One year later...

How Far Along: Y'all - we made it ONE WHOLE YEAR! My sweet girl is ONE YEAR OLD!!

Baby Size: Well, according to Baby Center, I no longer have a baby. Apparently, I now have a toddler. I want to choke someone every time that I see those emails. I asked her the other day where Mommy's Baby was... she pointed to her 3 month old picture on the wall. I asked her where Mommy's Big Girl was and she patted her chest. Last night, I cried... a lot. (I'm not ready for this!) Peyton came over, crawled in my lap, hugged me and patted me until I stopped crying.

Total Weight Gain: Well, I'm now back to my pre-baby weight and Peyton is somewhere around the 20 lb mark.

Maternity Clothes: All packed and put away. (Except for a couple of shirts that were just too comfortable to part with. I keep telling myself that I can pull it off - that it's the stylishly baggy look.)

Stretch Marks: Got 'em. Amazingly, my belly made it through unscathed, except for one at the very bottom of my belly. My hips and legs ended up with the most of the damage. They're fading now, and they don't really bother me.

Best moment this year: Could I really choose??? I love it when she loves me though. Maybe it would be that morning when she picked up her head from my shoulder and intentionally kissed and hugged me out of the blue. That was pretty special.

Miss Anything? I miss her early days and 'nuggles. Oh my goodness, do I ever miss the snuggles. I also am missing a fair chunk of my memories. I cannot really remember much of the first 6 months. I really only remember what I have pictures of, and those are only of her. So unless you happened to be in a picture with the kid, sorry... Also, does anyone remember anything that I did last Thanksgiving??? That one seems to be gone completely - and it kind of wigs me out.

Movement: Lord have mercy! We're starting to RUN now! But it's so fun. While I miss holding her, there's something special about having her right up under my feet.

Food Cravings: Sadly, nothing tastes as good as it did back during those preggo days. But I'm so glad I can eat whatever I want now! She's eating too! (All those cravings I had back then, she likes now.) Also, super glad that she's not a picky eater. She likes vegetables! Whoo-hooo!

Started to show yet? Uhm... no. We've deflated. Well, she does have this cute, pudgy little belly that I just LOVE.

Gender: Girl. Duh. Boy is she ever a girly-girl! She loves 'shooos,' and jewelry, and looking at herself in the mirror. She also LOVES to be told she's beautiful.

Belly Button in or out? Mine's back in, and her's is sorta innie-outie.

Wedding Rings on or off? Back on! So glad for that one!

Weird Pregnancy Stuff? NONE! Though, the whole getting the hormones back to normal thing was rough.

Random Ramblings:  Words: Mama, Dada, Mommy, Daddy, Moo, Roof-roof!, shoos, tank-ooo, Mo, lo-lo, No, Hello, Hey, ga-ga, poppy, papa, me-me, I love you... and some other stuff, but I'm drawing a blank. She also can show you how old she is, knows how touch-screen's work, and she calls things she likes and wants to hold "Boppy." We don't know what that means or where it comes from. She's a smart cookie. She's beginning to love her Monkey, George. She needs to have him right under her every morning. Her Daddy calls her "Pootie." She responds to this from him just as she would Peyton. She likes animals and books. She thinks babies are weird. If babies cry she kind of looks at me like: "What the heck?" She has a great tan - people always ask where she gets it from. They're astonished when I tell them that she was born that way. (Oh my goodness... there is no way to sum all of this up!!!)

Looking forward to: it all. More hugs. More kisses. More cuddles. More sick days watching The Muppetts. More Bath Times. More everything.

Okay, so here are a few pictures from the past year. (By few, I mean somewhere around 100.) No particular order; most are not edited at all. (Meaning: they may be grainy phone pictures, you may see us tired, our house dirty, and me with no make-up.)

This has been the hardest - but the most wonderful - year of my life. I just want to share a bit with you.

Peace, Love, and Snuggly Stuff,
~Beth

I want YOU!!

So, this morning, I posted a picture of a Bible Study I’m currently working though on my Instagram and Facebook… (Beth Moore’s Children of The Day – in case you didn’t see it.)

Let me tell you – this is good.

For those of you who have done a Beth Moore Bible Study – I don’t have to tell you how good this is. For those of you who haven’t ever had a chance to Study under Mrs. Moore, please believe me when I say: YOU NEED TO GO TO ONE OF HER BIBLE STUDIES! Her studies have been GAME-CHANGERS for me and so, so many others. I cannot tell you how much Bible Study has changed my entire life. Sound dramatic? It has been. But I’m not overstating when I say ENTIRE LIFE. I’ve often told Ben that I so wish that I would have had something like this available to me when I was younger – and I am so thankful that God has supplied opportunities for Bible Study for me now.

One of those times when I was talking about how I wish something like this had been supplied back home, God was like: "Well, what about you?"

Okay, so speaking to the ladies back home… (You know, the Ridgeland-Tillman-Coosawhatchie-Hardeeville-etc-etc  area.)Starting Sept 13^th and going until November 15^th, I will be headed back to good ol’ Jasper County every weekend.

WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD I DO THAT?!?!???

I miss the smothering humidity and heat – and you know I miss the bugs!! Just kidding, just kidding. It’s because I want to Study the Bible with you!! I want to give the women that I grew up around and with the opportunity to take part in something very dear to my heart. SO… every Saturday from 9:30AM – 11:30AM Jesus and I will be chilling at the old Social Hall at Great Swamp Baptist Church (No, you don’t have to know me or be a member of Great Swamp to show up. You don’t even have to be Baptist! Blackmail or bribe a friend to come with you if you want to!) drinking coffee and going through 1 & 2 Thessalonians with Beth Moore.

… and we’d like to see you there!

I know, it’s early.

I know, it’s Saturday.

BUT it’s worth it. It’s so worth it! Oh please don’t miss out if you can help it!

What’s all involved in this Bible Study?Well, there are four different levels to choose from:
Level One: You can just show up and watch the video sessions and chat with us.

Level Two: You can watch the video sessions and do the weekly homework. (It’s not bad – I promise!! The books are $15.00, but it’s worth the cash and the time. If you’d like to complete the homework, but you’re not sure if you can afford a book – Hey, I’ve been there. – just hit me up and we’ll see what we can work out.)

Level Three:  You can watch the videos, do the weekly homework, and write 1 & 2 Thessalonians in the back of your workbook.

Level Four: You can watch the videos, do the weekly homework, write 1 & 2 Thessalonians, and memorize 1 and/or 2 Thessalonians.

Okay, that sounds like a lot… I know, it’s intimidating. I’m asking you to show up early on a Saturday – for 9 weeks, dish out $15 bucks, and do homework and memorization?!?! (Don't worry, I'm going to try to work around Gopher Hill.) Yes, I’m asking you to do that. But I promise - Jesus will give you back WAY more than you’re putting in.

Best way I can explain it: ever seen the movie “Hitch”???

You go 10% of the way – and He’ll go 90%.

All he wants is your 10%, my friends.

If you have any questions or you’d like to come along, just call, text, or email me. My email is: ejcabiness@gmail.com

Lessons From A Car Seat

God has taught me so much through parenting.
One of the biggest and most special things He is teaching me, isn't about Peyton  - or even about myself. He is teaching me who HE is.

I have been wanting to write a few posts on this subject since I found out I was pregnant, but I find myself lacking in either the word or the time department.

I'm going to share this story now though, because I need to read it. Over and over, I need to read it.

Peyton isn't fond of her car seat. She's okay with it if she has a short drive, but you can hang long drives up.
The other night, we made a decently long drive to see a friend. (By long drive, I mean 35-45 minutes.) She was fine on the way there. She was out stone-cold. It was a much needed nap for her, and a relief for me... I hate to hear her cry. On the way home though, (Home: a place that she dearly loves.) I was not so blessed. She was tired. She was hungry. She hates that stinky old car seat. After about 10 minutes, the crying began.
I cannot begin to tell you how those little cries were tearing my heart to pieces. I would reach back and try to hold her hand. I would sing her songs. I called Ben and made him sing her songs over the phone. Multiple times I just flat out told her that we were going home. I told her she would get hurt if I took her out of the car seat. I told her it would take even longer to get home if we stopped the car and let her out for a bit.
She continued to cry.
She couldn't understand any of the things I was trying to get through to her.
She only understood three things:
1: I'm supposed to love her.
2: I put her in the car seat.
3: I am capable of taking her out of her car seat.

And yet, here I was - mean old Mommy - leaving her in the car seat. Couldn't I see she was unhappy? Didn't I care? Didn't I love her?

Yes. I love her. I cried because I knew my baby was unhappy. I just knew that for her safety and ultimate happiness, I had to leave her in that car seat for a while.

In the middle of my tearful explanations and apologizes to my child that refused to be patient and understanding, God painted a picture of my own life.

I've been there, (many, many times.) crying out to God: "You love me, don't you?! Don't you want me to be happy? Don't you want what's best for me? Why aren't you rescuing me? Why are you leaving me here? Why is this happening?" I cry and cry and cry... and then cry some more because I supposedly didn't get an answer.

First: While it's good to bring my anxieties to Him (1 Peter 5:7) - in these cases, instead of crying and talking incessantly, maybe I should calm down; maybe I would hear the answer. God doesn't always speak in a loud, thundering voice. (To be honest, I probably don't want him to do it that way. I'm completely sure that it would scare the living daylights out of me.) In 1 Kings 19:11-13, God spoke to Elijah not through the wind, fire, or even an earthquake - but in a still, small voice. Sometimes, I just need to shut-up long enough to hear Him.

Second: During those times, maybe I should accept the fact that there are some things that I am not able to understand. No matter how hard I try to explain to Peyton that she does not want to crawl down I-85, she will not understand. (Unless I put her out there, and I love her too much to do that.) She's not going to understand that the car seat that she hates so much, is for her protection. But I know those things. I must remember that there are some things and some times in life that I am either only going to understand later on - or I may never understand at all. I can trust that God is getting me to where ever it is, the fastest and safest way possible. He could be protecting me from something much greater than an uncomfortable momentary necessity.

Third: He hears my cries - and he cares. I'm his child. I believe that my cries break his heart - and that he will step in in a mighty way, when it is in my best interest. He doesn't want me unhappy any more than I want to be unhappy. He does want what is best for me, though - and since I don't always understand what's best for me, this means that I'm going to be unhappy some days. But I can rejoice in the fact that it is only for a little while - there is a greater joy on the other side.

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing in his sheaves with him.

- Psalms 126: 5-6

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

- 2 Corinthians 4:17

Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

- John 13:7

Letters to Peyton: War Buddies

Dear Peyton,

Tomorrow, you will be 8 months old! Can you believe it?! I can't. It feels like it was only yesterday... and yet, it feels like you've always been here.

Some women say that they instantly LOVE, LOVE, LOVE their babies the moment that they find out they are pregnant. I hate to tell you, but it wasn't that way with us. Don't get me wrong, I did love you, but not the way that I love you now. Our love has been a growing-love. I loved you the moment you were born, but not the way that I love you now. Our love has been forged in the fires of war, and strengthened by a lot of prayer and time.
I've often made the comparison that your Daddy and I are war buddies in our marriage. It's us against the world. When I held you for the first time, I felt as if they handed me another war buddy. I didn't realize at the time how accurate that idea would be.


The fact is, all of this love was made through some tough moments.
Moments when I didn't know if I could wake up enough to walk across the house to pick you up at 2 in the morning.
Moments when I couldn't figure out WHY IN THE WORLD IS SHE STILL CRYING?!
Moments when I have had to hand you to your Daddy, cry myself to sleep, and just nap for a while.
Moments when I was scared that I would drop you, drown you, or damage you.
Moments like the first time I hit your head. (I cried for 2 hours; you didn't cry at all.)
Moments like the first time I had to bathe you by myself. (Just so you know, you cried every time I put you in the bath. You didn't cry when your grandmothers bathed you, just me. Want to talk about a confidence killer?)
Moments when you would seriously feed for close to an hour. (You always fell asleep on the boob.)
Moments when I would fall asleep with you on my chest... I'd wake up freaking out and crying because I thought that I had killed you with the covers.
Moments when I couldn't hear or see you breathing... so I would (again) freak out and wake you up. (We would both cry when I did that.)
Moments at the doctors office when I was desperately praying that you would have gained a little weight - and that they wouldn't tell me that you'd have to be back again in another 3 days.
Days when we never left the comfort of the big bed. (We watched a lot of Doctor Who those first few weeks.)
Moments when I have to chase you around to put a diaper on your behind.
Moments of anger and jealousy when you seemed to want someone over me - or if people acted like they knew you and what was best for you, better than I did.
Moments when your Daddy and I have thought we were going to go crazy because you would not stop screaming because of how much you hate being in your car seat for anything longer than a 10 minute trip. (Unless you're sleepy, in which case, you love your car seat.)
Moments when I honestly wondered if any of us would ever make it through this thing alive.

Let me tell you, child: it is tough.
But let me tell you, child: it is good.

Oh I love your spunk! I love your little mischievous grin - like the one that you have when I try to get you to say "Mama" and you say "Dada" instead.
I love moments like last night. We took you to Charming Charlies. It's a gigantic jewelry store filled with mirrors - two of your favorite things. You were in hog heaven! You smiled and giggled the entire time!
I love how you love to snuggle when you're sleepy. I always like to smell that sweet, soft spot on the back of your neck. (Mmmm... fresh, clean baby!)
I love rocking you to sleep.
I love how every night, you fall asleep rubbing your Daddy's beard with one hand, and your left ear with the other.
I love how when we took you to the beach for the first time, you screamed bloody murder and crawled up your Daddy like a monkey.
I laughed when your Aunt Kasie was feeding you your bottle and you literally kicked your cousin out of the chair with those mule-like legs of yours. You actually do love him. I love how much you love him. It's so sweet (and a little gross) how you two like to try to share your paci. It's so sweet how he gives you kisses.
I love how you never care if people change your clothes, paint your nails, or draw on your face.
I love how you are not scared of any animals.
I love how you're not scared of the bath tub or the pool - but you're scared to death of the water hose and rain.
I love how you just babble all of time.
I love how you growl at people.
I love watching your face when you learn new things.
I love how you love everyone in the world, but you love your Daddy and me the most.
I love how you like to pull things out of boxes and bags, but you like to put them back too. (Hoping this keeps up. Maybe you'll be a good house keeper!)
I love how every time we turn on your hopping bunny rabbit, you always get this HUGE grin - and keep looking back at us like: "Are you watching this?! Can you BELIEVE what that rabbit is doing?!"
I love all of the times that I rocked you to sleep to "Hotel California" or "Piano Man." (You never liked the nursery rhymes.)
I love how excited you get when you see me at the end of the day.
I love how much you love me.

Before, I loved you because you were cute. I loved you because you were small and innocent. I loved you because you were mine to love.
But now... Oh, how I love you now! You found your spot in my heart, and you bury yourself in there a little deeper every day.
Out of all of the babies, in all of the whole, wide world: you're my very favorite. Given a choice, I would always pick you. I couldn't imagine any other baby for whom I'd want to trip over laundry baskets at 2am. (And it's not just because you're incredibly cute.)

With Love,
Your War-Buddy,
Mommy

Peyton's Grand Entrance (Part 2)

... I've learned you must snag a moment when it presents itself. I'm typing this out on my phone, so forgive the errors.

Also, I am going to be completely honest here. I want to keep an honest account for Peyton and for me. Don't continue to read if you don't REALLY want to know the truth. You've been warned.

Okay, where was I? Oh yes, 11am! 

Ben, my parents, and Ben's parents were all chilling out in my room. I was writing thank-you notes (if you haven't received one yet, yours was in this pile! I lost them shortly after this and am still on the search!) contemplating on if I would even need an epidural - so far, this was a breeze! The room was filled with chatter and laughter. Everything was hunky-dory until they broke my water. 

Right before the doctor walked back out, I asked her for a possible time frame. She told me that they didn't expect me to deliver until much later that night or early the next morning.

But, Peyton has a track record of doing things her own way. Her daddy jokingly guessed it months before: She was going to procrastinate until the last minute and then be in an incredible hurry... Just like her dear old Mom.

By lunch, I had stopped attempting anything to do with the thank you notes... And the laughter and chatter were flat out getting on my nerves. Every time I had a contraction, everyone would get so happy. Couldn't these people see I was in pain?! I didn't want to say anything though, because I had decided I was going to be tough. No screams, complaints, or the like from this girl. No sir-ee! I was going to be the toughest, most impressive woman to give birth anyone had ever seen!

So... I kicked them all out. I think Rhonda was about to anyway. And she was great - anything I needed she was there! She really was an angel! I cried a little when I told her I wasn't all that comfortable. She told me we still needed to wait another centimeter or two if I could before I could get the epidural. I was only around a 3 when they broke my water. BUT, she could get a some sort of pain medicine in an IV. I agreed. I had heard a lot of moms speak against this - but I needed it. I needed it more than I knew. (Apparently there is something to relaxing helping speed up te process.) As soon as she plugged me up, I felt it run through my whole body. I was asleep within minutes - and it was the most fabulous sleep that I had had since I found out that I was pregnant. I didn't feel any of the contractions! 

Soon though, they started in low - but they started to grow. It was almost like they were far away... A little painful - but I would just squeeze Ben's hand and fall back asleep when it was over. I was going to wait as long as possible. The medicine started to wear off though - and those gentle, far-away type contractions became fast, frequent, and intense. I decided to ask for the epidural.

*Okay - pause! Remember when I said that there were like five other couples that went up that morning? Yeah, well this is the part where that has something to do with me. All of those girls ended up needing to have C-sections... Which is major surgery. Do you know what major surgery requires? Anesthesiologists! Two Anesthesiologists in the whole joint that morning. Healthy mom and baby delivering vaginally - last on the list.

It felt like forever. My awesome sleep - turned into the place I go when I pass out. (I could hear everything... But time and space didn't really exist...) I REFUSED to open my eyes. I just knew if I opened my eyes two things would happen: I would see the clock - which would make it seem like it took even longer - and it would make it more real and the pain would get worse. (I never said I was logical.) My hand squeezes had turned to quiet moans. My quiet moans had turned into EXTREMELY loud petitions to Jesus to please make it stop - and asking Ben and the Nurse why the anesthesiologist wasn't coming to help me?!?!

*pause again: okay, so everyone has their  explanation as to what contractions feel like. I will say it is unlike any pain I had ever felt. It's nearly indescribable. The closest way that I have come up with describing it is that it feels like an earthquake in your hips.

My husband is fairly even keeled. Not much rattles him. But my constant crying and begging must have done a good job. He told Rhonda that somebody better get those guys, or he would - and he'd beat them up for the wait.

While Rhonda went to drag back the men with the drugs, Ben stayed with me. He was a champ. I couldn't have asked or wanted any better. He stayed with me and held my hand the entire time. Some women talk about how much they hate their husband in those moments, but I was incredibly clingy and needy. I had to have him right there an I needed to be able to touch him.  

Right before they got there - I heard myself saying. "I can't do this. I can't do this." Which sent my mind into a panic. I always heard that women said that right before they had their babies... Right before it's too late for happy drugs! I very possibly was about to go through my worst pregnancy nightmare: being induced and not getting an epi. (They say that induced contractions are more intense and painful than natural ones.) What had I done?!! There was no way to go back - and there was only one way to stop the pain: have the baby. Oh man, I was so dumb back at the beginning of the year. Really, no clue... And now I was stuck on a runaway train!

Blessed was the moment the meds arrived!!

I'm normally a pretty conservative woman. I had been worried about people seeing me naked. At that moment, I didn't care who saw what... And believe me - I'm sure they all got an eye-full. 

I finally had to open my eyes. They made me sit up. As soon as I did, I had the strangest sensation. I told them all "I can't do this - I need to push." To which everyone in the room said: don't push!!

I hugged Ben as they put the needle in - that part was so hard. Because of the giant needle, you ask? No - I never felt the needle. It was hard because the contractions hurt and I had to sit completely still! They taped my back and had me lay back down. Then the angel man with the drugs told me that they would work soon and that there was nothing to apologize for or be ashamed of for not being able to be the worlds quietest woman in labor.

I fell back asleep and it was awesome... All two minutes of it. Epidurals are a gift from God. I felt nothing. But I was exhausted. I felt like I had run a marathon! But it wasn't over yet - while I was resting the doctor came in and said "Okay looks like you're all ready to start pushing."

PUSHING?! How in the world would I have the energy to do that?!!

It came though - and pushing ended up being my favorite part of the whole deal.

They had to put in a catheter for a few moments to get the epidural to finish taking effect. (Also was a fear of mine. Also didn't hurt.) They turned the lights down and tore my bed apart. Ben was at one leg, Rhonda was at another, and the doctor was at my feet. They ended up having to turn my epidural down because I couldn't feel enough to know when to push. Even after they turned it down, I still felt good! We tried a few practice pushes - I must have been a little loopy because I kept telling them that my friend (she knows who she is) told me that you're just supposed to push like you're going to the bathroom. 

They had to put an oxygen mask on me and had to put a heart monitor in Peyton's head because her heart rate dropped a few times. Finally, I got the swing of things and some energy back and they started making final prep. I asked if I could keep pushing when I felt a contraction. They said sure - so I did. I must have been doing a decent job because when they turned back around it was "oh my" and hyper speed! 

It happened so fast. It was the biggest relief when she came out. I felt like I could breathe again... Granted I was like: "It's over? She's out? Already?

Peyton took her first breath at 4:19pm on October 29th.

(Only 5 hours after they broke my water!)

I had been worried about Ben watching. He watched the whole time. I didn't care and he still loves me. He was so amazed and excited. He cut the cord - and I didn't have to see any blood or guts! I cannot tell you how much I loved watching him. 25 five year olds on Christmas morning have nothing on Ben at that moment. 

I have to say, when I saw her I was impressed with myself. I had done it! (With a lot of prayer and a lot of help!) I made it through alive AND I gave birth to a decent sized baby! 7lbs 5oz 19 inches long... Not too shabby if I do say so myself. 

She was (and still is) the most beautiful little baby. No comparison. Mine's the best. Wouldn't trade her for a million boys, dollars, or cookies. 

... And I would totally, completely, unquestionably, and happily do it all over again. 

(For those of you still wondering what the grandparents were doing... There may or may not have been stalking nursery nurses and listening outside of the delivery room door...)

Peyton's Grand Entrance (Part 1)

This Saturday marks 5 months. The last few months have been indescribable, but totally worth it. I cannot believe that they have gone by so quickly… and yet so slowly. How in the world does THAT work?!

Any-who…

I figured that I would FINALLY write down Peyton’s big entrance.  (It's a long story, so I may end up having to split it up in two parts.) I mean, it’s been five months. Plus, I had a friend tell me that after a while, you start forgetting the first couple of months. I wasn’t sure if I could ever forget at the time, but you really do! I’m not sure what it is, but I’m so glad I was obsessed with taking pictures those first couple of weeks – I don’t remember hardly a bloomin’ thing.

The entire time I was pregnant, I was nervous. I was nervous about everything. But as time marched on, I grew mostly nervous about her impending arrival.
(That’s the thing about pregnancy… eventually, it ends.)

The bad part is, that everyone describes labor – and everyone describes it differently. But they all agree on one thing: You’ll know it when it happens.
Now, how is someone like me supposed to take that? I like to know EXACTLY how things will go. I like to know EXACTLY what to expect. I HAD NO CLUE. Thus, I was a mess. I wanted this to go ahead and happen, but I have this “thing” about pain… I don’t like it.

I had been having small contractions since around 20 weeks. (Apparently, the uterus needs to exercise too.) When the first of October rolled around, I found out that I had already started progressing… and rumor had it that I would spit my darling baby out within a week. Seeing as I was super-stressed, and working hard on our big fancy-shmancy meeting at work, I just KNEW I would have my baby soon! October 3rd was a fair guess, since baby’s sometimes have bad timing and that was the date of our shin-dig. I happily bee-bopped over to my boss and shared the news with the fella’s: This baby was going to be here any minute!!

I was about to wait a whole lotta minutes…

By the 14th of October, I was tired. I was crying constantly. Wouldn’t this baby EVER come out?! The suspense was killing me, I was sure of it. I asked my boss if he would mind if I started my leave a little early, and he was totally understanding. The next two weeks were those of a horror story. I sat at home, eating constantly, bouncing on my ball, timing contractions – all while crying non-stop.

That’s the thing about contractions: you can have a bunch; they can hurt a lot; and they can be getting you absolutely NO-WHERE.

Finally, the day came when I was over-due! I would be able to sign up for an induction. (Judge me if you will, but after a while – you just need that baby out!) I was all registered at the public hospital. I had been planning this for months! They were booked for the next week. No room for us. Not unless my stubborn, snuggly baby decided to come out on her own. BUT there was another option: the private hospital. Now, I had not wanted to go there. I figured it would be a little more expensive, and I still really wanted to save money. But, by this point, I was willing to take a tour of the hospital and talk with the nice people in billing.

I am so very glad I did!

It was wonderful! The delivery rooms, the nursery, the waiting room, and the recovery rooms where all on the same floor – and so close! The family waiting room was connected to the nursery by windows, so our parents would be able to see the baby as soon as they took her away to get cleaned up. Once we talked to Rhonda down in billing, it was set! I had fallen in love with the hospital and the staff – Peyton would be taking her first breaths in Mary Black!

I called my doctor Monday morning, and told them what I had decided. They had me come in and get some things together and ready – I would be induced the next morning at 6AM.

When Ben came home, he found me on the front steps crying my eyes out. I was a crazy mix of emotions. The worst part was that they actually expected me to sleep that night! How in the world would I sleep?! I think I got a total of 4 hours… if you stretched them REALLY far.

I showered, did my hair and make-up, and had to pee 500 million times. In fact, because of all of my “Just let me pee one more time.” ‘s, we were late! Only by like 10 minutes, but late we were! It was dark, foggy, and we got stuck behind a really slow, green truck – who kept popping his brakes at us. We finally made it. I held Ben’s hand as we walked into the building and talked about how weird it was to think that this was the last time we would just be a little family of 2. In a couple of days, we’d be walking out a family of 3.

As we walked in, the security guards joked with us that we were like the fifth couple that they had seen go up that morning. (I didn't realize how important this information would be to me later.)

They checked us in, put some bracelets on my arm, and I changed into my gown.

(Ben was my favorite, though. He was already pumped up, but they had told us that it would probably take a very long time. Trying to look ahead, he figured that he would do some homework... but he would need to take his ADD meds.... With the most sincere and calm look on his face he says: "I know it looks like I'm already excited on the outside, but it's no comparison to how I'm freaking out inside.")

Then we met with the most important man ever - the anesthesiologist. I immediately told him that I wanted any and all pain meds - as soon as possible. I'm a yellowed-belly chicken, after all. He assured me that they would take good care of me.

By eight o'clock, I had met my nurse, Rhonda, and gotten hooked up to the baby-ejecting juice. (There were a MILLION questions to answer!) I was so nervous to get hooked up to the IV, but it didn't hurt at all! (Needles are not my friend.) By eleven, I had made only a little progress. But hey, the contractions weren't that bad. In order to help things along, the doctor came in and broke my water. (Not enjoyable... maybe it's because I knew what they popper-thing looked like. Maybe it's because I felt like I had wet my pants. Either way, not my favorite part.)

And that's when things started to happen...

(Okay, baby's asleep. Got to go to bed while I can!)