Ten Days of Micah

It's been just about a week and a half week since welcoming our little(?) Baby Micah into the world. And it's been awesome.
Really.
I mean, there's been recovery and sleep deprivation all that faaabulous stuff that comes with major surgery and a new bebe, but it's all been overshadowed and outshone by his chubby-cheeked, double-chinned presence. Thank goodness!

He arrived by planned c-section on Monday, Oct. 25, 2010. All 9 lbs 9 oz, and 22 inches of him. How that all fit inside of me, I will never know. So no fun labour drama to report here, unfortunately. The drama of Micah's arrival was allll in the preceding events. Just in case you want to hear about it, I'll write it out in blue. Blue for boys. I'll keep it brief. So, for all those out there who, like my sweet Darren, are really just here for the photos....you can skip past the story. ;)
I had not planned to have a c-section initially. In fact, I was pretty determined not to have to go through that ever again. However, my family doctor somehow forgot to request an operation record of my last c-section...and when I was referred to my obstetrician at 39 weeks prego, there was zero time to get it in.
Meaning: my obstetrician did not feel comfortable letting me labour and deliver naturally without knowing more about my previous operation.
She insisted on scheduling a c-section ASAP, before I went into any kind of spontaneous labour.... and IF the information came in time and checked out okay...THEN we could think about cancelling it. I would be lying if I said I was thrilled. In fact, I'd probably be a lot closer to the truth if I said I was devastated. Blech.
We had a Friday afternoon and a Monday morning to hope for the information to arrive. I did everything I could to make sure it came, fiercely determined that, at very least, it wouldn't be a lack of information that sent me to that OR.
And then. Sunday night rolled around and I realized that I hadn't even allowed myself to consider that maybe there was a reason for a scheduled c-section, that maybe Heavenly Father knew more about the situation than I did. So after getting my stubborn self out of the way, I felt peace about the c-section for the first time. And felt reassured that, either way, things would be okay.
Long story short: the information did arrive in time, no thanks to bureaucracy. But we decided to go ahead with the surgery anyways, mostly because it felt like the right thing to do. We marched into the surgery armed with the knowledge that I had, in fact chosen this and wasn't forced into it because of forgetful doctors and a lack of information. Somehow, it made it better.
The surgery went well and was ten hundred times more relaxed than my emergency one with Renae. It was complete with joking doctors and discussions of photography. More than once, as she was trying to yank a big baby out of me, my obstetrician made sure to let me know that she thought that a c-section had been a great idea. Roll my eyes. ...But I maybe do agree a little.


So that's that.
Renae's been a fabulous big sister so far...kissing Micah to smithereens and playing all sorts of games with him while he snoozes, oblivious to the riot she's having with him.

                        

Maybe someday we'll actually get a good one with his eyes open. Until then...

P.S. If you live around these parts and want to come hold and smell a sweet little babe...come on over!