It’s been quite a few days and I’ve been more detached from social media than I am used to, but for good reason. The last 9 months have been of me posting about when this baby is coming or why I’m too busy to do anything because baby has been on my mind. I honestly thought this day was never going to come – 9 months is a hell of a long wait but at the end of that 9 months, you realize very quickly that it’s worth all the time and money and preparation and everything else you do to bring a life into this world.
Skip the jargon if you just care about pictures. I’m getting into story-telling mode.
Her story begins on Friday, September 2nd at 8PM. Diana’s contractions had been starting almost a week ago, but she never felt they were strong enough to warrant going to the hospital. There were a few times we almost packed up and went but held off a little longer. This time, they were stronger than they’ve been all week and as they say – if you can’t talk or walk through them, it’s time – and it was that time. Fast forward to 9PM and we’re in triage waiting monitoring her contractions and baby’s heart beat. 9:45 comes and the contractions get slightly weaker, and the time between them starts to get longer. “We’re going to get sent home”, we thought to ourselves. It’s kind of disappointing because you want this kid to come so bad and we came all the way here only to get sent back and monitor at home.
10:15PM comes and *pop*. The next half hour goes by quick – her water breaks and we’re quickly put into the labour room where it’s only a matter of time before baby makes her grand entrance…
Within a matter of minutes, Diana is laid in bed, tubes poking in her and monitors strapped to the belly to make sure everything is OK. A nurse stays with us the whole time only ever leaving to get something. It was a nice experience knowing that someone is there to make sure Diana and the baby are OK until the time comes.
You can’t tell here, but Diana’s contractions are hitting 12 out of 12 on the graph. What I witnessed that day is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I don’t know, but labour pain is probably the most torture you willingly put your body through. It’s hard not to respect every Mom that has gone through this because it is truly something amazing.
Of course, in order for baby to make her grand entrance, she’s going to make us wait and she made damn sure that Diana was going to work for it too. Well, 6.5 hours of labour brought us to the last stretch. 2.5 hours after that, Aria decided to finally come and say hi.
And just like that – all the pain, all the waiting, all the tiredness we have felt in the last 12 hours suddenly goes away. You get a second wind, and every emotion decides to surface. If there’s one thing I’ve never felt before, it’s tears of joy and happiness. Until she came, I thought the love Diana and I had for each other was unconditional love – the best and purest I have ever known for the last 14 years. Nothing got between Diana and I and this baby was going to be a +1.
Boy, was I wrong. The second I saw her come out, a new kind of love just overwhelmed me. You get this flash of the past, present and future – how we got here, how great this moment is, and how every second of this baby’s future will be as perfect as I can possibly make it. I’ve got a selfish personality – everyone that knows me well knows this. Suddenly, I’m willing to give every ounce of my world and energy to this little person that doesn’t even know me.
Hopefully not too NSFW, but those words are expressed here when Diana got to hold Aria for the first time.
They quickly took her back just to make sure everything was good to go.
She came in at 6lbs 8.5oz. A lot bigger than we were originally expecting since she was measuring small even at 37 weeks in the womb.
And those 9 hours that Diana grudgingly fought through just melted away. Nothing matters at this moment.
The cutest alien-being I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
A few hours later, we got admitted to post-partum and we relaxed for the next 24 hours. I use the term “relaxed” very loosely – it was one of the most painful 24 hours we’ve ever endured. A hospital room can make you go crazy – the air, the environment, the smell… We needed air to feel like we weren’t in an insane asylum. Added on top of that, we were going on about 50 hours of no sleep. Adrenaline ran out, energy levels were at the lowest I’ve ever experienced but you look at your baby and you know you’ll go till you die.
She started to get colour back in her skin and she was chubbing it up.
Finally at home and we’re loving every second of it.
I would like to introduce everyone to her ‘milk coma’ face. Without fail, she gets so tired that she can barely hold bottom lip closed. It’s the best lol.
And so it ends there… Whether I’m having the worst day or I’m just feeling blue – this face keeps me going. It’s what makes me get up at every squeak and cry, it gets me moving, and you know how people have things that make them want to be a better person? This is my thing.