Wordless Wednesday

Happy Halloween!!!

Mocha Mamas-Take 3

I'm sure all of you really don't care about what we do every week at play group, but our fearless leader is freezing her butt off up North and this post is to keep her posted on how playgroup went without her.

Sorry Nicole...

We didn't have a activity planned for the kids...we just let them run wild.

We didn't drink any coffee this go round...we stuck with Coke (or pop for you Northerners).

We decided not to interact with the kids...because let's just face it play group is really for us, not them.

Plus, I didn't take any pictures...I was too busy yelling at the kids to go outside and leave us alone.

I'm kidding...okay not about the activity and the Coke, but the rest isn't true.

We did eat some yummy chicken noodle soup. Sheena is officially a awesome chef!
I wanna eat at her house every night.


The boys did destroy the house playing with trains and we only had one fight.


Julian did become reunited with his favorite bouncy seat.

And Amy did take a few shots with my camera.

Gasp! Yes that's me holding my own child. Scary, I know!
See what happens when your not here!

We did have a god time, though we did miss you and Josie.
Our group just wasn't the same without you two.
Plus, I know Amy is missing you lots!

Hooray for Boobies!

If your not aware, October is Breast Cancer awareness month.

Last year, my family was affected by breast cancer when my Uncle's sister was diagnosed and passed away suddenly from it in the Summer of 2008. It came as a shock to everyone who knew her. This past Mother's Day weekend, we walked in her honor at Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. My cousin KP wrote about this experience for her first college English paper. I should have probably asked if I could share this, but she would have probably said no, so I decided to share it anyway. Oh well...hopefully she won't be too mad at me, because it's worth sharing.

I did change the names since I didn't ask for permission.

Hooray For Boobies

It was highly unusual for me to get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning, for my typical weekend routine usually included waking up around one p.m., but I knew that the memories from that day would be glued in my 18-year-old brain perpetually. Despite my never ending mental debate of whether or not to smack “snooze” on my Hello Kitty alarm clock, I instead slapped the dismiss button and unwillingly rolled out of my delightfully cozy bed. The unpleasant stench of burnt food clumsily danced around in my nose. “Mom must be experimenting again,” I thought to myself. I guessed I wouldn’t be having breakfast that morning after all.

“KP, hurry UP!” barked my older sister, like a drill sergeant, from our shared bathroom. She was the only one in the family who knew how to be punctual. I hurriedly brushed back the sleep from my eyes; kicked on my rubber soled Nikes, filled up my Nalgene, and joined my two sisters and cousin in the car.

Even though I was greatly opposed to it, my big sister insisted on blaring her obnoxious country lullabies in the car. It made the ride up to Atlanta seem to drag on for all of eternity. In fact I actually dozed off to sleep, perhaps from sheer boredom, or maybe it was from sitting so uncomfortably in the back seat of my sister’s tiny, blue, four-seater, VW Beetle. Either way, I was one exhausted adolescent that had no clue how greatly awakened my eyes would soon become.

“Hey stupid, wake up! We’re about to squeeze cousin K in here,” my rambunctious fifteen-year-old sister annoyingly yapped into my ear. She wasn’t always the most charming creature to be around at nine o’clock in the morning. As my older sister whipped the car around the corner, there stood my 23-year-old cousin K, dressed from head-to-toe in Pepto-Bismol pink, and standing with a banana and a Yoplait yogurt cup in her hand.

K unfortunately had just recently lost her mom, my Aunt T, to breast cancer only eight months before the journey we were embarking upon that day. Aunt T always spoiled me like a rotten egg. She would have sleepovers with me on Friday nights and cook me her special scrambled eggs on Saturday mornings. She would take me shopping for shoes and take me for rides in her “cool” convertible. She would even come gag back mystery meat with me at lunchtime in elementary school. Sadly enough though, all things must come to an end.

T was only 51 years old when everything in her life started to drastically take a turn for the worse. Her back had been oddly bothering her for quite some time, though she just shook it off as if it was nothing. Finally, after suffering through two months of pain, she decided it was time to head to the doctor. The news that she received after the appointment that day astounded everyone. According to the doctor, T had stage four inflammatory breast cancer. Without T being aware of it, the cancer had already taken hostage her bones and her brain, and was slowly slithering up to capture her spine too. She was immediately admitted to the hospital and lost her battle with cancer not even a full month later.

As I gloomily reminisced over the events that had taken place eight months earlier, I sluggishly pulled myself out of the car. I could hear a lady shouting over a microphone, “We are 15,000 strong!” You could tell from her nasally tone that she was from Boston.

Supporters were literally everywhere, lining the streets like a parade. Perhaps that parade would include appearances by Santa Claus, and even God himself. That might even be an understatement of how unbelievably crowded the sidewalks and streets were.

I could feel my naturally curly, chestnut brown hair frizzing up as the shotgun cracked to begin the race. The ferocious clouds looming overhead added to my cheerless mood. Passing by towering buildings and walking up winding roads, everyone around me was anxiously chattering about their stories. Every person had one. That I knew for sure.

Each participant that I passed by wore pink signs pinned to the back of his or her cotton t-shirt. “I walk in memory of,” or “I am a survivor.” Survivor? After seeing what my Aunt T had just uneasily suffered through, I knew for a fact that it had to be a rough time to go through. I had trouble dealing with regular obstacles in everyday life. I could only imagine dealing with all of that, and knowing that I had breast cancer. I could not fathom how all those affected by breast cancer in any way, shape, or form could be so joyful at such a sad event as this. Then it hit me. They didn’t take life for granted like I did. After all, I was an unappreciative teenager, according to my mother. They were just simply happy to be alive, happy to be celebrating and uniting together to fight the ugly demon of breast cancer. Life is way too short to not appreciate it. Why couldn’t I obtain the same optimistic outlook on life? The thoughts of everything whirled around in my brain like a sandstorm. It put me in a bit of a better mood; even though the puffy gray cotton balls in the sky were beginning to lightly sprinkle over the crowd.

Finally, the finish line was in sight. A rather rotund guy was standing on the side of the road flailing his arms around like an octopus, and holding a “Hooray for Boobies” sign. I could feel a slight grin spreading across my face as I snickered at the silliness of the situation, and the immaturity of myself.

As each survivor crossed the finish line, they each received a bouquet of a dozen pink roses and their “Susan G. Komen” Survivor t-shirt. The survivors all looked so happy, but yet half of them had tears pooled up in their eyes. They each had defeated such a huge battle in their lives.

$1.7 million dollars was raised for breast cancer that day, and millions of life-touching memories were made. Though it felt like a tough walk to go through mentally, I knew my Aunt T was there with me every step of the way. I just wish she could have been there to enjoy it just as much as I did.

I'm happy to report she got a 100 on the paper.

I'm cracking...

It's been almost four weeks and I'll be honest....

I'm tired,

I wasn't prepared for this,

and I'm cracking.

This has been harder than I thought it would be. To those who are expecting their first, when I said only after the first few days that it was easier than I thought it would be, that was only because all she did was sleep the first 72 hours. Now it seems all she does is cry and I don't know how to make her happy.

Tonight I had a break down and no, it wasn't the first time. I had to leave because I couldn't take it anymore. I left her with David and went and walked around wal-mart because I was so tired of it all (Yes, I'm serious when I say that wal-mart is the only thing to do in our small town). I've wanted to be a stay-at-home mom for as long as I can remember. Now, that I'm finally doing it, I'm not to sure about it. Yes, I love her but, it's exhausting to be around her 24/7. Now I know why Nicole treasures her Mondays without the kids.

When David walked in from work today, she was in tears and I was in tears. But, I always feel bad that he has been at work all day and as soon as he walks in, I'm handing her off for him to take care of. Don't get me wrong, I've worked with children long enough to know that I love children, but I'm hating this newborn stage. I will be so glad when it's over, but of course, there's a part of me that feels guilty for saying that.

Crap...now Miley's "the Climb" is playing on the radio and I'm in tears again.

It's not helping the situation that I'm still trying to "recover" from two surgeries. I'm tired of being scared to do anything because I'm afraid I'll reopen my incision. I'm tired of constantly worrying if I'm healing on the inside and not having any way of knowing. I feel like I'm constantly walking on egg shells and I just want to be back to my normal self. I hear it a hundred times a day and I'm trying to rest and take it easy, but when she's asleep, it's the only time I have to get anything done. Doing those things are the only thing right now that give me some sort of feeling of normalcy.

Plus, the mermaid girl past away on Friday and my mom called this morning to break the news to me. That has also made me sad today. That little girl's outlook on life and her situation was a true inspiration. My heart breaks for her parents.

Sorry, I know this post is all over the place, but thanks for letting me get it off my chest.

Crocs...again

Here is the info on the cute crocs...

I bought mine from a local store here in our little town, but I found them on the crocs website. They are the Malindi's and on the website they are $29.99. Not trying to brag, but I got mine for $26.99. So, you may be able to find them for cheaper somewhere else. Click on the image for the info.


I am liking these too for the fall!

Baby Snuggies

After my post last Friday, I didn't want y'all to think my mom is some heartless lady who just lets babies cry. We were very fortunate that she was the one to come down and take care of Olivia and I last week while I recovered from the second surgery. Since I didn't go into detail much on Friday, she knew more of the situation with Olivia and knew what I was talking about.

No, I don't lay her in her crib and allow her to cry all night. I have read the books and I understand that babies at that have no way to soothe themselves but, when I stated that she didn't want to sleep unless someone was holding her, I wasn't exaggerating. The problem that we were having was that she always ended up in our bed. I know everyone has their own way of raising children, but we're not big fans of the co-ed sleeping thing. I feel like (especially in our bed) it's dangerous. Last Thursday night I fell asleep in the bed with her in my arms. When I woke up it freaked me out because if I went a little to the left, she would have been on the floor. Plus, it wouldn't be a question of if David rolled on top of her, it would be a question of when?

The problem we were having was that, besides holding her, nothing else was soothing her. I think we've finally found a solution. We've had a few good nights in a row of her sleeping in her crib and I'm hoping that success continues. She hates to be swaddled. She likes to be able to move her arms and legs. Anytime we swaddled her, she kicked herself out. I bought a blanket onesie from Target and so far, she loves it. I guess it confines her enough to make her feel safe, but allows her to still move around. We've named it the baby snuggie.


Oh and I don't see how people live without these things...

It saves me from some unneeded stress on some days.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

She definitely takes after her daddy!

I've crossed to the other side

Yesterday, I did something I always swore I would never do.

And I have to admit....I'm in love.

I'm sure I'll never hear the end of it from certain members of my family.

I broke down and bought a pair of crocs.

Yes, those shoes that I have for years severely made fun of.

I believe they are only cute on people under the age of 12.

But, I now own a pair.

I have been eying them since August, but I decided to wait till after Olivia to arrive to see what size I needed. Pregnancy has made my feet grow pretty much a whole size.

These things are so comfy and except for bed, have not left my feet in the last 24 hours.

Now I need a brown pair.

Oh, and now all the girls at play group want a pair too!

Part Two: The worst part of the week & how granny panties saved the day

Part two gets gross and graphic, so you might want to turn back now.

I have scared others into not having children.

You've been warned...

We were starting to get into a routine and getting used to having a baby around the house. David's mom took the week off and was helping me around the house and with taking care of Olivia. Wednesday morning David was off and I had a scheduled doctor's appointment to have my staples removed. Because of swine flu, no one under the age of 12 is allowed in the OBGYNs office, so we had already planned on taking Olivia to her Nana's before the doctors appointment. That morning Nana called and said David's brother was sick so she was going to come to our house to watch Olivia. That ended up being one of those coincidences I spoke of earlier.

My appointment went fine. I was really nervous about having the staples removed. I had heard stories from others that it was awful, but those people I decided were just drama queens. It didn't hurt at all. Anyways...the doctor checked me out and from the outside, everything looked good. She sent me on my way and told me to come back for my six week post-partum checkup.

On the way home I asked David to stop by wal-mart since there were a couple of things I wanted to pick up for Olivia. While at wal-mart, I decided to pick up a pack of what most women refer to as "granny panties." I had been wearing bikini style underwear the week before and they were hitting right at my incision. Even though I had the staples removed, I thought wearing the high waisted underwear would help it finish healing. We walked around wal-mart, got the few items we needed, and then headed home. We got back to the house and talked David's mom into letting us take her out to lunch. After sitting around for a minute, we decided on Mexican and started getting ready to head out. Though I normally always wash new underwear before I wear it, I decided to go put on the "granny panties" because the others were rubbing against my incision. So, I went and changed my underwear and at that point everything was still fine. Another one of those coincidences I was talking about.

****Warning****
***This is were the story gets gross. If you can't take gross stuff, skip this next paragraph.***

When I came back, Olivia and I were sitting on the love seat. I got up and went to get a diaper and wipe to change her before we left. When I came back to change her, I noticed my shorts were a little wet. I then said to myself "duh, I have a wipe in my hand" (why that made sense at the time I don't know). I changed her and for the first time since I had got home from the doctors, picked her up to put her in her car seat. We were getting ready to walk out the door and I told David and his mom to wait a second because something didn't feel right. My shorts were soaked by that time and I thought my incision was bleeding. I went back to our room and pulled open my shorts and underwear. My incision had opened and my insides were coming out. Most of it was fatty tissue and a bit of my small intestines. The only thing holding my insides in were the granny panties. I freaked out.

I should stop and explain for those who don't know (I didn't know), when you have a c-section, you have two incisions, on on the inside and one on the skin. So what happened was that my inside incision hadn't healed and my outside incision opened up and my insides came out.

I started screaming "oh my God, oh my God, I think we need to go to the hospital." Of course, they thought I was overreacting and David's mom (who I've mentioned is a nurse) told me to open my shorts and when she saw it she started freaking out. She works in the GI department of the hospital and looks at intestines all day, so she knew what she was seeing when she saw it. In a quick few minutes, we decided that David would drive me to the hospital I delivered at since my doctors are there. We hopped in the car and David's mom stayed with Olivia at the house. She called my doctor and explained what happened. They told her they would have a doctor there to meet me in the ER. That was the longest drive of our life it seemed like but, I was surprisingly calm most of the time. The only time I freaked out was when I called my mom. I called my mom and just started screaming "pray for me, pray for me." David had to take the phone away and explain what was going on.

We made it to the hospital and needless to say, I got rolled right back to the back. Having your insides hanging out gets you to the head of the line. My doctors came in and obviously, the only option was surgery. They rushed to get a OR ready and after being there for about 45 minutes, I was back in surgery. They opened me back up, did a good clean out my insides, checked to make sure there were no signs of infection, and sewed me back up. This time they decided to do extra sutures. They did say that the knots from the first sutures were still there and intact. That makes me believe that the "pop" I heard when I got sick after the c-section was when the sutures came undone. Yes, I was that violently sick at that time.

I stayed in the hospital for the next 48 hours. They put me on a extremely high dosage of antibiotics. They called it the triple gun. I was on those for 48 hours and back on pain medicine. It was the first time my doctor had seen this happen and her partner (who did my 2nd surgery) had only seen it once in his career. They said it ended up being blessing in disguise. Normally, they take staples out after 3 days. I had mine in for 7 and the outside incision still hadn't healed all the way. If the outside incision had healed completely, then my insides would have stayed open and it would have slowly poisoned me, making me sicker and sicker over time. If that were to happen, it would have taken longer for them to figure out what was making me sick. The doctors without saying it seemed to agree that they think when I got sick was when the sutures came undone. But unless they took me back into surgery and opened me back up, they wouldn't have known.

They treated my second surgery like a hysterectomy for recovery purposes. I was sent back up to the mother/baby wing of the hospital and we quickly requested the nurses we wanted for my stay (and reported the bad ones). I got much better care the second go round. They even gave us permission to bring Olivia up there for visits, even though children under 12 are not allowed up there due to swine flu. They also said that she could stay the night, but I told David I thought it best for her to stay at home.

The biggest worry is for infection. Like I said, they checked me, cleaned me out, and kept me on the antibiotics for 48 hours. So hopefully, I'm in the clear now. They didn't send me home on antibiotics because if you stay on that strong of antibiotics long enough, it does some major damage to your body. It was another blessing that I had decided to not breastfeed. Since I was on such a strong dosage of antibiotics, I would have to have waited weeks before it was out of my system and I could continue to feed her.

Several people have made the comment that my doctors are to blame, etc., etc. I honestly don't feel that way. It was a freak accident and I'm thankful that things turned out the way they did. I seriously have some of the best OBGYN's in our area. I do have a inside source that let's me know who to see for what in our area and she asks around to other people who have a know also. It helps to have someone who works in the medical field.

So, that's my birthing story. Needless to say, it's been a little traumatizing. I have informed the hubby that this might be the only child we have. Luckily, he only wanted one or two kids to begin with. I told Nicole the other day that the foster to adopt program is looking pretty good right now.

Excuses...

I promise I am working on part two: the worst part of the week. I'm not trying to leave y'all hanging. Promise.

Having a baby takes up a lot of time. I now know why people drop off the blogging world for a few weeks after they have a baby.

I will finish it up this weekend and post it on Monday. Promise.

We're trying to get into a routine around here. It's hard when you have visitors at your house 24/7. We have had someone at our house everyday for the last three weeks. We have yet to spend a full 24 hours just the three of us. We're grateful for every one's help, but it starts to wear on you after awhile. It has also lead to problem with Olivia...

she's SPOILED!!!!

She has basically been held since she's been born and now she thinks she cannot sleep unless she's in some one's arms.

Mom, I keep trying to put her down and just let her cry, but it's hard. Plus it doesn't help that her daddy cannot stand to listen to her cry and runs to pick her up every time. Last night I thought he was going to start crying because I wouldn't let him go pick her up. She is so wrapped around his finger already.

So, I hope everyone in the blog world is doing well. I haven't even been keeping up with my Google Reader. I'm scared to open it.

Have a great weekend!!!

Part One: The best part of the week...Olivia's Birth

It's hard to believe that Olivia's birth was only a little over a week ago. After this past week, it seems like weeks ago. The last post I posted before the birth was my story on how we went to the doctor and found out that I was carrying a huge baby. That is when the doctor decided I needed a c-section. Click here for a recap if you missed that post.

(me the day before I went in labor)

Tuesday afternoon we left the doctor's office with a new plan of action and trying to prepare ourselves for a c-section that following Thursday. That night we went to bed and I woke up a little after midnight having contractions. All night long I was up with contractions. The contractions were coming every 20-30 minutes, but they were lasting anywhere from 2-4 minutes. Needless to say, it was a long night. The worst part was that I was having back labor and that ladies is no fun. I spent the majority of the morning laying on the couch with hot and cold packs on my back. Around lunch time I was feeling a little better and convinced David and my mom to take me out to lunch. We went to lunch and the contractions got so bad, I couldn't even sit through lunch. After a little while, my mom and David finally convinced me to call the doctor's office. Well, I called and the lady who answers the phone kept telling me that my contractions weren't close enough. So, I hung up and went a little while longer before I called again. On my second call, the lady told us that I could go to the hospital to be checked, but it was probably best if I wait it out till my water breaks or my contractions get closer. So, I waited it out a little bit longer.

(this is what labor looks like)

Finally I had gotten to the point I knew I wasn't going to make it through the night. I made my third and final call. The same lady answered the phone and I told her I was done talking to her and done trying to make her realize the fact that my doctor didn't want me to go into labor. I told her I refused to talk to her any longer and to have my doctor call me back. Less than five minutes later, my doctor called me back and before I could say anything, she told me to get to the hospital, she was going to do the c-section that night. Lesson to be learned is don't listen to the people who answer the phones at the doctors office, if you are having problems, ask to speak to your doctor. Come to find out, even after I called twice, the lady never once went to my doctor and told her what was going on. As soon as my doctor saw I had called three times, she knew what needed to be done.

We arrived at the hospital around 6:30pm and I went to admissions to check-in. We had no clue to when I would be going back or what was to happen. After admissions, we waited in the lobby for about twenty minutes when a nurse came out and called my name. She looked at me and said let's go. I of course started freaking out a bit because I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast. At that point the only people who were at the hospital were my parents and David. David and I went back and they took me straight to the OR recovery room to get me ready. My nurse was taking her time getting me ready because she was under the impression that it would be at least an hour before they were ready. Less than ten minutes later the anesthesiologist and my doctor poked their heads in and said we're ready. Less than 15 minutes after that Olivia Kate came into the world at 7:44pm. Of course she came out kicking a screaming. Evidently she was pretty happy in there and had no plans on coming out anytime soon.

(not ten pounds, but close)

The c-section went by pretty fast. As for the c-section part, if you end up having to have one, it isn't as bad as some people make it out to be. I was though extremely nervous and I kept my eyes closed the whole time except when they brought her over to me to see. David and the anesthesiologist kept asking if I was okay since I was being so quiet. It was best that it went so fast because I didn't have any time to really think about it. If I would have had to wait till Thursday morning, I would have thought about it all too much.

(already in love)

After the c-section, they took Olivia and David up to the nursery to be cleaned up and checked out. I went to recovery. I ended up spending an hour and a half in recovery because the anesthesia made me sick. If I would have known before hand that it made me sick, then they could have given me something but unfortunately I didn't. I will know for sure for the next time. David came down to sit with me in recovery while the rest of our family stayed up at the nursery oohing and aahhing over our new baby girl. At the advice of a good friend, we requested that when they took me up to my room, to not allow anyone in our room for thirty minutes so that we could spend some alone time just the three of us. The first time I got to hold her was a moment that I will never forget but, I'm sure no mother does.

(a very tired mommy)

Even though it was past visiting hours, they let our family stay to visit with Olivia. Finally around 11pm everyone started to head home. The next part of the story I only tell you because it plays an important part in the worst part of the week. David's parents were the last to head out after Olivia's birth. David's mom bent down to give me a hug goodbye and I said to her "I'm going to be sick." At that point I got nasty sick all over her, my bed, and myself. Luckily, David had Olivia so I didn't get her. Also, David's mom is a nurse and is used to people throwing up all over her. When I got sick, I heard and felt a POP down there. I told Vicki then that I heard something pop down there. Unfortunately, I had a bad nurse that night and she didn't seem to care. She didn't even volunteer to clean me up. Thankfully, my mother-in-law is a nurse and took care of me. Yes, we reported the nurse.


The next morning the day nurse took off my bandages and everything seemed to be in place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. We spent the next 24 hours in the hospital and Friday morning they gave me the option of staying the night or going home. We opted to go home since you don't get much rest when in the hospital.

Our first weekend home went well. David's mom took off the week to help me with Olivia and it worked out well since I ended up having a c-section. Just when we started getting used to having a baby at home, my troubles began.

Part Two: The worst part of the week....coming next!!!

The best & worst week ever...

I would like to tell you all my lack of posting is due to the fact I've been taking care of a beautiful baby girl. Unfortunately, that has not been the case.

Remember earlier when I posted that this was easier than I expected to be, well, God put me in my place. To give you the quick version of the story, I had some complications with the incision from the c-section and Wednesday morning I had to be rushed into emergency surgery and had to spend a couple more days in the hospital. I got home from the hospital yesterday afternoon. So I ended up having two major surgery's within one week. They are treating my second surgery to that of a hysterectomy patient. Though, that is not what I had, that is just the guidelines to how they are treating my recovery. So now, I have a longer recovery than originally planned.

One thing I have definitely learned this past week is that without a doubt, God is in control. My accident was a freak accident and pretty traumatizing, but ended up being a blessing in disguise. There were way too many factors in the events leading up to it all that were more than just a coincidence. Regardless of whatever doubts I've had about my faith these past few years, they have all been restored. God has shown me that he is in charge of my life.

Since I have a little more time on my hands now, I will post the details of the birth and my freak accident within the next few days. I will post it in two different post so it's not so long. The hardest thing now I'm dealing with is not being able to care for Olivia. There is only so much that I can do. My mom and David's mom have been here around the clock taking care of her. I am so thankful for the two of them and all they've done for us.

As for Olivia, she is still a great baby, which is helping with this whole situation. Even though I was in the hospital, we kept her schedule and she went for checkup on Thursday. She is doing great. She is now weighing in a 9lbs 5oz. The doctor was impressed since she had gained weight and most babies lose weight after leaving the hospital. The crazy thing was that she is measuring at 22inches long. Either she grew an inch and a half in a week or they measured her wrong at birth. We have finally decided she looks just like me in the face, but she has her daddy's body, long and lean. I am madly in love with her. The hardest part of this whole ordeal was having to be away from her those days, but I know she was in good hands.

Update on Olivia Kate

Hi! Things are finally starting to settle down a bit around here. I figured I would stop in and let you guys know how we're doing.

Obviously, Miss Olivia finally decided to make her debut. While we all had decided that she would be an October baby, she decided to prove us wrong and show up in September. Save the best for last, right?

Here is a quick run down on the facts...She was born by c-section on Wednesday September 30 at 7:44pm. She weighed 9lbs. 2oz., was 20.5 inches long, and came out fighting. She is long and lean and built just like her daddy. The pediatrician gave us the report that she was a perfect, healthy baby girl. Since I was doing so well, Friday morning we were giving the option to go home or stay one more night. Even though staying at the hospital is so fun, we decided to go home and have had her home since a little before lunch time on Friday.

I am doing quite well after the c-section. I was given the advice by a good friend that the best thing to do after a c-section is to get up and move. I can tell you that I have took that advice to heart and the next morning, I was up walking around. I can tell you it has made the world of difference. I honestly feel 100 times better than I expected I ever would (of course with the help of some pain medications). My doctor told me Friday, I was doing better than most of her vaginal patients. Don't worry, I am getting my rest, but I feel better when I am up and moving.

Olivia is (so far) a great baby. She only cry's when she is wet or hungry. I usually only have to get up with her twice throughout the night. Knock on wood...I honestly thought it would be harder than it has been. She is making it very easy for us. Of course, she is already spoiled rotten. We're still trying to decide who she looks like and laughing at the little quirks that she gets from either David or I. Of course to us, she is absolutely perfect and we're madly in love with her. I can say that I now get it and people are right, you truly don't understand until you have one of your own. Oh, and of course like expected, she already has her daddy wrapped around her finger.

I'll post within the next few days the "birth story" and what all lead to her arrival that night. Thanks for all the well wishes! I am collecting pictures from the hospital stay from others. Here are a few that we've taken since being home.

A Little More Olivia!

Hey y'all! It's Nicole again!

Just wanted to give another quick update.

Mama and Baby are doing great. Amber is starting to feel better and was even up walking around when we went up to visit.

Olivia Kate is so so stunningly gorgeous!

She has a perfect little button nose and a head full of dark hair, just perfect for big ole bows!

Amber should be heading home tomorrow and I know she will be giving all the details.

Here are a couple more pictures to tide you over until Amber gets back:

Introducing Miss Olivia Kate

All 9 Pounds and 2 Oz of her!
And from what I can see in these pictures, she is absolutely gorgeous!

I stole these pictures off Amber's cousins Facebook.
I'm hoping to get up there and get some shots of the Little Waffle myself later tonight!

Look at that happy Daddy!
I have not heard from David or Amber today so I'm not sure how Amber is feeling. She is so strong, I'm sure she's doing wonderfully.

Here's Olivia Kate taking her first walk with her Daddy!