Month: August 2016

Four Generations

Georgia Grace is one lucky girl. This week, her grandmother and great grandmother came to meet her, and for the first time in my family’s history, four generations of ladies shared a room.

These two women have served as my role models for the past 34 years. I have learned so much from them, and I know Georgia Grace will, too. Dave, Gigi, and I are so honored and grateful that Grandmother and Great Ganny made the trip to New York City all the way from Mississippi.

Would you believe Georgia Grace’s Great Ganny is 90 years old?!

 

 

Growing Up

Just as Dr. Wasserman promised, twelve days into life, Gigi’s umbilical stump fell off. I bent down to pick up a burp cloth while holding her, and felt something hit the ground. When I saw what dropped, I lost it. I never anticipated this would be a tough moment for me. I always felt (and still feel) that I can accept my baby growing and growing up as time passes because I know every moment and every phase will build on the last and it will only get better from there. But this was different. It wasn’t nostalgia that overcame me — it was the realization that our physical connection was over, and I was no longer able to protect her inside me as I had done the nine months before. Inside of me, I could make sure she was safe. Outside, she faces so much more. That stump was the last of what connected me to her and allowed me to perfectly care for her until the moment her father cut the cord at her birth. I reeeeeally don’t mean to dramatize the moment, but I want to be honest. And the truth of the matter is that this was very hard.

Dr. Wasserman

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One of the great benefits of living in this big ol’ city is that we have access to some of the best doctors on the planet. And Dr. Corey Wasserman is no exception. In fact, where pediatricians are concerned, she is the best. She is brilliant, is a young mother of her own baby G, and is as sweet and personable as they come. I mean, who insists on taking a family pic with her five-day old patient? Dr. Wasserman, that’s who.

Getting Her Home

Putting her in the car seat; one of the many times I realized I was WAY overconfident about this whole baby thing. I read the instructions and did a dry run days earlier by installing the car seat in an Uber without a baby. But having her there (so tiny), knowing we were about to drive through Manhattan and down the racetrack that is the FDR, made me feel at the time like getting her perfectly secure was the most important thing I’d ever do.  It was 90 degrees out and the f*cking Uber driver kept giving me advice and trying to help by sticking his crusty hands all in Georgia’s car seat right after we walked out of the safe, sterile hospital.  He also kept opening the car door to video tape me (he took the camera from Debbie, there is a video), which let the air conditioning out and the heat in. This is me trying to pretend like I’m relaxed for the picture.

Hiccups

Georgia Grace has suffered the fate of chronic hiccups since before I met her. Just 16 weeks into my pregnancy, I started feeling them. When people asked how it felt, I’d tell them it feels just as you would expect: like there’s someone inside of you who has the hiccups. Now that she’s here with us on the outside, guess what? She STILL gets them every day, multiple times per day. And although they drive her crazy, watching her hiccup is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

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Georgia Grace Is Here!

It took two hours of cheering and coaching and crying and pushing (…all the while, classical music played in the background), but Georgia Grace Welch arrived safely at 2:01am on Friday, August 12, 2016. She was 7 pounds, 6.2 ounces, and 21 and 3/4 inches of pure love. She had big, dark eyes and a healthy olive complexion. She was the most beautiful and perfect thing we’d ever seen.
Dr. Kramer placed Georgia Grace on my chest for ‘skin to skin’ contact. She was then whisked away for Vitamin K, her APGAR test (she scored a 9 — smarty pants), measurements, footprints, and all the other things that go along with welcoming a newborn into the world. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the process that is Delivering The Placenta. If you don’t know, then you shouldn’t until you must… and that’s all I have to say about that. Twenty minutes later, Gigi was back in my arms and ready for her first meal on earth. She latched right away, and in an instant, I felt like a mom.
Once my epidural had worn off completely — the nurse had me stand and march in place to prove it… ouch — we were escorted to our private suite Dave had thoughtfully arranged in advance. We were greeted by a nurse who proceeded to talk at us for AN HOUR. We watched the clock creep from 4am to 5am, and then Dave went back down to Au Bon Pain for food. I had a hot ham and cheese croissant; I may never taste food so delicious again.
After we ate, we settled in to sleep, feeling grateful. Our sweet girl had made it safely into the world and we were a complete family of three.
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Gigi’s Best Friend

Even before Georgia Grace was born, we knew sweet Charlotte Hahn would be her best friend forever and ever. Although it was always “the plan” for Dana and I to be simultaneously pregnant with baby girls and raise them to be best friends, I don’t think either one of us ever realized we’d be lucky enough for it to actually happen. But last December, we realized the plan was in the cards after all. The girls were born weighing the same amount (7 pounds, 6 ounces) exactly four months apart. The day we went to the hospital to bring Georgia Grace into the world, her Aunt Dana woke her best friend, Charlotte, to share the news.

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Phase Two

When I woke the next morning, the doctor removed the Cervadil and gave me about 45 minutes to freshen up and have breakfast — which would be my last meal until our baby arrived — before the real fun would begin. Dave went to Au Bon Pain and bought enough food for a family of five: a bagel, two sandwiches, fruit salad, a hard boiled egg, juice, Gatorade, and a Diet Pepsi. What an amazing husband I have, right?
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After breakfast, the nurse began an IV drip of Pitocin, the medication that would induce contractions that would ultimately nudge our baby girl into the world. Not long after, Dr. Boester came by to break my water, which, having gone through that experience, appears to be aptly named. I started feeling contractions almost immediately, though I tried to be tough for as long as I could. Under the counsel of my obstetrician, I waited as long as I could… if the epidural wasn’t going to work, I wanted to wait as long as possible to find out. Guess what? It worked.
…or so I thought. Around 4pm, it began to wear off, and the pain relief would only diminish from there. The good news? The epidural was 100% effective on my right side. The unfortunate news was that, at 5pm, I began to accept that iit didn’t really work at all on the left. As a couple who enjoys the luxury of pretty much calling all the shots in their day-to-day life, this was a devastating blow (and possibly a good pre-kid lesson in our lack of control to come). I braced myself for the long road ahead.
By 9, I was in agony. Dave was going back and forth between our room and the nurses’ station to try and find someone who could alleviate the pain. At 10pm, the obstetric anesthesiologist delivered the final blow: I wouldn’t be receiving anymore anesthetic. I wanted to cry.
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The contractions worsened, and moments after I learned I was 8 centimeters dilated, Dr. Kramer came in and asked if I was ready to push. It took a minute to realize she wasn’t asking; she was telling: it was time to push. It was midnight.