Boy Mom

A couple of months ago I guest posted over on Liz's blog Chasin' Mason for her Boy Moms series. I was so excited to be apart of her series because I love being a boy mom and find comfort and encouragement from connecting with other blogging boy moms.
So in case you missed it, I thought I would post it here as well:

"I'm 90% sure you are having a girl" said the ultrasound tech at my 20 week anatomy scan. I wasn't at all surprised. Over the last 16 weeks, I had worked myself up to be scared to death to have a girl. I am not at all into girly things and I really have no idea how to be a girl myself, so how in the world would I be able to raise a girl and give her the true girl experience? Because the universe works in funny ways and I was really terrified to have a girl, I was sure I was going to be blessed with a baby girl just to show me that I could raise a girl perfectly well and it would all work out. 

 We decided not to tell anyone yet since we weren't 100% sure. We were waiting to see what was going to happen at the follow up ultrasound at 24 weeks.The reason the ultrasound tech was only 90% certain was because she couldn't get a full, clear view of the genital area. I turned sides, walked around, and prayed my little heart out, but after 10+ minutes of trying, the tech moved on. She told us she didn't see any boy parts, and so was fairly certain it was a girl. I was so disappointed to not know for sure (after hyping myself up for months to find out). However luckily, she also wasn't able to get a good view of certain parts of the heart, so we had to make another appointment at 24 weeks. 

In the weeks following that first unsuccessful gender scan, I began wrapping my mind around what it would be like to have a little girl and tried to make a real effort to be positive for both myself and my boyfriend Mark. I also became obsessed with anatomy ultrasound pictures. I would study every one that would come up on my mommy forum app and I learned all the ways to tell boy or girl. I was determined to be prepared for my next ultrasound; I was not going to leave that office without knowing 100%! 

Being that this post is part of the Boy Moms series, I am sure you can guess what happened at our second scan, but since I am probably the most long-winded writer you will ever meet, I will finish the story. The first thing she asked was if we wanted to know the gender and with a resounding yes! she moved her little wand around and found the sweet spot. All my 'research' was completely worth it because within 2 seconds I knew what I was looking at. I didn't say anything though because I wanted Mark to hear it from the tech. Somehow the little person inside of me that I was hoping was a boy, but knew had to be a girl, was in fact, a BOY! I was elated, so overjoyed, and incredibly grateful to get the news that I wanted so badly to hear! I basked in that elation for a long time. Pregnancy was not my thing, but finally finding out that I was going to have a little boy helped me get through that last grueling 15 weeks. 

DIY gender reveal photos

As D-Day grew closer and closer, I began to conger up all sorts of crazy thoughts: namely... oh crap is this going to be one of those "be careful what you wish for" situations where my son is going to be a complete terror and eventual serial killer?!?! 

Well 2 years into his life and I am happy to report that he is not a serial killer (yet), but I can't say that I haven't used the word 'terror' to describe him once or twice ;) He embodies every sense of the 'BOY' label and I do very often have to remind myself "this is what I wished for", but I wouldn't have it any other way. As I am sitting here writing this, I am trying to imagine what life would be like if the ultrasound tech was right the first time. It's hard to speculate on something so arbitrary: maybe life would be drastically different, but maybe things would be quite the same. I find it hard to tell if I am making him be all boy, if it just comes naturally, or if it is some combination of the two. Whatever the reason having a boy is everything I ever imagined it to be and more. I love everything he loves and am really enjoying learning about all the 'boy' things I never really knew much about. Currently, that means sports, dinosaurs, and Ninja Turtles. His ninja moves are on point and he is really excelling in his baseball skills. 

 It is hard for me to put into words all that I love about having a boy, specifically my boy, so I will be brief and use (mostly) pictures:

1. His laughter!

2. His love for all things messy (Paints and Edible sensory play):

3. His fearless (Noodling):

4. His goofy and imaginative demeanor:

5. His need to always be involved:

6. His determination (which will probably be the death of me):

He has been a man on a mission since the day he was born. It all started with his Houdini skills in the swaddle:

Then, it turned into a need to explore everything (even if that meant tippy toes):

Then, it was his needed to do everything his daddy did: 

And now apparently it is his need to become a pilot:

He is a handful and a half, always on the go, but he also has a very endearing, lovey-dovey side. His new goodbye routine consists of saying 'kiss, hug, high five, and boom-boom (fist pump)', making you do them in order, and insisting on all four before you leave. He is a pretty fierce cuddler as well, although only when he is tired or hurt. And he gives the best tickles and raspberries in all the land.
 He is my everything and will always be my number one. Anyone that knows us can attest to the fact that he is 120% a momma's boy. Sometimes it can be overwhelming when I need a break, but really, to know that he thinks I am the coolest person in the entire world makes my life complete.  

Myles' Birth Story: Part II

 

If you missed Part I, check it out here.

   Part I ended as we were leaving for the hospital. We arrived at the hospital around 12:45am Tuesday, August 14th. Mark dropped me off at the emergency room entrance and went to park the car. A worker quickly brought a wheel chair over to me and started wheeling me to labor and delivery. On the way, I got to play 20 questions while trying to breathe through contractions and refrain from punching someone, anyone in the face. "How far along are you?" "Did your water break?" "Are you having contractions?" "How far apart are they?" "Do you like butter on your toast?" You know all the normal stuff. I quickly got checked in and put in a room. The attending nurse asked me all the same questions and also did an exam. She said I was 2 cm dilated and it seemed like my water had broke. Now from what I knew, I didn't think it was possible to not know that my water broke. I mean having water gush down my leg isn't a common occurrence in my life, so I think I would have noticed. I told her I didn't think it had happened, however I was not about to argue with her because I knew that if she thought my water was broken, real or not, I would be admitted. And so began my hospital stay...
    I got the IV put in, all the monitors hooked up, and she injected me with some lovely pain meds. I could still feel all the contractions, but the meds helped take the edge off a little bit. At this point it was around 2am and I decided to call my parents. I guess I could have been nice and waited, but come on "I'm about to have a baby!!!" Since I was only 2 cm still, I told them it wasn't a big rush and to just come whenever they got up. 
    The next five hours were pretty uneventful. Mark fell asleep in the pull out chair, while I just laid in the hospital bed trying to rest as best I could. I knew that I would need all the energy I could muster up as I was about to somehow squeeze a 7ish pound baby with a presumably huge noggin (I mean really look at Mark's Lima-bean-head) out of a 10cm hole! So although sleep was not an option for me...(come on "I'm about to have a baby!!!"), with the help of the pain meds, I was able to chill for a couple hours. Around 6am, I starting feeling the contractions in my back getting worse so I assumed the meds were starting to wear off. The nurse asked if I wanted an epidural. I was really scared to get the epidural done... I have an EXTREMELY sensitive body and was worried about how I would react to it. So I told her to hold off and give me one more dose of the pain meds. Once that wore off, I would decide if I wanted the epidural or not. 
   My mom, step-dad, and brother showed up around 7:30am. I was quite relieved to see them. I always feel more safe and at ease with my mom around; she looks out for me and my health issues. My step-dad always tells my mom to "cut the cord" in reference to our relationship, but who doesn't want to have someone in their life that instantly makes them feel like everything is going to be okay. 
   At this point I was beginning to wonder where my doctor was. When I first got admitted the on call doctor was not my doctor. I had a little bit of a freak out and may have expressed very politely that I needed my doctor because he was the only one going to deliver my baby. Luckily for the rest of the night/early morning I was preoccupied with managing contractions that I let that concern take a back seat. However as time wore on I was getting a little anxious about it, but I didn't want to be the annoying pregnant lady so I never asked about it.

     *A little side note about my doctor* 

I was VERY adamant about him being there for the delivery. When we first met he said that he is there for 90% of his patients' deliveries. I was okay with that as long as I wasn't in that 10%. I don't know how I would have handled him not being there. He is amazing at making you feel comfortable, safe, and in good hands. The first day I met him we were discussing my anxiety and medication and he said "I tried to take medication for depression/anxiety but then I couldn't get my &#*$ up!" Yes, he really said that! At first I was a little taken aback but the more I got to know him and vice versa, I quickly realized how perfect he was for me. In one of our conversations, I told him I was kind of depressed because it was summer and I wasn't able to do what I normally love to do: go to the beach. I explained that I did not like my pregnant body and did not feel comfortable being in a swimming suit in a public place. He responded with "F*#k them. Don't care about what they think. I don't like taking my shirt off at the pool, but then I look around and realize that there is always someone who looks worse than me." And you know what, I went to the pool that week! 

Needless to say I was going to do everything in my power to not go into labor when he was off. At my last visit with him around 37 weeks, I told him (in my toughest Mob Wives voice) "You better deliver my baby or I'm coming for you!" 
 

   Finally around 9am God blessed me with the presence of my doctor. He checked my progress and I was at 4cm :( I had only dilated 2cm in 8 hours! At that rate I wouldn't be having my baby for another 24 hours!! And at this point, I had been awake for 24 hours!!! And I hadn't eaten in 12 hours!!!! Pregnant ladies problems.. I tell ya... While being examined, the doctor also noticed that my water wasn't broke. So either my baby is a magician or my first nurse needs to go back to school... just saying. Really it was a good thing that my water wasn't broken yet because once he did it, things moved along a lot quicker than my previously calculated 24 hours ;)

   Around 10am, the meds were beginning to wear off, so I had to make my choice about the epidural. Going into the labor, I didn't have strong feelings either way about the epidural. I was definitely scared to get it, but I wasn't dead set against it or anything. I wasn't able to get another dose of the pain meds as two doses was the limit, so it was either epidural or nothing from there on out. Although I was very nervous about the pain of child birth (after having to watch my mom birth my younger brother when I was 11), I felt that if I had to do it unmedicated I could. However the question was did I want to... I mean I know I would have felt very proud and accomplished if I were able to say that I labored without medicine (BTW men and non-mothers, women who do this are truly amazing... no joke!), but the thing is would I be able to say that I enjoyed my labor. So I took the cowardly (lol) route and got the epidural. Mark was able to stay in the room with me to be my squeeze toy. Mark said he did not want to look because the needle was huge (thanks for keeping me calm!), but honestly it was a breeze. Now granted I was only living off of adrenaline at this point, so I'm not sure how much truth there is in any of my feelings then.

Enjoying my "yummy" apple juice

   Ahhh.. the epidural... ahhh... no feeling in my lower body... Kinda scary but so worth it. The pain was a little better, but the hunger sucked! It was around 11am when my family and Mark decided to go eat lunch in the cafeteria. So there I was all by myself STARVING and all I could get was apple juice. The worse part was Mark coming back raving about how surprised he was at the quality of the food there. :( Really... it was okay though because I knew in the very near future I would have every right in the world to yell at, squeeze, pinch, beat, etc. him while pushing our baby out. Luckily while they were gone, my bestie Katie came to keep me company. I was supposed to be getting checked my by doctor again after his lunch around 11:30, but he was being held up. It got to about 12:30 and I started to feel really bad (shaking, flushed, hot flashes, etc.) The nurse decided to check me since my doctor still hadn't come by yet. And lo and behold... I was 10cm! When the nurse said this, I instantly began balling... not tears.. more like raindrops coming from my eyes. It wasn't because I was scared of the pain or anything, I was just so scared and nervous about his health. He had been growing inside of me for 38 weeks and everything seemed fine from the check-ups and ultrasounds, but I never felt completely assured that he would be 100% healthy. Plus I had heard so many horror stories about umbilical cords cutting off breathing, fluid in the lungs, still births; so many things could go wrong and I was scared for that possibility. 

   At this time everyone had to leave, except Mark. We had decided before that we wanted to experience our baby's birth just the two of us. I know my mom was a little sad about this (I wanted her there, but I also agreed with Mark wanting it to be just us), but don't worry she wasn't far. My doctor loved how "crazy" my family was outside the room. There is also another picture where she is holding a cup up to the door to hear... She's the greatest!

   I started pushing right around 12:30pm. At first it was hard to know how hard I was pushing because I couldn't feel much down there. The nurse monitored me to know when I was contracting and  started having me push for 10 seconds, 3 times in a row for every contraction. Mark stayed right by my side helping the whole time. There were a couple of times I was so tired that I didn't want to push anymore and it felt like I wasn't making any progress, but Mark was very encouraging and surprisingly calm. The doctor came in and out a couple of times throughout the next hour and a half. At one point, he told me he could see his hair (black!) and asked if I wanted to reach down and touch it. I started to, but then I couldn't.. it freaked me out too much! He asked Mark if he wanted to see him coming out. We had discussed this before and Mark said he did NOT want to look because it would cause him to never want to venture down that way again lol. To my utter surprise, he actually said yes (childbirth does amazing things)! So technically Mark was the first to see our baby boy. 

 
    As the contractions grew stronger, it became more obvious to me when they were coming, so I started to push on my own. 1 hour and 45 minutes of pushing and 19 total hours of labor later and our world was changed forever at 2:14pm on August 14, 2012.

7 lbs 6 oz and 19 1/2 inches

   












    I could just stare at these pictures all day long. I can only be so happy and thankful of how truly blessed I was with this beautiful and healthy baby boy. I am so in love. I had a perfect labor.. Perfect! I loved it. If I could relive one thing over again in my life it would be the moment he came into this world. That feeling is so amazing and I couldn't be more satisfied with the process. The hospital, nurses, doctors, family, Mark; the overall experience is something I will look back so fondly upon for the rest of my life. 
    
    Next up.... the not to fond part... the worst part of the birth process for me....  

                                                                                                                           Postpartum

Myles' Birth Story Part I

   As some of you may know Myles was due to make his entrance into this world on August 22nd, 2012. Most babies are not actually born on their due date of course; it's just an estimate. I was 100% sure that my little one was going to be late. I had guessed he was going to come around the 27th. He seemed perfectly content right where he was all snuggled up in my tummy and to be honest I really wasn't in any pain or discomfort besides being ridiculously heat-stroke-style hot. On top of that, I was only slightly dilated to 1 cm at my 38 week appointment. I mean I was happy to have even just that little bit of progress, but I was told that you can be at 1-2 cm for weeks before you go into active labor. At that appointment, we also discussed the possibility of induction. It was nice to hear that I wouldn't go past 41 weeks, however I was not in the least bit happy about the idea of induction. Everything about induction does not sit right with me, so I was hoping I would be able to avoid it. I also heard from many people that most first pregnancies go past the due date. I remember thinking it's kind of like a Catch 22: I was certainly WAY over being pregnant, but not being pregnant anymore means...well.. the baby is born and ready to be taken care of 24/7... ish just got real... But I was so ready to meet him; the anticipation that had built up over those past 30 something weeks was no longer manageable and I was as ready as I would ever be, aka I had absolutely no clue what being a mom was going to take.

     Operation Get This Baby Out of Me began on Saturday August 11th. Well actually it began in the evening of August 11th for I had a date that afternoon that I was not about to miss! She goes by the name of Julia B. Not only does she have the coolest name in the world, she happens to be one of the coolest people in the world. It had been almost a whole year since I had seen her last so I made sure that my little fetus knew he would have to stay put for a couple hours. I had to drive about an hour to see her but I wasn't really concerned because like I said earlier there was no indication that he was coming anytime soon. And really nothing short of my water breaking in the car was going to keep me from my Julia. 

     We met where she was visiting in a Chicago suburb and decided to have lunch and walk around their little downtown area. (Funny how I remember exactly what I ate.... Preggo much?!?) After lunch we walked around checking out all the little shops and may or may not have stopped for some ice cream (for me) and fudge (for her). I had such a great time I almost forgot I was 38 weeks pregnant... you know besides the hot flashes, swollen feet, and all around beached whale feeling.

    After my hot afternoon date, I met Mark at the Boone County Fair for a not-as-hot evening date ;) We spent 2 1/2 hours walking, eating, more walking, visiting with family, more walking, a Ferris Wheel ride, and more walking. The sign to the Ferris Wheel had a big RED line crossing out a pregnant lady, but you know me, I live on the wild side! I tried hiding my belly when it was our turn to get on.. yea right.. but he let us on anyway..  I'm not going to lie I was a little scared (and so was Mark..haha). It felt way higher than it looked from the ground... and the rocking... eehhh.. I definitely could have done without that. But no worries, it did not make me go into labor. So I would say it is probably safe to take the No Preggos sign off of the ride (lol). By the end of the night, I was very achy and tired, and my back was hurting very badly. Just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse.... Mark confesses that he has no idea where his car is parked (mine was further away so he was going to drive me to it). We walked around for a least 30 minutes while Mark pretended to know what was going on. When we finally found it, we quickly realized that we weren't going anywhere anytime soon. The car was suck in their sad excuse of a parking lot. After what felt like hours later, I somehow managed to get home and very quickly passed out. 

*This is where I feel it is necessary to put in a disclaimer. If you don't want to read about all the fun bodily fluids, functions, and pain of childbirth I suggest you back out now, because it's about to get real*

 
     I woke up on Sunday August 12th feeling pretty well recovered and my back wasn't hurting as bad. When I went to use the bathroom, I discovered some blood on the toilet paper. My first thought was mucus plug; so I called my mom and started up my Google searches. I came to the conclusion that I most likely was losing my mucus plug. I wasn't 100% sure though so I decided that if I didn't stop bleeding after 24 hours that I would call my doctor just in case. I got a little excited that maybe this was the start of going into labor. While researching, I did find out that even if I had lost my mucus plug, it could still be weeks until I went into active labor. So I tried playing it cool.. TRIED... 
   We carried on with the day as planned and met family out for lunch for my mother's birthday. While at lunch my mom's cousin said "Wouldn't it be cool if they (my baby and mother) shared the same birthday." It's funny because even though I had just lost my mucus plug, I still felt so far removed from the fact that I was going to give birth to my son very soon. I thought there is no way I'm having him before his due date, let alone today, on my mother's birthday! Of course that didn't happen as the rest of the day went by VERY uneventfully. Even though I continued to bleed on/off that whole day, I had no other signs of labor. I wasn't having any contractions or any other pains. 

My brother and I at lunch

   Monday August 13th I woke up feeling fine. I was still bleeding a little, but it was very random and faint. Around 3pm I decided I felt good enough to go run some errands and pick up a couple of baby items that I bought from people online. When I was driving around, I started to get some light cramping in the stomach and back. It would come about every 5-10 minutes and last 10-15 seconds, but it wasn't anything too painful. It continued this way for the next couple of hours. On my way back home, I had to stop to get some toilet paper. When I was walking up to the store, I got an EXTREMELY painful "contraction" on the left side of my back. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I had to wait until it passed to finish walking into the store. At that point, I probably should have just turned around and drove home, but of course we had absolutely NOOO toilet paper in the house. It happened two more times while finding the paper and getting in line. As I was hunched over holding my back wearing a look of complete terror, the lady behind me said "I think you're about to have a baby. Why are you at the store?" Trying not to sound like my uterus was being pulled out of my vagina I said, "Uhh I needed toilet paper!" 
   I made it home with the toilet paper and by this point, the contractions were coming more consistently and getting stronger. Mark came home and I made dinner, hunching over the counter every time a contraction came. I made a suggestion to watch a movie while we ate thinking that it would help keep my mind off of the contractions. So we picked "Machine Gun Preacher" (really good movie BTW) and I somehow managed to make it through the whole three hours (I'll never understand the reason for a movie to be anything over 2 hours long). Throughout the movie, I tried tracking my contractions with apps on my phone. I ended up just getting annoyed because they didn't work how I wanted them to, so eventually I just gave up. Pretty much they were coming about every 3-5 minutes and lasting about 15-20 seconds. If you're reading this and have never given birth, you might be thinking Really.. that doesn't sound so bad... Let me just tell you that the 3-5 minute break is the shortest 3-5 minutes you will ever experience in your life and the 15-20+ seconds of a contraction is the longest 15-20+ seconds you will ever experience in your life... AND it doesn't ever stop! 
  
   The movie was over around midnight and I decided to give going to bed a try..... futile effort on my behalf as I quickly realized I am only a human and have no business pretending I would be able to fall asleep with the contractions coming so fast and strong. I was only in bed for maybe 15 minutes when I could no longer take the pain. I yelled to Mark that I needed to go to the hospital now! He asked me if I thought we should bring all of our stuff. I was in no condition to think straight and honestly didn't care at that point, so I just grabbed my bag (that had a couple of things in it already packed) and Myles' diaper bag (previously packed as well) and RAN to the car. I tried to play it cool with Mark and act like I didn't know if this was really it; if I was really about to have this baby. Little did he know, in my mind, I knew that there was absolutely NO way I was going back home without having him. The next time we drove home we would have a baby with us. I was going to the hospital and I was going to have our baby!

Come back for part II: 

                                                                           The Actual Birth... the good stuff

Pregnancy V: Babymoon and Birthday

       This is my last pregnancy post. If you have stuck it out thus far, thank you! I promise more fun stuff to come :) Again if you missed any of the previous, read them here, here, here, and here.  

      This last post is going to be a little different for me... very little writing and lots of pictures. This feels so wrong, but here goes... 
     We were originally going to take our babymoon during my work spring break, but the threat of a strike (and then an actual strike) put a damper on that plan. Honestly, I was kind of glad because I needed a real break from school; one in which I did nothing for a whole week but be huge and lazy! So we moved the trip to two days after I finished for the school year. I was 29 weeks when we went. Mark took me to my MOST favorite city ever: San Fransisco! I am in love with that city and the weather was perfect for a 7 month preggo!
 I was nervous for the flight being that I was so far along, but it actually wasn't bad at all. I waited until the last possible minute to get on the plane so I wasn't sitting longer than needed and made sure to get an aisle seat. I went to the bathroom and walked around a couple times and that was it. No problems at all and I was definitely grateful! Even though this was not my first time in the city, I was still blown away by its beauty and cultural flavor.

Day One:

 We arrived in San Fransisco in the early evening and picked up our hamster mobile, aka the Kia Soul. We found a hotel in downtown San Fran and headed out to explore and find a place for dinner. San Fran streets were a definite work out for my pregnant lady legs! Walking is a lot less scary than driving though... there were quite a few times I thought the car might just flip backwards trying to drive up those steep hills! We found a small Japanese restaurant in a cute neighborhood! After dinner, we explored some more before calling it a night.

Yummy.. food! (You'll see a lot of these pics.. I was preggo!)

Day Two:

All of day two was spent being typical San Fran tourists. We had breakfast outside, then walked around the piers for a couple hours. Then we took a sight-seeing trolly ride (totally recommend) all through San Fran. We ended the day with a nice stay in the business/shopping district.   

Prefect weather!!

Getting my Rosie on!

The trolly took us across the Golden Gate Bridge

 

 

Day Three:

I convinced Mark to take a trip south down Highway 1 to check out the 17-Mile Drive. If you end up in the bay area, this is a MUST. Even if you aren't a water person, you will be in awe of the beauty of the coastline on this drive. For me (a water lover), it is the most peaceful place I've ever been.

On our way to the 17-Mile Drive we stopped at a beach for some photo ops.

This does not even come close to doing it justice.. beauty in its simplest form.

 

Day Four:

This day was spent visiting friends and family in the area. I got to meet one of my late grandpa's brother's sons for the first time. We went to dinner and they graciously let us stay at their house for a night. I don't know why, but I don't have any pictures from this day :(

Days Five and Six: 

These two days were spent exploring areas we had on our list for moving to. We checked out a couple of houses in our price range to get an idea of what we could afford. We also drove around to get a feel for what the cities were like. We went to a couple of restaurants and a mall and got to stay at my favorite hotel chain Microtel (lol). Our last night there we had a date for our four year anniversary that was the week before. We had dinner, then went to a movie. We saw The Dictator.. not a very good date movie, but we like comedies the best.

And then of course we get to day seven.... the worst day of them all... going home day.. booo

As you can see, I'm not very happy here.

 I have about 5 other pictures of us eating and a couple...hundred of random people doing random things that Mark finds interesting enough to take pictures of everywhere we go. I'll spare you the pointlessness of a lesbian couple at dinner, a mailwoman on her delivery route, a couple getting married, two dogs tied up to a bench, wall decorations at the airport.. I could go on and on, but I'll end saying it was an awesome trip as our last as just the two of us.

                       My 27th(?) Birthday                                        

                                                                 ... I seriously don't know how old I am anymore

  Because I decided to have one huge shower for all our family and friends, I really wasn't able to visit and spend time with anyone for very long at my shower. So I asked my mom to help me coordinate a birthday party. It was about a month after my shower; I was 35 weeks and still miserably hot. Even still, it turned about to be exactly what I wanted/needed. 

It's pretty funny looking back at these pictures because for some reason I didn't think I was that big for 35 weeks!! HA.. Who was I kidding I am huge! And no Mark and I did NOT plan to match.. how creepy!

I can still see my feet!.. Although I may have been leaning forward a bit ;)

ICE CREAM CAKE... enough said!

And then my favorite pictures from the day.... these 4 pictures explain my mom and I perfectly.

Comparing bellies :)

My belly wins!!!

Trying to touch bellies and noses.... yea we weren't too successful because....

...we couldn't stop laughing... Totally my best friend!

 

Stay tuned for Myles Birth Story coming up next