our dear friend Kristie of KP Studios came to the house when Hannie was 10 days old to take some photos of her. after a very poopy start Hannie settled down and the following images were captured.

Kristie did a fantastic job and was so sweet with Hannie. i can’t wait to have more photos taken of her!

dear Hanlon,

i am convinced that you will grow up having multiple personalities based on all of the nicknames we have for you. growing up i had one nickname which my parents (your Nana and Grampa) still call me. in fact, they have even addressed mail to me using that nickname. and no, i’m not telling you what it is. at the moment you are currently known as Baby Creature, Hannie Bananie, Squiggles, Squigs, Senorita Fussypants, Chipmunk and T-Rex.

no one tells you how incredibly hard having a newborn is. i think if they did Trojan condoms would be a Fortune 500 company. all the parenting classes in the world do not prepare you for the uncertainty of having a baby. everything with you has been trial and error and i can only thank my lucky stars that you will have no recollection of this time in your life. if you did i imagine that your daddy and i would go the way of Jose and Kitty Menendez. first it was the breastfeeding issues and the fact that my boobs could not keep up with your voracious appetite. then it was your hearing issues which i am convinced that you can hear, you just do not give a shit. and don’t get me started on the gas and fussiness. oh dear god, the endless crying from gas pains. there were nights when i wanted to “go out to get a pack of cigarettes”. there are two things that kept me from driving forks into my eyes and ears: my undying love for you and your father. his consoling and reassurance made it easier to handle what the three of us were going through. you’ll find out later that he is the calm one.

you are nothing like i envisioned. you are more beautiful than the baby i had dreamed of. every day you change just a little. your hands are always searching. i adore when you stare at me with those steel gray eyes. you drink in everything with those eyes. that is when you’re not passed out in your swingy seat. i’m sending a thank you note to the makers of your swing. it has saved us many a night when you were inconsolable and my back ached from walking the floor with you. at one point we moved the swing into the bed with us just so we could get some shut-eye. little battles, little wins.

as uncertain as having a baby can be there is one constant: our love for you. though we are exhausted and sometimes want to pull our hair out you are nothing if not amazing. you are a perfect blend of your father and i (my feet and your father’s everything else). i cannot wait to watch you grow into the adorable little girl i know you will be. adorable and one who knows that talking about poop in public is hilarious.

just a few minutes old and already contemplating world domination.

don’t let the bunny fool you, i am this adorable.

Hanlon does her best “Grampa On St. Patrick’s Day” impression.

you would think that all this kid does is sleep. i assure you, it’s not.

squishy knees! and little hands!

this is why we call her T-Rex.

on monday, march 9th i had spent the morning getting some extra sleep and tidying up the house. my last day of work was the previous friday and i had so many plans on how to spend the next week preparing the house for the arrival of The Manatee! i had an appointment with my OB at 2 p.m. in which i would discuss the possibility of inducing the following monday as it was a.) 2 days after my due date and b.) she would be on spring break with her kids that entire week. i took my time rolling out of bed (and by roll, i mean that in every literal sense possible. i was enormous and ALL belly.) and taking a nice long shower. because this would possibly be my last office visit before D-Day and because of the induction discussion i asked kevin to accompany me to the doctor. i picked him up from his office at 1 p.m. and joked to his boss i would have him back in an hour. you shouldn’t make promises you cannot keep.

kevin and i entered the elevator up to the OB’s office when i felt a “effervescent mist” of wetness. i turned to kevin and whispered “i think my water just broke”. he said “are you sure? maybe it’s just your mucus plug.” yes, ladies and gentlemen, my husband and i discuss the intimate details of my nether regions in graphic detail. we especially like to do this at the christmas dinner table. it makes passing of the cranberry sauce interesting. so there we were, i was leaking whatever onto my favorite pair of maternity jeans and creeping out the orderly riding the elevator with us. we reached the doctor’s office and i said to the receptionist in a hushed, yet excited voice “i have an appointment but i think my water broke in the elevator”. the receptionist calls the nurse and tells me to go ahead to the back. we are ushered into an exam room and i am asked to undress. before i can even put my feet in the stirrups my doctor says “oh yeah, your water definitely broke. i’m calling labor and delivery; you’re not going home today.” kevin and i exchange looks of horror, excitement, and surprise. after nine months of housing The Manatee! we were going to meet her!

cue the phone calls. kevin calls his parents and my parents as i put my clothes back on. i’m in a state of shock. this was actually happening. i then realize something: i haven’t packed thing one for the hospital. in fact, i had joked to my mom the night before that because i didn’t have a bag packed that The Manatee would come just to make me hustle. touche’ kiddo. i start making a mental list of things for kevin to get at the house as the nurse is explaining to us where to get checked in at labor and delivery. i have to ask three times which floor to go to.

labor and delivery is a crosswalk over and 2 floors down. we check in at the nurses station and are directed to the new wing of the hospital. on our way down the hallway we see kevin’s mom’s best friend. her daughter is on the same floor and is about to have a c-section. we wish her good luck and dash off to check in at the other nurses station. all the while my amniotic fluid is leaking exponentially. my head and my Hanes Her Way are swimming. i’m still making a mental list of things i need from the house.

our nurse, Janelle, is in her mid-40’s and is absolutely adorable. i want to skip through a meadow of wildflowers with her. right after i get a bath. she notes to us that our maternity suite is the largest on the floor. i believe her. our room is big enough to host ballroom competitions in and the view out of the windows is beautiful. it is 3 p.m. and the sky is painted with whispy clouds. janelle begins asking us all of the routine questions and starts my IV of saline and Pitocin. i make sure janelle knows that i am pro-drugs and would like to make it through this process as pain-free as possible. i am now all registered, draped, and cozy. i’m not feeling the contractions and think “this is pretty pleasant”. my parents arrive and kevin goes to the house, armed with a list of things to pack and a strict instruction to give cooper a big hug and kiss for me. while kevin is gone my parents and i chat and make phone calls to all the appropriate friends and family. everyone is on stand-by and eagerly waiting for our next update.

an hour or so later kevin arrives with the maternity bag. by this point it is 5 p.m. and the contractions are starting to get intense. janelle reminds me that i can ask for pain relief at any point but i decide i am not there yet. i think i waited all of 30 minutes and realize that yes, i am ready for that shot of Nubaine. in fact, i believe my words were “bring on the drugs!”. janelle administers Nubaine in my IV and i immediately feel a wave of warmth. all i can say in my drug haze is “i feel like Florida”. while the Nubaine took the edge off the contractions it makes me feel disconnected and dizzy. kevin tries to play a Family Guy dvd for me, but i wave it away in frustration. my family and best friends are chatting happily and the pain is making me want to strangle every one in the room. i grab kevin’s hand and whisper “i need something more”. ten minutes later the anesthesiologist arrives and begins prepping me for my epidural. i decide to name The Manatee! “Epidural Goldstein”.

things progress pretty quickly after the epidural. kevin and i were convinced we would labor until the next day, but around 11 p.m. i was dilated to nine centimeters. the night nurse, amy, began setting up the room for the delivery and i quickly began to hate the epidural. i was shivering so bad that my jaw was aching from being clenched. i became very nauseated and threw up all of the ice chips i had been gnawing on for the past five hours. at some point an oxygen mask was put on me.

around midnight it was time to push. i never felt such relief and such pressure in all my life. i was a champ at pushing through the count of 1-6, but around count 7 i became too tired to finish. nurse amy’s coaching voice became like nails on a chalkboard. i would be happy if i never had to hear “push push push push pushpushpushpushpush” again. because of the epidural i had no idea if i was even pushing properly. i just pretended to take a big poo. a big poo in front of strangers. the on-call doctor arrives in his brooks brothers shiny loafers and scrubs and dresses for the main event. this is it. i push five or so times and the doctor looks at me and says “you can continue pushing for another thirty minutes or i can make a little incision and she’ll be here now”. CUT ME DOC!

after one more push our daughter was born yelling at the top of her beautiful little lungs. at 12:23 a.m. on March 10th, Hanlon Elizabeth was finally here. she was placed on my chest and i just bawled. she was so gorgeous. while the doctor stitched me up and i was cleaned, Hanlon was bathed. kevin broke out the video camera and documented her first bath. the doctor tried talking to me but i just wanted to watch Hanlon’s first minutes of life. she weighed in at 7 pounds 3 ounces and 21 inches long. once she was clean and dressed they handed me the little girl who had bounced around in my belly for 39 weeks and 2 days. the little girl who got the hiccups every time i ate a meal. the little girl who made me crave milo’s burgers and brownie sundaes. the little girl kevin and i had tried so hard to get here. life began at this point.