The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.~Rajneesh

So today I jumped onto the "blogging bandwagon."

I find this to be very necessary, since old fashioned journaling just doesn't cut it anymore. If I can find my journal, I can't find my pen. Usually one or the other is in the grip of 10 chubby little fingers, that are often times covered in something super sticky.

Two years ago I started this crazy journey toward motherhood. Andy and I felt that we were "as ready as we'd ever be." I can still remember the moment I looked down at the test and saw the positive results. I was in the company of my yellow lab, Watson. I looked at him and started screaming and crying and laughing (you know the deal). Andy was at work, so Watson got the brunt of my happiness. I cried in the shower and quickly got ready to go to a health fair for work. At the health fair I was smiling so wide I thought my cheeks were going to burst. I also thought that everyone who looked at me must have known I was 5 weeks pregnant...I mean "obviously." I told a few strangers to get it out there. I needed to share it with someone and refused to tell Andy over the phone. When the fair was over, I ran to the store to get a cute bib that said, "I love my daddy." (cheesy, but necessary). I wrapped it up along with the positive tests and sat on the couch for a few hours anxiously waiting for Andy to get home. When he finally got home and opened the test we hugged and kissed (maybe gave each other a high five) and then just sat in silence....for a very long time. I finally broke the silence with something like, "so we're going to be parents......"

I loved EVERY second of my pregnancy despite the 7months of intense morning/all day sickness. I believe I wore a pale shade of green quite well. Unlike my friend/co-worker (who was due a month before me), that managed to rock high heels almost her entire pregnancy, I started wearing flats and stretchy pants by the end of the first trimester. I believe 1/2 way through my second trimester people started asking if I was due "next week." This was very disturbing since I still had a trimester and a half left. I got some distinct characteristics from my mother-the ability to cry at the drop of a dime-whether it be happy tears, sad tears, tears over something because its so beautiful, proud tears, laughing hard tears, painful tears, etc. and a very short torso. Very short torsos and pregnancy do not mix very well. By the time summer came that led to the constant cookouts every weekend, I was a fixture at every buffet table. I would graze like a cow...somehow hoping if I ate one more cookie maybe James would decide to come out and meet us. This did not happen-I gained 55lbs, carried 41 weeks...got painfully induced, labored for 43 grueling hours...and finally delivered via c-section.

Andy and I decided to find out what we were having. Twenty weeks was long enough in our minds to wait for this surprise. We were convinced it was a girl. I have four nephews and figured my family was ready for a little girl. Andy on the other hand, was hopeful for his baby boy. We got to the appointment, nervous as can be, and waited for the news. I loved ultrasound days and had quite a lot of them. I am a higher risk candidate for pregnancy, so the doctors kept a close watch on my growing little bean. As scary as it was being labeled "high risk" I was thrilled to find out that this  meant I got to have bi-weekly ultrasounds. I'm as paranoid as they come, so having this two week check point kept my nerves somewhat at ease. Anyway, I still remember the moment the tech asked, "Do you want to know what you're having?" Both of us, eyes wide open, barely breathing, managed to shout out in unison, "YES!!!" "Well you're looking at his penis." This wasn't exactly how I had imagined it would happen, but it worked. I think I sat there, completely shocked, while Andy (I'm getting a bit teary even typing this) started shouting out, "BOY?! BOY?! IT'S A BOY?! WE'RE HAVING A BOY?! I'M GOING TO HAVE A SON?!" I think this memory might be one of my favorites along the way, and one I'll cherish forever. We looked at each other, with tears running down both our cheeks, and fell in love all over again.

We had already decided on baby names, so we left the appointment knowing that James Andrew McKenna was growing in my belly. James is a family name from both the McKenna's and from my family. We had agreed that we didn't want to do an Andrew Jr. because it would get too complicated. We went to Babies R Us and registered for our first baby items-all "boy" themed. Andy was in his glory.

My due date was June 30th but due to me being high risk, the doctors said that I could go as early as 5 months along. You can imagine my shock when June 30th came and went, and I was as preggo as ever.  Throughout the month of June, my Braxton Hicks contractions were pretty rough, but I officially started labor July 3rd. Although my contractions were all over the place, they were there and strong. I "early labored" in the company of family and friends and 3rd and 4th of July cookouts. They kept me entertained as my belly was cramping and James was getting ready to make his appearance. Andy and I decided it wouldn't be smart to attend the Plymouth firework festivities since I knew things could move quickly at any given moment. We watched the Boston fireworks on TV and I waddled back and forth out on the deck listening to the Halifax fireworks in the distance. By midnight, I was ready to get to the hospital.

Labor-no one ever truly prepares you for it. They tell you it hurts like nothing else, but until you actually experience labor, you don't really grasp what that means. For me, whose child was coming out sideways, it was Hell. I felt so tough through the first 12 hours. They gave me some sleeping medications and I slept through the night. I called my close friends in the morning and cheerfully said, "I'M IN LABOR LA LA LA." Little did I know that I was about to meet my enemy-Pitocin. They put that stuff in, and I became like the girl from the exorcist. My epidural did not work, I was feeling every catastrophic contraction. I kept locking eyes with Andy across the room. All I could do was glare since my mouth could not even form words. The nurses (who were so nice, but at the time seemed like enemies) kept rolling me from side to side. I had a death grip on the bed. I remember focusing on the whites of my knuckles. I distinctly remember saying, "He's coming out my butt-this can't be right!" Poor Andy. By 9a.m. on July 6th-yes, another 24 hours later, I had spiked a fever. Andy came to my bedside to put some cold cloths on my head. I looked at him with terror in my eyes and said, "I'm going to puke." Unable to react quickly enough, he grabbed a tiny basin and held it near my mouth. I proceeded to projectile vomit all over him and myself. This was the end...I was tapping out. They had officially left me for dead-or so I thought. Finally this adorable pixie looking doctor came in and said, "We are going to look at alternate methods-he doesn't seem to want to come out." At this point, my head was down near the floor and my feet were up in the air (the nurses were trying anything at this point-I think they said something about gravity helping in this position). I remember looking at the pixie through the space between my feet and shrieking with joy. NO MORE PITOCIN!

Within minutes I Andy and I were ready to go deliver the baby. I think I was so exhausted I was pretty much numb. I wish I had gotten pictures of Andy in his scrubs, but everything happened so quickly. Having a C-Section is quite a ride. The medical team was amazing. They were laughing and joking and made Andy and me feel so comfortable. My nerves were calmed completely. I remember feeling the intense pressure and the release of James from my body. Thinking of his first cry makes me cry all over again. He was here-in a minute or two I would meet my son for the first time. The unfortunate part of a C-Section is not getting to see him immediately. Andy rushed to the other side of the curtain to see him. When he came back, I remember seeing his watery eyes over his mask-'HE'S PERFECT! HE'S SO PERFECT! OMG ELIZABETH HE'S PERFECT!" (another memory to put on my all time favorite list). Andy brought James to me. Looking at that squishy little face for the first time is indescribable. There are no words. I had wondered and dreamed of what he would look like for almost 10 months and there he was. I could see him and touch him. I could close my eyes and picture his face perfectly. I had never been able to do that with anyone before in my life. That face was the one that, whenever I am feeling unhappy, stressed, exhausted, I can close my eyes and picture and feel instant relief. How perfect! He was my 8lb 10oz 21" miracle; My dream come true. At 12:10p.m. on July 6, 2009, my journey though motherhood had officially begun.

This is me holding James for the first time. Unfortunatley I was one of those women who had extreme shakes after delivery. I was holding on to him for dear life while my body was convulsing. After an hour of being in a heated blanket cacoon, I could finally hold him again.

I love this picture. The first of Andy and James together. Look at Andy's eyes. He was exhausted from watching me labor so long. :)

Here is the first family photo. I had secretly hoped I'd be one of those fabulous women that would look like a celebrity post-delivery. Not so much.

Welcome to fatherhood, Andy. 1st diaper change!

...and let the kisses begin. This poor child has probably gotten more kisses than any other baby. I can't help it. Sometimes I pin him down and kiss him so much he can't catch his breath. Mean-maybe, but I believe I've earned this privelege.

I think this is such a "new parent" pose. Whether its your first baby, or eleventh, the first few weeks consist of lots of "study sessions." Parents just sit, stare, study, and poke these new little beings. In return, your semi-cross eyed child stares back trying to memorize what ever blurs and sounds they can.

Tiny and fingers and toes-anything minature is adorable, but when its something you made? Its unreal!

Ready to hit the road. Let the fun begin!