love story, part four



His Adventurous photoshoot matched his nursery….
Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

The newest chapter in the Hunter House has begun: parenthood. So far, it’s been a lot of sleeping, a lot of not-sleeping, a lot of poop, and an incredible amount of cuddling. We like it. Although, if someone offered me a million dollars or 8 hours of peaceful slumber, I’d take the sleep with no hesitation. Heck, if someone offered me that sleep on bed of legos, I’d probably still take it. And we have a baby who sleeps. A lot. I don’t know how those other people do it. They must have some kind of secret drug. All I have is espresso. Lots of espresso. MY BrAIn CuRRently FEelS LiKE THIS!!!!!! I digress.


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

We are now proud owners of a brand-new baby boy. And he’s very much perfect. We aren’t even biased. From what I can piece together about the day(s) of his arrival, it went something like this: (Sorry if this gets long. Feel free to just look at the pictures – that’s usually what I do when there are more than 5 words in a row.)


Babysaurus was long passed his expected day of arrival. So much so that I had given up on him coming on his own and was all ready for the medical kick-start to the process of baby extraction. Husband works normal business hours most days and is flexible with his schedule except for one night that week. (This was Wednesday night, March 6th.) I confidently told Husband there would be no baby, so to go to work. Which he did. Wouldn’t you know it, I started feeling icky soon after. The following are my text messages to him:

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2:45pm Me: “Sooo…..there’s a 50/50 shot I might want you to come back home tonight. I don’t know if things are picking up or if I’m just being extra whiny because I’m uncomfortable. Stay at work but keep your phone close”

3:15pm Me: “These are definitely contractions and they’re very uncomfortable but still not consistent. What does this mean?! They didn’t cover this part in the baby books!!! They said they would be like 10 minutes apart with moderate intensity and then increase. That is not the case here.”

3:16pm Me: “Okay. 70% sure I want you to come home. I don’t want to give you a false alarm and make you come home from work for nothing but I’m 60% sure I’m in labor. Or something that’s very painful. I’m going to take a bath now. Stay at work.”

4:00pm Me: “Ouch”

4:01pm Me: “Stay at work”

4:06pm Husband: “I’m coming home. No worries!”
Me: “Oh no!!! What if it’s just a false alarm?! I’ll feel like an idiot.”
Husband: “I’m good. I’m confident I’m doing the right thing.”
Me: “Only if you’re sure. Maybe I feel better now? I just don’t know!”
Husband: “Doesn’t matter. I’m coming home.”
Me: “Okay. Sorry. Thanks.”

4:30pm Me: “Can you pick up a pizza? I already called it in.”


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

So Husband came home with the pizza. At this point, I was having intense contractions every 2-3 minutes (the kind where I’d just lay on the floor in the fetal position) and was trying every trick in the book to take my mind off of it. In between laying on the floor sessions, we went on a walk, I ate the pizza, I bounced on my giant exercise ball, etc. I took a shower, put on make-up, did my hair, re-packed our bags (which had been un-packed when I needed underoos the week before), and made Husband bake the nurse cookies.

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father and son for the first time

Side story about the nurse cookies: I wanted to take cookies to the hospital for the staff so had made up cookie dough around week 35 (when they told me I was having a baby “any minute”) and frozen it so all we had to do was pop it in the oven and viola! Fresh cookies! After a week of frozen cookie dough calling his name, Husband broke down and ate the nurse cookies. So I made more. He ate those too. “Stop eating the nurse cookies!” came out of my mouth fairly often. 6 batches of cookies and 6 weeks later, they were finally used for their intended purpose.

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I made Husband’s favorite berry cake in cupcake form for Babysaurus. He was more interested in napping.

Anyway, after the cookies were baked and I had put on my most comfy pair of sweatpants, we were ready to go. I texted our doula to say “It’s baby time!” and to meet us at the hospital at about 9pm. Then a lot of hospital stuff happened and I was pretty much miserable and out of it but apparently not as out of it as I thought because no one believed me that I was in labor. I think it was the cookies that threw them off. We finally convinced them that I was having a baby at around 11:30pm and we got admitted and hooked up to all of the contraptions and IVs and stuff. Thankfully, the doula took notes of the event because I was mostly just dying of back pain and have no idea what was going on except that it was no fun. The initial plan was do the baby thing med-free (I’m only slightly granola about baby stuff) but zero progress was being made on the baby-having-front and a lot of progress was being made on the I-think-my-back-is-breaking-front. After a little round-table discussion by Husband and the doula and a lot of head-nodding by me, we decided to go with an epidural. One problem: I’m allergic to the pain medication they usually put in the cocktail. It took another hour for the medical staff to figure out if I could have one, what I could have, and whether or not it would help my back. Finally, a man with a halo (everyone kept calling him the anesthesiologist) came in and said some stuff and made me sign a paper. All the while I’m thinking, “blah-blah-blah. Really don’t care. Back hurts. Make it stop.” And he did. Immediately. I have no clue what kind of concoction they gave me, but I felt like Wonder Woman. I could form sentences, and make jokes, and stand up, and tell everyone to eat cookies.


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

I was able to relax enough for Babysaurus to make lots of progress but me relaxing also meant baby relaxing and his heart rate started dropping. Husband and I were unconcerned, but apparently we should have been because all of the people in scrubs became very worried and made me start doing all kinds of acrobatics in order to get my blood pressure back up and him perky again. From there on out, it was kind of a circus to figure out which position Baby liked and I got all kinds of tangled up in all of the tubes and wires. I was still unconcerned and calm, which drew a lot of attention from the nurses because they said usually parents are the first ones to freak out. I figured that wouldn’t help anybody, so there wasn’t much point. I was also just thinking, “well duh, of course my blood pressure and both of our heart rates are low: I’m no longer climbing the walls. Little dude is probably just trying to take a nap.” I could also stand up, which is also apparently unusual for someone with an epidural. Pretty sure it was because I got the weird drug, not the normal cocktail, but I’m claiming Superman skills.


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

Anyway, then lots more medical stuff happened and I started pushing and the room started filling up with people. They turned off the drugs (not my idea!!) and three hours later (Hollywood totally led me astray on that part-it does not take three measly pushes to have a baby. It takes hours. Jerks.) there were about 20 people in scrubs and still no baby. The clock was ticking: the OB (who was amazing and hilarious) said that Baby Hunter needed to come before 7:30am because that’s when her shift was up. At 7:30 on the dot, I was about ready to give myself a c-section with a rusty knife but Baby Hunter finally decided it was time and rocketed across the room to be caught by a very surprised doctor. At some point during the process, Husband had put on my favorite Pandora station (Duffy + Adele + Maroon 5 + Imagine Dragons = awesome). I had forgotten all about it until I realized the baby was born to “Moves Like Jagger”….


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

He weighed in at a whopping 10lbs, 4.4 oz (it’s the last .4 oz that really kill you), and 21 inches long. Naturally, there was lots of joking about my having given birth to a toddler, which sounded about right to me. The original plan was to have that initial family-bonding moment as soon as he was born, but stuff happens. Whatever. After both of us getting all cleaned up and being given a clean bill of health we got to be together as a family for the first time, and that was pretty darn special. I cried.

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Now he’s three weeks old and almost 11 lbs and we’ve given away all of the newborn clothes and diapers and love the little man more than humanly possible. Everything he does is so precious to us and we can sit for hours staring at him. (But without being as creepy as it sounds.)


Copyright Deirdre Lewis | Please do not copy, crop or edit in any way.

Welcome to the world, Babysaurus!

We cannot wait to see what kind of adventures you will have!

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Heading home from the hospital. The baby/carseat camouflage was unintentional.

All of the really lovely pictures were taken by Deidre Lewis at Pictures of Prose. (The ones that are not so lovely were taken with our iPhones) More can be seen on her website: She did hospital photos and came by the house for newborn photos, too. I can’t wait to see the rest of the pictures this week!

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week forty-one

week 41

week forty-one

This week has had lots of ups and downs.  On the down side, the cold/flu gunk is going around and I was lucky enough to catch it.  Hooray!  The upside is, it actually makes the uncomfortable-ness of pregnancy not so bad after all.  And in even better news, I saw an actual doctor this week for the first time and the appointment was flawless, Babysaurus was proclaimed “perfect” (and ginormous), I was encouraged to not have an induction until next week, and I left a very happy preggo.

highlight of the week: great appointment this week and I feel like I’ll make it through this last week happily.
things I miss the most about not being pregnant: margaritas.  I think that’s the most disappointing part of having a late baby: my countdown to margaritas had to be extended.  Just kidding.  Kind of.
things I love the most about being pregnant: the ridiculous amount of sympathy I get for being 41 weeks pregnant.  Everyone is horrified when they realize I still haven’t had this baby and all women look at me like they’re so glad this isn’t happening to them.
cravings: sushi.  Yummy!
things that make me sick: germs.  The cold/flu has solidly won this round.
symptoms: inconsistent contractions and fatness.  And by fatness, I mean I’m so swollen I’m not sure those things at the end of my legs can be classified as feet.
things I’m looking forward to: my parents are coming this weekend and I’m excited to have company!  And I get one more week of guilt-free milkshakes until Operation: Get That Six Pack Back.