The Picture Gallery

Have you noticed that most of my posts are pictures and, if I'm lucky, a few words? That's because I'm in a stage of motherhood that leaves me without the regular use of my hands, or at least the use of both hands at the same time. Topher eats often, and when he's not eating he's sleeping. When he's sleeping I have a choice to either sleep (which I try to do as often as possible), eat (which I try to do one-handed while he eats to save time), or shower (which is not a super high priority these days, because sleep).

Blogging comes after sleeping, eating, showering, and spending time with the other children. So expect several more posts of pictures until this little guy starts doing more than eating round the clock. And for the record, I'm totally okay with him eating all the time. I'm glad that he's eating and growing well and that I can help him with that.

Look! Daytime Clothes!

Also, this kid has seriously long arms and legs.

Dinosuars

Boys With Books

 Topher was a very unhappy boy until Peter started reading to him. The tears stopped quickly and another of our kids discovered the joy of reading.

Pretty Babies

A Giant Among Babies

Topher had his two-week checkup today, a few days early. Good news, he's growing well. He weighed 8lbs 11oz at birth and was 8lbs 3oz when we left the hospital. His doctor-imposed goal was to get back up to his birth weight by the time he was fourteen days old. As of today he weighs nine pounds.

At birth he was 20 inches long. He's now 22.5 inches long which puts him above the 99th percentile for height.

And his head circumference? Have no fear, he's following his siblings in the giant noggin department and is measuring at 39 cm, also above the 99th percentile.

It's nice to know that his round the clock nursing is paying off.

He Who Now Is Named

I'd like to introduce you to Christopher. 

Bryan really wants to call him Topher, so we're trying that out. 

His name ends in an er like his brothers, has a ph like his sisters, and a p like all his siblings. And it's Greek (like Peter and Phoebe) for bearer of Christ, which I think is a pretty awesome meaning. He is the only kid with more than two syllables in any name, which is why Topher is appealing to us. And he's the only kid to possibly go by a nickname. So he's following some of our rules while simultaneously breaking others.

His middle name is pretty special too, but since I don't use middle names on the blog, you'll just have to trust me. Or you can email or text me and I'll tell you what it is, I simply won't share it on social media.

We are really glad he has a name.

This Is the Story of a Boy

We've now had our sweet baby boy for a week. This is the first opportunity I've had to do more than post a quick picture. Here's a bit of his story.

A week past his due date I was given the option to carry on to 42 weeks or schedule an induction. I'd never been induced, never wanted to be induced, I like when the babies come on their own. But I felt like I should take them up on their offer, which caused a lot of internal confusion and questioning. Bryan gave me a blessing of comfort and counseled me to follow my instincts.

So I scheduled the induction.

It felt odd walking into the hospital without being in labor. Bryan and I arrived at 7:30 in the morning and by 10AM I was hooked up to pitocin. I was told that they would start me at a level two and bump me up every half hour. Eight was my magic number because once I hit that level my contractions were coming every two minutes.

I chose to have an epidural, which helped, sort of, after the intense pain passed from the anesthesiologist hitting a nerve in my leg while he administered the medicine.

After a little more than five hours of pitocin, I was at a six. The doctor was pleased with how things were progressing and said she'd be back in an hour to check me. That's when the contractions got stronger. A lot stronger. I told the nurse this and indicated the huge mountains showing up on the contraction monitor only to be informed that I couldn't really judge by the visual readings. No, I responded, but I could judge by what I was feeling.

In very short order I discovered that the epidural was going to one leg and not the other. The nurse had me roll onto my side to help shift the medicine. That's when the pain of the contractions really hit. I believe the nurse thought I was being dramatic as I was curled into a ball and having trouble breathing through the pain, after all the doctor had just checked and the baby wasn't ready to come.

Except he was.

I told the nurse several times that we were very close and finally said, "I need you to go get the doctor now," in a forceful tone. This was between ten and twenty minutes after the doctor had checked me, I wasn't looking at the clock and those are the time estimates I was given. The doctor came back and barely had her gloves on in time to catch our sweet boy. I wasn't kidding, I knew it was time. Since this was my fifth experience doing this I was surprised the nurse didn't believe I understood the process.

He let out a big, long wail and let us know right away that he won't have trouble being heard in our loud household.

Between the hit nerve and the numbing medicine going to one side, I didn't regain feeling in my right leg for more than twelve hours after he was born, which wasn't swell. Even then it took several more hours for me to walk correctly.

But thankfully all the stuff that went wrong had to do with me. Our sweet boy came out perfect. He was our biggest baby at 8lbs 11 oz and 20 inches long, though we think he wasn't completely stretched out since he's fairly tall. He is cuddly, a great eater, a good sleeper, and loves to play with his daddy. The kids adore him, especially Sophie who gives him as many kisses per day as she can get away with.

There's only one thing he's missing, and after reading this post perhaps you can guess what it is.

A name.

That's right, he's a week old and still doesn't have a name. We're stumped. I've had family and friends sending me lists of name suggestions, but none of them are his name. We have until Friday to make a decision, according to the record office at the hospital, so at least we have a deadline. Sophie was firm that we stick with Bob Anderson, until yesterday. That's when she announced that we should name him Lightsaber.

Today? Today she called him Starburst.

Don't worry, she won't have the final say.

Thank Goodness for Grandparents

We owe a giant thank you to my parents for their help for the last two weeks. They came out to help with the big kids while the baby was born. Since he was so late they were able to get nice and familiar with the routine before taking over. They went home today. We will miss them and loved having them here.

Thank you!

Everyone Wants to Hold the Baby