Wherps!

{Zinnias from my walk with the babes today.}

So this is a post about what a big clueless dork I am.

As you may recall, I wrote a post asking for questions over a month ago. I made the comments on that post private, because other people did and it made sense {for reasons explained in the previously referenced post}. Since I have Blogger send me e-mails whenever someone comments on ye olde blog, I waited for the questions to pour into my inbox. None came, and none came, and none came, and I felt a little forlorn. No questions, not even out of courtesy or friendship or pity?

But no, not one. I contemplated whether I should call myself out for being pretentious enough to assume that people wonder anything about my life, or whether I should bluff it and answer pretend-asked questions {pathetic, I know}. Finally, last night as I was blogging because I just couldn't hold back the words that were in me, I had almost decided to pretend like the whole FAQ post hadn't happened at all. And then I saw it -- I had unmoderated comments waiting for my approval. I had gotten questions, and, dense as I occasionally prove myself to be, hadn't realized.

I apologize. I'm now getting my answers to your questions ready, and I'll start posting them next week. First up: the story behind Max's first name.

P.S. You better believe Christian made fun of me last night. "You clown," I believe, were his exact words. Christian also makes fun of me whenever I say "wherps," a deliberate mispronunciation of "whoops."

UPDATE: Christian wanted me to clarify that he's the one who came up with "wherps" -- it's not funny to make fun of the way someone pronounces something, but it is funny to make fun of someone who pronounces something the same way you pronounce it and act like they're crazy for doing so. When I say "wherps!" Christian is always quick to reply, "No. Nobody says that."

The Story of Our Yesterday

Prologue


My Maggiebaby was born with an extra thumb. Christian told me, after he had been to see our newly born babies and as I was being stitched up post-delivery, that our girl had a tiny extra digit. I thought he was kidding, but he told me that he "was strictly instructed not to make any jokes at this point," which was good advice.

It was never a big deal to us, this extra thumb -- we claimed our right as new parents to call our daughter perfect regardless, and meant that description with all our hearts. Since then I've smiled to myself whenever I hear soon-to-be mothers and fathers wish for ten fingers and ten toes. Um, how about eleven fingers?

Chapter 1


Christian and I put off having this little thumb dealt with. At first, perhaps, because she was such a tiny baby and we couldn't bear the thought of her going through surgery. After that point I blame exhaustion, and the fact that it was such a nothing issue for us. We made a few "what has three thumbs?" jokes, and planned to show what would be embarrassing pictures to her future boyfriends, but otherwise almost never thought of it. Eventually, though, we made an appointment to see a pediatric orthopedist, and then scheduled surgery to have that eleventh finger removed.

It was at this point I began to worry. My Maggiebaby under general anesthesia? My Maggiebaby not allowed to eat anything after midnight? I prayed to allay my fears, and did my best to have faith.

Chapter 2


The night before her surgery, we kept Maggie up extra late in the hope that she would sleep longer. In the early morning I listened closely for her sleepy voice, and ran in to give her a pacifier every time she stirred. At 8:00, however, she was definitely awake, and we still had an hour before we even needed to leave for the hospital. When she realized I wasn't going to feed her, I found it necessary to employ techniques I had learned from mothers with colicky babies, and we vacuumed the living room for 45 minutes. She did a good job in her car seat, and waited patiently while I checked us in and gave out our insurance information. At 10:30 they took us back to the waiting area where I changed her into the smallest hospital gown ever made. I prepared myself to keep her happy for another hour and a half until she was scheduled to go back for surgery.

Chapter 3


My Maggiebaby, who before yesterday I might have described as "a little fussy at times," has proved herself to be a champion among babies. The sweetest, the best-natured, the absolutely most patient baby. Maggie was not taken into surgery at 12:15. Maggie was taken into surgery at 3:00. Our doctor was delayed by an operation that took much longer than expected. And my darling girl, my adorable firstborn child, who usually waits no more than five hours between feedings, was miraculously content with her pacifier while we waited. She dozed for long periods of time on her pathetically small gurney, occasionally waking and wanting to be held, or to watch TV.

At one point, when my patience was wearing thin and she let out a weak little cry, I began sobbing to a sympathetic nurse about how she hadn't eaten for fifteen hours, and should we just give up and go home already? I'm not ashamed to admit, I think my baby is a better person than I am. She is amazing to me.

Chapter 4


The surgery, once begun, only lasted 15 minutes. She didn't even need an IV, and thank goodness -- I've had enough of baby IVs. I was told it was a simple procedure that went well. She has one stitch, which is dissolvable and should fall out on its own. The bandage on her hand, the doctor told me, could be taken off at home if we felt it was too tight. We could give her baby Tylenol if we thought she was in pain.

When I was allowed to go back to Recovery, she was in the arms of a comfortingly mothering nurse, sucking down her second bottle of Pedialyte. When I held her, she let me know just what she thought of the events of the day. All of the frustration and rage she had been holding back were now vented on me. She yelled until she suddenly fell asleep on my shoulder. I quietly packed us up, and as we were driving off the hospital campus, I cried again and said prayers of gratitude that the whole ordeal was over.

Epilogue


Maggie is doing well. She's been a little more sleepy than usual, I think is the biggest difference. Her hand seems a little sensitive when we pull it through the sleeves of her clothing, but she doesn't mind gnawing on the bandage when the urge to suck her thumb strikes. And now, ten fingers and ten toes -- that's what's important, right guys?

I'll Take Your Questions Now

I haven't posted in a month. Exactly, it's been one month since I last posted, and that is pathetic. One reason I've been a little slack is that I've been working on a new blog design for myself, which takes up all my blog-attention. Another reason is that if I ever sit down at the computer with the intention to blog, all that fills my mind are thoughts like "I should get the laundry started" {which, actually, I need to do today} and "I wish we had some doughnuts." I thought it might be helpful to me if you all let me know what you're interested in hearing about, and I could have a topic to focus my usually distracted brain on.

So, do you have any questions for me? Do you wonder how I make it through the day, what happens when both babies are hungry at once, or how we came up with Max's first name? Or maybe you have a question on a different topic -- my life with Christian, my religion, if I'll ever start up my Wishlist blog again. Ask away! I'll put together my answers, include some adorable pictures of the babes, and post them over the next few weeks.

P.S. I've made the comments private, so no one need feel embarrassed about asking me a question. Additionally, this means that if I get a humiliatingly small number of questions, I can supplement them without anyone knowing.

Testing Out Our New Camera

At my suggestion {read: insistence}, our family purchased its first camcorder earlier this week. I was worried that too many memories would pass by unrecorded, and that I would forget so much of my tiny babies' existence. I already regret not owning proof of Maggie's constant grunting, which she grew out of a couple weeks after coming home from the hospital, and which earned her the nickname "grumble monster."

As you can tell from the following video, I'm not really sure what I'm doing this first go-round, but on the other hand, there are some pretty cute shots of Maggie. {Maggie is my daughter, and I love her so much that I just want to carry her around in my pocket all day long.} Enjoy!

We Are a Happy Family

Christian and I are on our way down to Morehead City right now {I'm writing this post courtesy of Catherine's iPhone. Boy, does this keyboard take some getting use to}. Just three days after the twins were born, my SIL Elizabeth had her third baby. And while I delivered seven weeks early, Clark came right on time. Consequently, he's younger, but weighed a pound and a half heavier than both my babes combined at birth. I think Christian and I joked about little Clarkie being a tank a couple times too often for Elizabeth's comfort. {It was only because we were jealous of his chubbiness, LB.}

The purpose of our trip today is so we can be at Clark's blessing tomorrow. We would have gone in the morning, but 9:00 am church means we would have had to leave way early in the morning. We've never traveled more than 45 minutes in the car at one time before, so this is an adventure. Being together with family makes it worth it, even if this trip ends up being a screaming baby nightmare. Two hours down, and they've been sleeping peacefully so far. Cross your fingers the remaining hour goes by as easily and quietly for us!