Welcome Paula

Dear Paula, 

    Here is a little story about how you joined our family. I hope you can read it someday and that it makes you feel loved, because you truly are.

   It was a Friday night--your "due date," in fact, and I was looking at the ends of my hair and thinking how dry they looked. I decided to put some mayonnaise on it, since I heard this was a legitimate remedy, and was rubbing it in when your dad came in the bathroom asking if I could come down to the basement and help him with one of his projects. He of course made fun of me for putting foodstuffs in my hair, but I still went down to help him anyway. 

   Afterward I was upstairs straightening things in the bedroom when I felt a familiar sensation in my belly where you were residing at the time--it reminded me of the early contractions I had with previous pregnancies. That made me think of one nurse's advice after the very speedy delivery of Mika: "If you ever have any more babies, you should come to the hospital as soon as you feel that first contraction."

    Then I remembered I still had mayonnaise in my hair. 

    I hopped in the shower to wash it out and dressed quickly, wondering if it really was hospital time or if wishful thinking had just caused me to imagine that contraction, it being my due date and all.

    But I kept having the same sensations, and as short and erratic and "not textbook" they were, there was something urgent about them so I finally told your dad a little after 10pm. Soon after, we were driving to the hospital, grateful my parents could be home with Ramona and Mika (although we didn't bother to wake them and tell them where we were going).

    At the hospital, the nurses did not seem to think you were in much of a hurry to come out. I was told to go for a walk right there on the labor and delivery floor, and that they would come in and check on me at about 2am.

    Well, you were out at 1:17am. I'm sure most of the building heard when it happened--I was howling like Tarzan as you made your descent, and by the time it was push-time I was vocalizing more like a maniacal Jane.

"Look, Ivy," I heard your dad say to me, pulling me out of labor-mode and into that beautiful moment of renewed motherhood. I opened my eyes and saw your perfect, purplish, 7 lb, 9 oz body emerge, and sighed with joy and relief. The doctor (who had arrived at about 1:15, giving him just enough time to pull some gloves on) handed you right to me and I got to hold you there on my chest and look you over, still in amazement at what had just occurred.

Your daddy got to hold you eventually as well--he is one proud papa.

 

 Here you are when I saw your eyes open for the first time:

And here you are again:

 

 

When the sun came up that morning--the first day of winter--a shimmering layer of frost had settled on the grass, trees and roofs, as if to welcome the new season.

Jii, Baachan, Ramona, and Mika came to meet you for the first time and helped you open your birthday presents. 

Below is a mommy-daughter portrait Baachan took of us. I am pretty sure I have my hospital gown on sideways, but at least there is no mayonnaise in my hair.

And here is an attempt at a family portrait before visiting time was over:

I was so happy to have our family all together for a while--but I also really enjoyed getting some exclusive Mommy + Paula time in the hospital room during our stay. You are such a delightful, cuddly little baby.

We also squeezed in some Mommy + Daddy + Paula time that evening, celebrating your birth with hospital dining at its finest (really, it was the best hospital food I've had).

 

 

You were scheduled to come home from the hospital on Sunday afternoon, but feeling that was too long to wait, Ramona and Mika requested another visit in the morning to come and see you again. They each got to hold you for the first time.

 

 

 

 

It's obvious that they are both so pleased to have you as their new little sister.

They were practically bouncing down the halls toward the elevator when it was finally time to strap you in your car seat and bring you home.

 

At home, your bassinet was awaiting your arrival, adorned with pink paper chains and pictures (thanks to Baachan and Ramona).

You haven't been with us long, but already you seem to fit right in. We hope you stay for a long, long time.

We love you, Paula Naomi!

Love,
Your Mommy