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He’s here!!!!!!!! :baby:
Nicolas Philippe arrived on July 30, 2008 at sharp noon. He joins older brother Samuel Lukas and his deliriously happy (and horribly sleep-deprived) parents.
Nicolas made his grand appearance without much fuss. Mom (moi, not really R. Federer… hah! :lol
began contractions at 6am local time, was in the hospital at 7am, was told she is at Station Minus 2. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of being in labor, that means baby is head down and on the way out. I had forgotten how bad contractions could be. Let’s just say it’s like you have such bad stomach cramps that you cannot stand, your legs buckle, you are out of breath, and you cannot sit either. You just wanna cry! Sheer misery.
After 8 months of boldly swearing that she was up to the challenge for a natural delivery, I begged for narcotics. I was just too chicken …. Not up for a challenge. The cruel nurse took about 5 hours to get the thing going. Okay, okay, it was 20 minutes but I swear, it felt like 5 hours!!! First, they got the wrong spot on the back. The second time, they got the right spot but my reflex was to push away and the needle slipped. I began to wonder if there was a hidden message that I should just not have the drugs. But I persisted
Uhm, epidural felt so good. After just an hour of pushing, little Nicolas arrived. All 3.3 kilos and 20 inches of him. Through my stupor, I looked to verify 10 fingers. Check. 10 toes. Check. All boy parts. CHECK! Looking very good
Then, the name tug of war began.
Husband: We’ll call him Roger, no?
Me: WHAT? That loser? Okay, if he won Wimbledon 6 times in a row, our son would be called Roger. But to name him after a loser that won only 5 times in a row ….. ? Nah. I like "Rafael" (Yeah sure, :lol Nah seriously, how about Nicolas? He got the beautiful Ms. Bruni. Sounds like a winner. Yeah! Allez Nicolas!
And that (in a slight deviation from the truth) is how Nicolas came to be. Philippe is in honour of his French born paternal grand father (just like Lukas was in honor of his maternal grand father).
As for me: I am done. Two kids and huge gross lumps of fat later, I am definitely done. I used to be 50 kilos. I ballooned to 68 kilos!!!! have never felt worse (or lumpier or more out of shape) in my life. UGH! I am fed up of wearing those loose fitting maternity clothes with bows and ribbons. I am now on the treadmill frequently. Spandex. Here I come!
Despite a dishevelled appearance, a LUMPY body, extreme sleep-deprivation, stacks of laundry to do every day, we are deliriously happy with our precious boys.
I recommend parenthood to everyone!
Love,
Jamie
ps. And now I have to go find the Wimbly final thread and suffer a bit ..... *sigh*
Nicolas Philippe arrived on July 30, 2008 at sharp noon. He joins older brother Samuel Lukas and his deliriously happy (and horribly sleep-deprived) parents.
Nicolas made his grand appearance without much fuss. Mom (moi, not really R. Federer… hah! :lol
began contractions at 6am local time, was in the hospital at 7am, was told she is at Station Minus 2. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of being in labor, that means baby is head down and on the way out. I had forgotten how bad contractions could be. Let’s just say it’s like you have such bad stomach cramps that you cannot stand, your legs buckle, you are out of breath, and you cannot sit either. You just wanna cry! Sheer misery. After 8 months of boldly swearing that she was up to the challenge for a natural delivery, I begged for narcotics. I was just too chicken …. Not up for a challenge. The cruel nurse took about 5 hours to get the thing going. Okay, okay, it was 20 minutes but I swear, it felt like 5 hours!!! First, they got the wrong spot on the back. The second time, they got the right spot but my reflex was to push away and the needle slipped. I began to wonder if there was a hidden message that I should just not have the drugs. But I persisted
Uhm, epidural felt so good. After just an hour of pushing, little Nicolas arrived. All 3.3 kilos and 20 inches of him. Through my stupor, I looked to verify 10 fingers. Check. 10 toes. Check. All boy parts. CHECK! Looking very good
Then, the name tug of war began.
Husband: We’ll call him Roger, no?
Me: WHAT? That loser? Okay, if he won Wimbledon 6 times in a row, our son would be called Roger. But to name him after a loser that won only 5 times in a row ….. ? Nah. I like "Rafael" (Yeah sure, :lol
Nah seriously, how about Nicolas? He got the beautiful Ms. Bruni. Sounds like a winner. Yeah! Allez Nicolas!And that (in a slight deviation from the truth) is how Nicolas came to be. Philippe is in honour of his French born paternal grand father (just like Lukas was in honor of his maternal grand father).
As for me: I am done. Two kids and huge gross lumps of fat later, I am definitely done. I used to be 50 kilos. I ballooned to 68 kilos!!!! have never felt worse (or lumpier or more out of shape) in my life. UGH! I am fed up of wearing those loose fitting maternity clothes with bows and ribbons. I am now on the treadmill frequently. Spandex. Here I come!
Despite a dishevelled appearance, a LUMPY body, extreme sleep-deprivation, stacks of laundry to do every day, we are deliriously happy with our precious boys.
I recommend parenthood to everyone!
Love,
Jamie
ps. And now I have to go find the Wimbly final thread and suffer a bit ..... *sigh*
