Introducing. . . Matthew James Wright!

If you follow my blog, you know that my due date is August 26. Well, God and Baby W. apparently had other plans. Matthew James Wright was born August 1 at 0640. He weighed in at 6 lbs, 4 oz and was 19.5 inches long.

And here's the story of how it happened. . .

Beginning around the middle of last week, I started feeling a little funny. I was extremely exhausted and just not feeling well. Not feeling sick, just not feeling well. On our Thursday night walk with Oskar, I told Jonathan I had a feeling that Baby W.'s arrival was just around the corner. My guess was within the next two weeks. On Friday, we had our household goods delivered (FINALLY!), and we spent the next two days unpacking and arranging our house. I tried to take it easy, but anyone who has ever PCS'd knows how much work there is to do, and I just could not sit by and make my husband do everything by himself. By the time Sunday rolled around, I was physically drained. I actually slept until almost 10:30 that morning (quite a feat considering Baby W. normally starts punching my bladder and demanding food around 7:30 every day). The day was supposed to be a lazy one; a bit of cleaning, a bit of laundry, and a lot of catching up on rest. I had plans to clean the whole house (I may be pregnant, but I'm still OCD-clean) but was exhausted after completing only the upstairs portion. Jonathan went to the store to get a few groceries, and I settled down on the couch to relax for a bit.

When he returned, we decided burgers on the grill would be on the menu tonight, so Jonathan went to work preparing his patties. Once finished, he put them in the fridge to let them marinate for a bit and settled down on the couch with me to watch the Cubs vs. Cardinals game. All of the sudden, I felt a pop and a gush. It was like I was peeing my pants and couldn't stop. I jumped up. "I think my water just broke!" I yelled. I ran to the bathroom, holding my crotch, hoping I didn't drip anything on the floor (especially urine, for which Jonathan would have made fun of me mercilessly). When I got to the bathroom, I discovered it definitely was NOT urine and yelled for Jonathan to call the hospital. He turned into Superman. Within minutes, he had changed clothes, packed a bag for me, taken Oskar out to go potty, and had me in the car on the way to the hospital.

I wasn't having any contractions; in fact, I wasn't having kind of pain or discomfort at all. I was so worried I was going to show up and be told I had just peed my pants. By the time we got to the hospital, I was back-tracking my story. "Well, I think my water broke. I don't know. Maybe not." The ER sent me up to Labor and Delivery, where I met a wonderful nurse named Chloe who started running some tests on me to determine if my water actually broke. 4 hours and 3 tests later, it was confirmed that my water did indeed break. We had to wait for the doctor to come before beginning the induction process, so Jonathan went home to take Oskar for a walk and get me some food (no burgers on the grill for me tonight; he came back with Del Taco, the only thing open at 2300). Once Dr. Barnes showed up, we decided that because I wasn't having any contractions at all, I should first be given medicine to soften my cervix and make it "ripen" (doctor's words, not mine--totally gross) for induction. I was only given half a dose of the medicine just to make sure it didn't adversely affect Baby W. They told me it would take about 4 hours to take effect; they would check on me at 0330 and then begin the induction process. They estimated that I would probably actually give birth Monday night. My body had other plans.

Jonathan and I settled in to try and get some sleep; after all, it seemed like labor was going to be a LONG process, and I was already exhausted. However, about an hour after the "ripening" medicine, I began to have contractions. Each one seemed more painful than the last, and they seemed to be rapidly getting closer and closer together. I didn't understand it. This wasn't the way labor happened in movies. On screen, they were always timing the contractions (10 minutes apart! 8 minutes apart!), and it took awhile before they got so close together. I tried to grin and bear the pain for awhile, but I finally had to call Chloe in my room. Two doses of morphine later, and I was still in pain, but the doctor was adamant about not checking me until 0330. When that time finally came, I was writhing in agony and the doctor was in shock: I was already 6 cm. She paged frantically for the anesthesiologist to start my epidural but, in true military fashion, there were loads of queep and extraneous paperwork to be done before he could administer anything (although I had already filled out the necessary paperwork the week before, he "couldn't find" my signed copies). By time HE was finally ready, I was vomiting, crying, and pleading for something, anything, to make the pain stop. . . and was then told that it was too late for the epidural. It was time to push.

However, because I was in such extreme pain, I couldn't un-tense my muscles long enough to push. I was given a local anesthetic and an oxygen mask to help relax me, and away we went. Unfortunately, the anesthetic only lasted an hour; I had to push for two. After it wore off, however, the pain was so intense that the only thing I could to ease it WAS push. But my body was wearing out. I was more exhausted than I'd ever been in my entire life. As Jonathan put it, it was like I was doing crunches and holding it for 10 seconds 3 times every minute for two hours. The doctor kept telling me that Baby W. was almost there, almost there! But after two hours of hearing that, I stopped believing her. Baby W. was not coming out. He was just going to live with the top of his head sticking out of my lady parts for the rest of his life. This was never going to end. I was deliriously tired at that point, but I distinctly remember looking at Jonathan's face as he stood beside me, watching me push (gasp! he actually looked!), and I knew by the look on his face that he was thinking the same thing: this kid is NOT coming out. In desperation, I demanded that Baby W. GET OUT RIGHT NOW! Yes, I really did say that out-loud to my unborn child. Great start to mothering, huh? And then, just like that, he was there.

It's standard procedure to keep pre-term babies at the hospital for 48 hours. So I sent Jonathan home for some much-needed sleep (and to check on Oskar) while I tried to figure this whole "mommy" thing out.

So it was YOU who made me vomit every day for the first 15 weeks, gave me HORRIBLE heart-burn every night for the last 15 weeks, forced me to get up every hour to go pee, AND caused me to experience the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life? Ahh, well. . . you're worth it. ;)

Proud papa. . .

As you can see, he's pretty much perfect.

After almost 70 hours total in the hospital, I was so ready to GO HOME! The doctors and the nurses were all wonderful, but I missed Oskar and I was so ready to have my family complete again. And honestly, I just hate hospitals. After what seemed like forever, we finally had discharge paperwork, and we were free to go.

All in all, it was the most painful, horrible, and yet amazing experience of my life. However, I am not one of those women who has immediately forgotten the "painful" and "horrible" parts of it and says "Let's do that AGAIN!" as soon as the umbilical cord is cut. I have a beautiful, perfect newborn son; a loving, caring husband; and an adorable, loyal wiener dog. My life is bliss. :)

An Indiana Kind of Baby Shower

My family threw Baby W. a small shower today to celebrate his up-coming arrival. I didn't want anything big with games or birthing stories, so we chose to do a low-key luncheon with family and a few close friends--it was perfect! Due to our transcontinental move and subsequent drive out to Vegas, most people opted for gift cards (which are wonderful), but I had to share a few pics of some of the cutest little gifts I received.

My absolutely DELICIOUS and beautiful cupcake cake. Baby W. THROUGHLY enjoyed a few of these ;)

From my cousin Nikki. How in the world did she guess the nursery was going to be full of airplane stuff? ;)

From my sweet, sweet grandma. . .

From my best friend Angie. Another wiener dog onesie! This kid will definitely be a dachshund lover like his momma. ;)

From my sister. This kid will definitely not forget his midwest roots (or where Grandpa works!)

One guess who this one is from. . .

My nephew wanted to come to the shower even though we told him he would be the only boy there (so sweet!) So I let him help me open a few gifts.

From my mom. Again, this kid will never forget where he's from!

Thank you to everyone who came out and thank you so much for all the wonderful gifts (and gift cards!) I'm so glad I got to celebrate Baby W. with all of you while I was home!

Baby W.'s PIL SUNG Shower

Last Saturday, the wonderful Lady Draggins braved a torrential downpour to gather at Pasta Vino's and celebrate Baby W. It was definitely a "Jenn" kind of baby shower--low-key with no embarrassing games or scary birthing stories. Just dinner with great friends--and PRESENTS! I was absolutely OVERWHELMED by the Draggins' generosity and kindness, and I cannot thank you ladies enough for all of your support.

Baby W.'s cake. . . he definitely enjoyed it. He was kicking like crazy for the rest of the night. Or perhaps he was just telling me that two pieces were WAY too much sugar. . .

Just a couple of the ladies who made the night so wonderful. . .

The combined squadron gift. Absolutely overwhelming! Thank you, ladies!

My wonderful gift from the lovely Chris Oliver. And no, it didn't take long for Jonathan to start playing with the A-10. . .

Lovely gifts from Karin McWhorter. There's even a few things for Mommy in there. . .

And now a few of my favorite gifts. The 'Hog Wild' onesie is a traditional gift from the squadron. The other two were Jonathan's first presents to Baby W. . .

Another one of the gifts from the squadron. I LOVE this outfit! Granted, it will be awhile before Baby W. can wear it, but I think he will look so HANDSOME! Jonathan's thoughts on this outfit: "That kid is going to dress better than I do!"

This is my favorite! My super sweet and crafty neighbor Margie made this for me, and I absolutely LOVE it!

And here's the back of it. ADORABLE!

These were not shower gifts but more gifts to baby from Daddy. We figured we might as well get both the little and big flight suits made now while we're in Korea, the land of "we'll make you anything for cheap."

Are you noticing a theme with Baby W.'s clothes? ;) Yet another reason I'm excited we're having a boy! The only thing left for the flight suits is the name tag, but I guess before we get the tag, we have to decide on a name, right? Any suggestions?

22.5 Weeks!

My goal has been to take monthly "belly shots," so friends and family back in the States get to experience my ever-expanding waistline along with me. But I've been slacking just a little bit. So without further ado, here's the latest up-date. Here's me at 18 weeks:

And here's me a few days ago. I'm at about 22.5 weeks now:

I actually don't see much difference, and Jonathan is starting to get disappointed that I'm not big and fat yet (although I FEEL big and fat.) I have a feeling I'm just going to POP one of these days. But, the good news is that those of you who haven't gotten to see my new haircut can see it now ;)

It's a. . . .

The longest week of my life has finally come to an end. Against all odds, Jonathan came on home on time and with no problems. Once he landed, he called me to let me know and told me to go out onto the balcony with Oskar and the video camera. I'd been telling him after every TDY how excited Oskar had gotten when he realized Daddy was home, and Jonathan wanted to see for himself. The video starts when I see Jonathan pull up in front of the building in a taxi. . .

I had all kinds of visions in my head of how opening the envelope would go. I pictured us having a nice, romantic dinner and then opening the envelope together after dessert and hugging and crying after seeing the newest images of our baby (maybe I've seen one too many chick flicks). Needless to say, it didn't quite go the way I pictured it. Jonathan came in the door, exhausted and sweaty, and after some hugs and kisses and "welcome home's," he headed straight for the shower. And as soon as he got out of the shower, he looked me right in the eye: "Where's the envelope?"

I went into the kitchen, grabbed the envelope off the counter, and handed it to him. "You open it."

We sat down on the love seat and said a little prayer together. After that, I watched nervously as Jonathan opened the envelope and then pulled apart the staples the tech had used as an extra precaution against peeking. As Jonathan unfolded the pictures, I couldn't even look; I looked only at his face. Suddenly he broke into a huge grin and his eyes started to water (don't tell him I told you that). Only then did I look. "It's a BOY!" the picture exclaimed, with a no-doubt-about-it look at our baby's "parts."

Tears started to well up in MY eyes then, and we DID hug and laugh and look at the picture again and hug and laugh some more (so I guess THAT part was kind of like a chick flick.) It was then a mad rush of phone calls and Facebook posts (since we had some friends who seemed more anxious to find out the gender than WE were ;) ).

We, of course, would have been happy with either sex, but we both really wanted a boy. Jonathan wanted a boy because, well, he's a guy, and all guys want a son. On top of that, he wanted a son to make sure the Wright family name would continue. I, on the other hand, wanted a boy for three reasons:

1. To make Jonathan happy

2. To make sure that if we DO have a girl next, she's got a big brother to look out for her

3. To take the pressure off of me of producing a Wright family heir!

After the excitement of the sex had died down, I finally sat down to look at the REST of the ultrasound pictures. Although I had been there for the whole thing (obviously), there is still nothing like seeing a still image of your baby. And THIS picture was absolutely precious. Take a look at the partial shot of Baby W.'s face (nose and lips).

Of course, I'm biased, but I think the little guy is already the most beautiful little boy EVER, and he's not even done cooking yet! I mean, come on--look at those little lips!

18 weeks!

I am 18 weeks along today; time is flying by! I am going to try to take pictures every 4 weeks just to document my growing belly. But, I think to get a true comparison, I have to post not only the most recent picture but also the previous one. So, here's me at 14 weeks or 1 month ago:

And here is me today at 18 weeks:

The belly doesn't seem to be a whole lot bigger, but definitely a lot more rounded. Starting to look a little less like I just had a huge lunch ;)

Knocked Up

Well, we can officially announce that I am knocked up. Yes, the Woogies are expecting their first child in August (tentative due date is August 26). We've known for quite awhile, and it has been SO HARD not to share this exciting news, but we wanted to be absolutely sure that everything was fine before announcing it to the world. In fact, people will say I'm crazy, but I swear I knew that SOMETHING was up the day after conception. I might not have known I was pregnant per se, but I knew SOMETHING was off with my body. So much so that I didn't even drink at the squadron Christmas party (only 3 days after I got knocked up). And, sure enough, two weeks later, I peed on a stick and it looked like this:

Then came the moment of panic. "What is that? What is THAT? What does a plus sign mean? Am I. . . ? Oh my gosh I am." I walked out of the bathroom where Jonathan lay in bed waiting for the result. "I think I'm pregnant."

My sweet husband was ecstatic! He started yelling and pulled me into a great big hug. Me, on the other hand? I was in tears. Who knew a little bit of pee could make your whole future look so scary?

We went to the doctor a few days later, and he confirmed it: I was definitely preggers. As he gave us the news and shook Jonathan's hand, my husband said the one thing that will be on his mind for the next 20 weeks: "Is it a boy?" Sorry sweetie--a little too early to tell.

I got sick almost immediately, and it was really hard to explain to everyone that yes, I was sick but no, I was not dying of the plague. The morning sickness was so intense that on some days, I couldn't even leave the house. But, of course, it didn't bother Oskar. I'd be in the bathroom vomiting, and he would walk in a put his ball at my feet, wagging his tail.

Anyway, we finally hit the end of the first trimester this week, and I had my first doctor's appointment. Everything looked good but, at just shy of 12 weeks, it was too early for the doc to hear the heartbeat. This turned out to be a blessing because we got to have an ultrasound instead. I was worried about not being able to see it (think Rachel on 'Friends') but that kid was right there as soon she put the thing on my belly.

Our first look at Baby Wright. All I could think was: "Holy cow--there's a baby in there!"

Snuggled up. This was AFTER he/she did multiple jumps by literally kicking off of my uterus. Uh-huh. . . THAT'S why I've been feeling so sick!

Waving hi to Mom and Dad :)

It's got arms and legs and hands and feet. These are two happy parents :)

I think we're both over the panic stage and are getting to the excited phase. I mean. . . we're gonna have a BABY. Seriously. . . it doesn't get much cooler than that. :)