Sex and the Sippy Cup

 *vacuums this blog*

Hello you all! Howdy! How are ya?

I think when we last left off on this journey,way back in October 2015, I was talking about how happy I was but yet I wasn't willing to share EVERYTHING that could be attributed to this happiness. I know.. from a blogger's aspect this is probably death to a blog. But hell, as long as I own this domain name... it's going to be going. And evolving. (Even if I am not sharing everything)

Speaking of evolving... I can at least share this. This blog started as a way to express the trials and tribulations as a divorcee' trying to navigate single life in the Deep South's largest metropolis. Since then, I've dated..been hurt... loved again....gotten engaged... gotten married... bought a home... started a Phd program..passed my comprehensive exams... and now

I had a baby <3

(pictured: HubbyDude and GoGo having K-care time )

Yes, I had a child. It was the one thing I had doubts that I would ever do in my life. Not because I couldn't have children (although my chances at one time appeared slim to none) but because I didn't think I'd have a partner I'd want to share that with. I had resolved that by the age of 40.. if I was unmarried, I'd just adopt, strap the baby to my back, and travel the world. Move to London, and a bunch of other stuff... but all of that changed. And I am ok with that.

I had a difficult pregnancy. I was told by this wretched fetal maternal med doctor with no bedside manners (the doctor they send all high risk mothers to) that my child would probably be stillborn. But.. the devil is a liar and sometimes has MD at the end of their names. I believed in God and we had a team of people praying for us. At 36 years old, this was absolutely maddening. I went through so many emotions. I was too old. This was bad timing. I am defective (because of the news I got about  my daughter not growing properly in my womb). I had talked to several of my friends who had preemies and who were also around my same age... supporting me 

But God....

My daughter (who for the purpose of this blog we will call GoGo) was born almost 10 weeks early. Doctors told me I wasn't going to make it to term.. so I expected to delivery early. But not THAT ear.

Little one was. 1 lb. 12 oz. and could fit in the palm of my husband's hand. Frightening. I had been put on bed rest twice during this pregnancy. The first time was New Year's Eve.... The second time was on my husband's 35th birthday. Needless to say, all the plans we had got cancelled, including his 90s themed birthday party (Bummer). I was in hospital about 4 days when a rush of nurses and my OB entered my room at 12 midnight, yelling "MRS R! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WE have to deliver the baby!" Her heart rate had dropped and I was preparing for an emergency c-section. I had to wake my sleeping husband (who was home trying to prepare for work the next day) who rushed to the hospital in 15 minutes. At first, he was confused, thinking the baby would come later in the day. When I called back and said "NO DEAR! the baby is coming in the next HOUR" he got the picture. As he was on the way, I sent a text and said "Today is the day you meet your daughter" (Note: We found out the sex a while ago.. but I'll save that for another blog) By the time they rolled me out to the delivery room, my husband was standing there.. with a big old grin on his face....and I was nervous. I was shaking as they prepped me for the spinal... and as I became numb...my husband was holding my hand... and less than an hour later.. the neonatologist was bringing over my baby... who was pink and wrinkled like a piglet...and after asking what we were going to name her...whisked away to the NICU. I do not remember much after that...except waking up and seeing my Father strolling down the hallway as I was in recovery and eager to see and hear about his grand baby. He was thrilled....

And I was scared but relieved she was alive. My baby was hooked up to wires and was so tiny. When I finally got to see her the next day, I was a pool of tears next to her isolette, looking at her breathing very hard. But the neonatologist and the NICU team were fabulous, reassuring me that because she was breathing on her own, that was a VERY good sign... One day I cried.. and a chaplain came up to me. She didn't say a word.. simply took my hand and began to pray. I told her "I am not crying because I am sad. I am crying because I have joy. She is proof that God is able". The chaplain squeezed my hand, said a few words and walked away.

But as the weeks have progressed... so too has my GoGo. She filled out, becoming even more beautiful. She began to breath on her own and gained weight. She learned to feed from a bottle and is slowly learning to breastfeed. She's still in the NICU but we are counting down the weeks until she is home. Her shower (held after I delivered) has happened... we've decorated her nursery and gotten all the necessary supplies. Other than a manual on parenting (lol), we are prepared as much as we can be.

And trust me, the fact that I lost my mother last year only to become a mother this year... was not lost on me. My mother, prior to her death, had declared that I would have a baby next year. She was off by just a little bit.... but I am sure she had everything to do with this child. I am in tune with the fact that I had a daughter and not a son. I feel like it's just a continuation of my relationship with my own mother.... and yes, my daughter even looks like her too. It's scary! But beautiful...

Beyond anything I am grateful. I also think this journey into marriage and now motherhood has inspired a new focus of this blog. I hope you all will be along for the ride.



I am sure it'll be an adventure...