a baby story

I'm emerging from the dark days of Ralph's newborn phase and I'm finally ready to write down Ralph's birth story. Man! The first two months hit me like a ton of bricks this time around. With Rhoda, my hardest months were months 2-4, and with Ralph it was months 0-2. When you have an older kid at home to pay attention to (and for your help to pay attention to), you just don't get as much rest as you do when people come to help and can just hold the baby while you sleep. That, or I just don't remember how hard it actually was with Rhoda. And, of course, both scenarios could be true.

Something else different this time around was that Robbie wrote up my birth story last time when Rhoda was about a week old. The thought of either of us having enough time to do that this time around cracks me up.

So! Let's start from the beginning. Actually, let's start with me saying that I really wanted to let things progress as naturally as possible with this birth like I did with Rhoda's, except without it lasting 20 hours in the hospital. Thankfully I had an amazing and experienced doula, a small community-ish hospital (it used to be a community hospital and still feels that way so it still counts), and a nice OB who let me do my thing even if he secretly thought I was crazy. I should also mention that my OB has baby-related comics on the ceiling above the exam table in his office and wears a lapel pin of a cartoon uterus on his white coat. Let me know if you want his number.

The beginning.
At my 40 week appointment (a Monday), my OB started stressing me out by telling me that I needed to schedule an induction. He was pushing for 41 weeks but I pushed back and told him that Rhoda was born at 41 weeks and I just think that my babies need a little more time to be ready to come out. So I scheduled an induction for May 23rd, which felt like a million years away at the time and I just knew that I wasn't going to go to 42 weeks. I also didn't feel like I was going to have the baby on my due date (Narrator: "She did.") and I was just going to enjoy my last week of insomnia and being large and in charge. Then my OB offered to sweep my membranes to get things going, which I was hesitant about and probably should have listened to my gut on that one? Long story short for those who aren't as familiar with birth, sweeping your membranes is just one way to maybe or maybe not kickstart labor, and the membranes in question are the membranes of your amniotic sac and I didn't want my water to break since I was Group B Strep positive (again) and that would mean that I'd be closely monitored to avoid infection if my water broke.

But, I didn't listen to my gut, and I let my doctor sweep my membranes, and the rest of the day was just kind of uncomfortable and I was regretting doing it and stressing about it. Since I was under the care of midwives in a hospital with Rhoda, I really didn't deal with them stressing about going overdue and so I wrote my doula a long-winded email about how I was stressed and didn't know how to deal with it and she was like "I'm sorry this is new and confusing for you, call me in the morning and we can talk about it."

And then. In the morning I had that familiar pregnant feeling of "did I pee my pants or did my water break?" Except I had no idea because my water didn't break at the beginning of labor with Rhoda. I spent the entire day asking myself and calling my doula and possibly walking through Target with a giant wet spot on the back of my pants because I really needed some last minute things at Target if my water really HAD broken. I also didn't want to call my doctor because if my water HAD broken they'd make me come in right away, but I hadn't gone into labor yet. So I kinda played dumb when I FINALLY called the hospital at 6 pm that night after my doula told me that I shouldn't wait until morning and was like "I need you to check and see if my water broke or I'm just incontinent." Fortunately my OB was the doctor on call and he gave me the reassuring over-the-phone assessment of "based on what you're describing, it doesn't sound like your water broke!" (Narrator: "It had.")

The hospital.
So, my amazing doula Eva came over and drove me to the hospital, which is a five minute drive up the street, and Robbie stayed home to put Rhoda to bed. Once the nurses confirmed that my water had broken, they told me I had to stay (boo) and see if labor would get started on its own. (Narrator: "It didn't.") They gave me the option of starting Pitocin (which would kickstart contractions) or Cytotec (which would thin out my cervix) that night or waiting till the morning, and I opted to go with Cytotec, in the hopes that would kickstart contractions naturally, and to wait till the morning so I could get some sleep. Neither of those scenarios was ideal, since both Cytotec and Pitocin have potential side effects that can complicate delivery, and I was pretty anxious about it. After consulting with Eva and Robbie I decided that considering the circumstances that we'd made the right decision and I came to terms with it. Eva left once Robbie showed up around 10 pm, and also at this point I'd like to give a shoutout to my dear friend Christa who came over and spent the night and then took Rhoda to her house the next day. Figuring out babysitting for your kid is the worst part about planning your second birth.

Another note, the two things I told my doula that I wanted to avoid this time around were laboring in the hospital for a long time and being hooked up to fetal monitors for the whole time. Ha! I got that and then some this time around. In fact, I was in the hospital for longer than I was with Rhoda (24 hours from admitting to birth), but at least I wasn't in labor for that entire time.

I actually started thinking about writing up this story yesterday when my "calming" labor playlist came up on Spotify and I was transported to the hospital bed where I was hooked up to beeping fetal monitors and trying to fall asleep. Listen to Philip Glass' Einstein on the Beach and tell me that won't put you right to sleep. (Narrator: "It didn't.") All it got me was "I LOVE YOU MORE THAN TONGUE CAN TELL. YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE! MY SUN, MOON, AND STARS. YOU ARE MY EVERYTHING. WITHOUT YOU, I HAVE NO REASON FOR BEING" stuck in my head (go to the 3:30 mark of the song).

So after neither of us slept all that well (and after a nurse came in at 1 am and said "Good morning! Are you ready for your Cytotec?") I got started on penicillin (for the Group B Strep) and Cytotec at 6 am. Robbie and I got familiar with the tiny maternity floor since we weren't allowed to walk anywhere else. Fortunately there is one window on the floor where you can look out on the valley and it's really pretty...? Yeah, we were both pretty bored. I honestly don't know what we did from 6 am to 12 pm, when Eva came. I re-watched some Doctor Who (the episode was "The Impossible Astronaut," which maybe like two people in my readership could appreciate, nothing like The Silence to get you into labor), ate some gross hospital food, chatted with one of my nurses who was really nice and hung out with me for an hour, and totally pretended like I wasn't in the hospital when people texted me.

The labor.

Side note, Robbie took this picture somewhere in the middle of labor and I'm so glad he did. This is what having a baby feels like. What I'm not glad about is the video he took of me saying "DOOOOOWN... OOOUUUUUT..." in a low, guttural voice (and doing so caused me to lose my voice a bit the next day). My laboring self sounds like The Hulk. I will never be able to listen to me sounding like that if I'm not in labor. 

As I mentioned, Eva came to relieve us from our boredom around noon. I'll say it again, Eva Roodman is my favorite person ever. I know she was getting paid to do what I asked her to but I wonder if doulas secretly hate being called by their clients to come and hang out with them when the hospital gets boring. In reality I was starting to show signs of active labor and feeling a little more uncomfortable, so it was probably a good time for her to come anyway. Around 1 pm I started having to concentrate on my contractions and the next seven hours until delivery are kind of a blur. Actually, that's not true. Even though I was in the zone during my contractions, I was completely aware of what was going on the rest of the time, which was a totally different experience from Rhoda's birth! I was just so exhausted with her birth that my time between contractions was spent taking tiny naps.

This time, Robbie and my doula were totally in sync with how to help me cope with contractions. It was amazing! Both of my babies have been posterior (facing up), so back labor was an issue again. Robbie and Eva got a major workout squeezing my hips and passing me tiny snacks. I asked them not to tell me how far dilated I was so that I wouldn't get discouraged, and that was a great choice. I could tell that I was stalling at 4 cm (AGAIN), but I learned from my first labor that I needed to get up and change whatever I was doing instead of laying prostrate on the hospital bed and hoping it would pass eventually. I sat on the labor ball, I labored on my hands and knees on a yoga mat that Eva brought (genius!), I sat backwards on the toilet (I HATE LABORING ON THE TOILET), I stood in the shower (THE BLESSED SHOWER, I loved the shower), and laid in a terribly uncomfortable position called a "Texas roll" to try and get the baby to flip face down. (Narrator: "It didn't.")

The last couple of hours of labor are a little foggy for me but I do vividly remember pretending like I was Rocky Balboa and Eva was Mick while she would put my water bottle straw in the side of my mouth and make me take sips in between contractions. I also remember telling Eva that I really did NOT want to lay down anymore and that I NEEDED to get in the shower. This proved to be an excellent mind-body connection moment for me, as I ended up standing in the shower for like an hour and a half and I progressed from a 4 to an 8 or 9. Woof! That was definitely the craziest part for me, but I FELT the baby flip from face up to face down while I was in the shower. Contractions got infinitely more manageable after that. Also, I had a bruise on my forehead from banging my head on the shower wall during contractions. I do not remember thinking this would be a terrible idea while I was actually doing it.

Once I was that far dilated, they wouldn't let me stand in the shower any more, so they said they'd call my OB and get me set up on the bed. At this point I was refusing to lay back down because I didn't want the baby to turn again. So I basically ignored the nurse and just stayed on my hands and knees. Also, she was telling me not to push and I almost punched her in the face. I think Dr. Hoff showed up around 7:30, and waiting for him to show up felt like an eternity. He also informed us while he was stitching me up that he had been at home finishing up La La Land.

After four contractions, I had a baby! And again I was nosy and looked to see if it was a boy or girl before Robbie had a chance to announce it!

Giant newborn hands = the best

 This is me, the only one awake at 11 pm, since Robbie told me that he was "so exhausted" after my labor and passed out once all the people left our room

Ralph David Hamill was born at 7:59 pm on his due date, May 10th, weighing 8 lbs 8 oz (!!!) and measuring 20.5 inches long. From the beginning he's proven to be a very particular sleeper and a ravenous nurser. I am not one to fall in love with my babies the second they come out, but at almost three months postpartum I'm pretty smitten with little Ralphie's chubby cheeks and generous smiles.

Birth is the coolest and weirdest thing. It was a lot easier than my first baby in many ways, and harder in others. So, SO many things were different this time. Even though the induction method was more subtle than, say, Pitocin, it definitely brought on heavy contractions seemingly out of nowhere, where Rhoda's birth was much more drawn out. From start to finish (minus my water breaking, I don't count that since I wasn't having contractions that I could really feel) this time took 7 hours, and Rhoda's birth was 30 hours. 30 hours! I don't know how I did it. Even though it was much shorter, I remember feeling like I could do it again after Rhoda was born, but after Ralph was born I was like "eh, I could be done now." Hahaha.

But really, I think I could do it again. At this rate, maybe my next blog post will be my next birth story so I guess we'll find out eventually!

dear internet, i had a baby in may

some babies

The other day we had a little meetup with some of the couples that were in our childbirth prep class, and these are their babies! Well, four of the eight babies from the class, anyway. Due to conflicting schedules we weren't able to get everyone together at the same time this weekend but these pictures were too cute not to post. We took an eight week course from Susan Messina and it was hands down the best money we spent during my pregnancy. She is a great teacher and pretty moderate when it comes to birth issues—the "textbook" for the class was a book called Natural Hospital Birth which is written by a woman (who is also an anthropologist who studied birth methods in Russia and a doula) who had a c-section and then two vaginal births, so I felt like she had a pretty well-rounded approach to the (very heated) topic of natural birth. Anyway, it was a good fit for us since we were looking to have our baby in a hospital, but with as few interventions as possible, and it's difficult to find a class that isn't far on the extremes of the childbirth philosophy spectrum.

I could probably talk for hours about childbirth—I'm so interested in everything about it. I love hearing people's birth stories, I love tiny new babies, I just can't get enough of the topic. Susan's class was super empowering (in the end, I got what I wanted out of my birth experience, which I don't know that I would have gotten without some of the things we learned in Susan's class), and making friends with the couples was also so meaningful for us. I still see a couple of the girls from our class once a week when we get together with a few other friends with babies the same age and troubleshoot together. It was really a sound investment of time and money of which I am still reaping the benefits.

If you live in DC and are having a baby, I would recommend her class without hesitation!

oh rhodie

I understand now why lots of people stop blogging once they have babies. (Though I guess I was tapering off for a long time there already...) And I have lots more respect now for people who blog for a living and have babies. I don't know how they manage to post anything on the internet that you can't do from a phone. Speaking of which, if you are interested in seeing more Rhoda and hearing less Hannah, you can just check out the pictures I post on Instagram, which is just a lot easier to keep up with these days.

Four weeks have come and gone, and so have our month's worth of visitors. Robbie is back at work today and Rhodie and I are all on our own for the first time. It's been okay so far but during one of her naps this morning I heard a mouse trap go off in our laundry room and I wanted to scream (it's the fourth mouse we've caught this week). I also really want to take a nap but I can't seem to fall asleep, thanks to the man operating the jackhammer right outside our window (SERIOUSLY??). But it's okay. We're having a good time here together and settling into a normal routine. I think it will be even better once Rhoda has the coordination/ability to put her binky back in her mouth when it falls out. That's probably the most important milestone of babyhood, right?

I also went back to church yesterday for the first time in a month. Physically I was ready but if it weren't for the promise of Christmas music every week I'd probably wait a little longer to go back, as long as we're being honest here. The problem with going back to church after a baby break, as my mom warned me, is that people assume that you're ready to serve in the same capacity and with as much energy as you had before baby. Turns out moms have a really good sense about these things because she's right—both about not having the same energy and about people suddenly wanting to ask you to do stuff. I'm just going to have to get real comfortable saying "no" or—easier yet—ignoring my email inbox. Don't judge.

But overall, motherhood has been a very pleasant experience so far. Rhoda is a great baby. She likes taking baths, she is a good nurser, she seems to sleep well, and everyone comments on how pleasant she is. We took her to the movies which is as great as everyone says it is (the experience of taking a newborn baby, that is) and it probably helped that the theater we went to had leather recliners and reserved seating. She is starting to smile back which is really gratifying. She has gotten way taller than chubbier each week, so it's getting to the point where I wonder if I'm soon going to have to wrap her around my body while I feed her. And on top of all these great things, it's Christmastime and everything is just infinitely better with a Christmas tree in your house. I guarantee it.

thank heaven for little girls

● ● ●

Rhoda Primrose Hamill

born Sunday, November 3rd at 1:58 pm

7 lbs 13 oz, 20 inches long

● ● ●

I have a one week old child. I'm still a little bit baffled by this. And I know I used to hear people say how different their babies look after a week and it's sad how fast they grow and I didn't believe it, but I'm looking at these pictures now and realizing how completely different she looks now. Sigh. They grow old so fast.

Our birth experience was lovely and amazing and hard and looking back it sort of seems like it was all a dream. The past week has felt like a dream too. We are three now, and can't imagine it any other way.

four miles for forty weeks

Today we were planning on meeting up with Robbie's grandpa for a little bit at Arlington Cemetery because he had flown out with a group of fellow World War II vets on an Honor Flight, but thanks to the Marine Corps Marathon it took us like an hour to drive there instead of 15 minutes and then we had to park by the Mall and walk over the bridge. Long story short we ended up walking four miles and I was wearing a pair of moccasins which in hindsight wasn't the greatest idea but I guess this is what you do once your due date comes and goes and you start walking everywhere in your fair city to get the party started. But the weather has been nothing short of amazing and the leaves are really starting to look incredible so I really have no reason to complain. Robbie also told me that he always wanted to remember how I looked today and that made me feel really sentimental. I will miss being pregnant.

it's a little bit funny, this feeling inside

Li'l Ham two weeks ago at 37 weeks

This is such a weird time in my life. So weird, and so awesome! People have been asking me if I'm "ready" for the baby to come. I interpret this to mean one of two things—there is the practical "ready," like is my hospital bag packed (yes), is the crib set up (yes), did I hire a cleaning lady to come and deep clean my apartment so I wouldn't have to stare at a dirty floor during labor (yes). But really, even though I've checked off many of those practical boxes, you're never really "ready," are you?

Then after the practical "ready" is the physical "ready." "I'm sure you are just READY for this baby to get out already!" "Aren't you exhausted?" "Are you just... done?" Well, yes and no. I told my midwife today that I actually really like being pregnant! I'm okay waiting till the baby's ready to come. The baby hasn't given me much trouble and I'd be totally ungrateful if I complained about being pregnant. I'm tired of having to pee all the time and not getting a good night's sleep, but if that's the worst that's going to happen during pregnancy—I'll take it.

It's really such an amazing thing and—trite as it sounds—I realize that this is the last time I'll ever be in this season. I mean, I hope that we have more children, but this is the last time it'll just be me and the baby inside. There will be more distractions, I might be in a more fragile physical state next time, I just don't know. So I'm trying to enjoy it.

The other thing that's been weird about this season of life is the change I've undergone that hasn't been physical. Not the "I'm going to be a mom!" change but the "I'm not really a mom yet, what am I?" change. Lots of people probably know that I left my old job back in March, which wasa decision I made in the fall, and it just so happened that I found out I was pregnant that week too. Which was great! That's what I wanted and hoped for. But it shifted my focus from "what job am I going to look for now?" to "what can I do to get ready for life with a baby?" I had grand plans to find a different job when I was planning all this out and I just threw it all aside, other than some freelance projects I have worked on over the past few months. I feel like living in DC has made me feel like I have to explain myself all the time when it comes to work because that's how most people define themselves. You can basically predict how any conversation with a new acquaintance in DC will go—it inevitably starts with "so, what do you do for work?"(followed by "so, where are you from? No, not where do you live, like where are you FROM, originally?") and I don't have a good answer! The good answer, I realize, is "I'm growing a baby—that's a lot of work" but for whatever reason I haven't been able to muster up the courage to tell people what I do all day. I take care of my house, I make stuff, I visit people? I don't know. It sounds dumb. That's probably why I couch my answer in some sort of vague answer like "oh, I work from home," which is technically true. 

What further complicates all of that is that I was never really happy with the type of work that I was doing before I got pregnant and I spent many tearful nights trying to figure out what I wanted to DO with my life and I never got a good feeling about any of it. I mean, I guess it's not that complicated after all—what I want to do is raise kids and be a good mom and contribute to society in some way, and maybe "some way" is by raising good kids and not by spending my evenings and weekends doing work I was only mildly enthusiastic about at times. 

I have a feeling that once the baby does come and I have a little bit more purpose than merely being a vessel of sorts then some of this anxiety might be alleviated. I realized the other day at brunch with some friends how boring my conversations have become these past few months as I blabbed on about red raspberry leaf tea and doulas and birth stories and prenatal yoga and other things completely uninteresting to people who don't care about pregnancy or babies. I have always found these things totally fascinating but if I didn't have Robbie there to turn and find someone else to talk to I probably would be ignorant of the fact that some people just don't care. (Only slightly kidding—though this is how I feel any time the conversation turns to airline points too so it's only fair that he and I treat these conversations similarly.) But I really don't have anything else to talk about right now except for how I just finished five seasons of Doctor Who in a matter of weeks and some people find Doctor Who more boring and foreign than pregnancy so I'm just kind of stuck. 

Unless, of course, you want to talk about Twin Peaks—I'm totally your girl. Team Coop all the way.

a li'l shower for li'l ham

Zacky vying for "Best Hair" award

The beautiful hostesses: Jesse (who made most of the awesome food and hosted at her apartment), Julie (who did... I don't know, everything??), and Christina (who designed the most adorable invites and favors that I don't seem to have pictures of??)

Last weekend my dear Capitol Hill friends threw a shower for the wee babe. It is always kind of a hilarious challenge to host gatherings in our tiny city apartments, but Julie bravely stepped up to the task and orchestrated a really lovely afternoon full of friends and delicious food and "awwww"-ing over tiny baby things. We are so blessed to have made such wonderful friends at church, work, and in our neighborhood during our time in DC and it was really nice to see everyone together at the same time!

My niece Ida was awesome and helped me unwrap my presents. I really wish that someone had a camera to capture the look on her face when she walked in the room—it was her first ever baby shower and she looked like she was going to explode with excitement. An entire party dedicated to giving presents to an unborn baby? This concept was blowing her mind. (It is kind of funny.) We got lots of books for baby (and no duplicates! I have very literary friends with excellent and diverse tastes) and she kept pausing to say, "Oh, this is a REALLY good one—should I read it to you?" Also, when did she get old enough to read? I'm freaking out a little.

Also. Julie is moving to London next week. I don't even want to talk about it. She is one of my very best besties here in DC (she moved back to DC from NYC around the same time we moved here from Paris and we were a match made in internet heaven) and I don't know what I'm going to do without her being in the neighborhood anymore. She is amazing for taking the time to plan this shower in the midst of a hectic move overseas and I am just so thankful for her. 

Anyway, enough sappy talk. I can't get into it here. So here we are, just acting natural:

Thanks everyone for showering this little Ham with so much love!

whoop! there it is

Welcome, third trimester!

Thus far my pregnancy has been uneventful (except for the time at thirteen weeks I threw up in the gutter of a Big Lots parking lot in the ghetto), for which I am extremely grateful and fortunate. But today my body seemed to say "okay, it's officially your third trimester, so you better get used to being uncomfortable." While we were waiting for our friends' baby's baptism to begin this afternoon I suddenly started feeling dizzy and the room started spinning so I spent most of the ceremony in the dark basement of the church chugging a ton of water to combat what was probably dehydration, and then a couple minutes after Robbie took these pictures I went inside and pulled off my bra because my ribcage has expanded too much for me to comfortably fit in it anymore. So, you know. Minor inconveniences. But it would be nice to be able to wear a bra again.

I really do feel good though. I started really showing a couple of weeks ago so now I've gotten a couple of random stranger compliments, and the baby moves around like crazy. I love and crave fish (used to hate it) and really spicy food. When I eat dessert/processed sugar (which I'm not supposed to be doing thanks to our midwife practice's strict nutrition guidelines) I get severe headaches, so I guess that's probably a good thing since I'm not supposed to be doing it. It is hard to sit and watch people eat my favorite treats in front of me so I hope my perseverance pays off in the end.

I'm still biking around town, and I'm wondering when I'm going to start losing my balance and can't do it anymore. A really nice (and fit) woman was riding behind me up the Hill the other day as I was huffing and puffing my way up and she said "You know, I had my first baby 6 months ago and I was riding almost until my due date and I think it really helped me bounce back afterward, so keep up the good work!" It was really encouraging and it makes me happy that I haven't gotten lots of unsolicited advice or rude comments from strangers. People really are nice. Except for like 90% of Metro riders who never offer me their seat on crowded trains.

Speaking of Metro, please bless that I won't have my baby on the Metro platform.

We don't know the sex of the baby, but Robbie thinks it's a boy. I kind of do too because I've had lots of dreams about it being a boy (even before I was pregnant), but then I had two girl dreams recently and I just don't know what to believe anymore. People sometimes ask me if I want one over the other, but really—I'm just happy to be here, folks.

I am nesting up a storm and I've made hats, blankets, and burp cloths galore. We're also spending lots of time rearranging and buying new furniture (mostly just stuff with drawers) and our house looks like a construction zone.

Thanks to magic grease-zapping hormones, I only have to wash my hair every week and a half. What?? Can this last forever, please? That kind of makes up for the sugar-induced migraines.

Robbie is done traveling for work. HALLELUJAH.

I can't believe we're just twelve weeks away from D-Day because that seems really close and also really far away.

But I'm super excited.

too busy thinking 'bout my baby

My mom has left me with the impression that if I didn't blog it, it's not official yet. So, here it is—Li'l Ham, joining our family this October. Robbie and I are pretty much beside ourselves. I even made a playlist to commemorate it.

Also, please don't judge my apparent lack of eyebrows, which are always hiding behind my glasses—I need some fake ones a la Stan Sitwell.

Also also, that bump is part baby and part big lunch. It's kind of touch and go around here with "is she pregnant? or is she chubby?"

a birthday

A year ago today, my brother and sister in-law welcomed baby Jonah to the world. He was only here for 11 days but in that time (and in the year since) he brought our family together and gave us perspective on life and eternal families. I am grateful to celebrate his life while I'm here in Monrovia (for the world's shortest trip) and after an inspiring weekend of General Conference.

I'm grateful for my family and how they bless my life every day. Happy birthday, Jonah!

showered

This weekend we (me, Lisa, Julie) threw a shower for our friend Tamra, who is having a baby boy in just a few short weeks! FYI—I can't think of anything more fun than giving showers. The three of us had such a good time crafting up a storm and sharing ideas, and then to top it off with ooh-ing and aah-ing with friends over baby things was really just the icing on top.

Speaking of icing, the food was awesome. Julie made monkey bread, gruyere asparagus tarts, and tiny ham sandwiches; Lisa made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies and experimented with flavored waters; and I brought lots of pre-made stuff for a yogurt parfait bar. (I invested most of my energy in the crafting and I have a microwave-sized oven—give me a break!) Julie also found a winning shower activity that didn't involve a melted candy bar in a diaper—I wrote letters on 26 pieces of cardstock, and each of the attendees drew a picture to correspond with the letter to make a little alphabet book for baby boy! It was really fun because it was a social activity that everyone participated in (even the ones who claimed they weren't artistic joined in on the fun) and will make a fun keepsake for Tamra and the babe.

Anyway, it was a really fun morning. If you're having a baby, please let us throw a party for you. We're seriously considering starting a business (and I even invested in a beverage dispenser and a heart-shaped hole punch—I know, it's the big time).