past my due date and will be induced on Wednesday if he decides to hold out on me.

This happened with Gusi as well. I was one week late, had an induction scheduled for a Tuesday morning but ended up going into labor on my own the night before. My doctor was surprised to see me at the hospital before she even got there that morning. So, at 41 weeks, I delivered a healthy, bouncing baby boy. I had hoped that I would be able to do the same at 40 weeks this time around. Surely I had paid my pregnancy dues in full? Yet it would appear that I haven't since I'm now approaching the 41 mark and no baby.

It looks like I've passed on my procrastination genes to my children. I was always doing my term papers at the last minute and cramming for exams no matter how hard I tried to study ahead of time. They are like me. My friend Sarah, who just had her second little girl a week and a half ago, said that perhaps this little guy just needs a deadline--a "must vacate by" kind of deadline. It does seem to have worked for Gusi. So, hopefully he knows now that I'm posting it: your eviction will be enforced on Wednesday come rain or shine.

Beckett on my Mind

These days I feel like I am caught--no, trapped--in a Samuel Beckett play. Specifically Waiting for Godot. In case you're not familiar with it, it's a story of two men who spend the entire play waiting for this guy named Godot who is supposedly an acquaintance. The problem is that they aren't sure they'd recognize him if he walked by and even though one of them wants to leave, he's told that he can't until Godot arrives. The two spend the play rambling about Biblical and philosophical matters to pass the time. Godot never arrives.

This is my scenario. I am waiting for my own Godot. I cannot do much of anything until he arrives, I wouldn't recognize him if I saw him on the street yet I feel like I know him quite well. Of course, late at night when I can't sleep, I ponder my existence, his existence and our intertwined destinies though we've never met. He has yet to arrive.

I hope my story ends differently than Beckett's...being pregnant for the rest of my life would be tough.

Let the Pains Begin

I know it's been a while since I've written. It's been a hectic few weeks: PapaGus arrived from Dakar and we've been enjoying our time with him after a two month absence, including celebrating his birthday (though Gusi got to blow out the candles). It's been my chance to get things done: buy those last baby items I need, wash the baby clothes, run errands and chase my own tail apparently. But now almost all of that is done, at least all the important parts.

We've celebrated a birthday, seen the first games of the Beijing Olympics and nested as much as possible. I am now ready. Ready. Ready. Ready. Last week I went in to see the obstetrician and found out that I am 1cm dilated and 50% effaced--basically the (slow) process is under way but far from over. I'm 39 weeks pregnant and now even Gusi is a bit bored with the pregnancy. A few days ago he inched up to my tummy and told his little brother "come out and play!" I laughed and couldn't have said it better myself. I want to see what this little one will be like, to hold him, to count his fingers and toes, to smell him. Yes, the pregnancy has gone by faster this time around, but I'm convinced that it was only because I had Gusi to chase after. But now I'm ready. Ready. Ready. Ready. I want all my boys at home, together, soon, before PapaGus has to go back to Dakar. So, let the pains begin so we can get this show on the road.