Welcome to the world, Baby Sarah!

That's her name: Sarah Eloise Boss. It took us the better part of her first day of life to come up with the middle name — aagh! We're so indecisive! — but we're thrilled with it. And her.

The doctor had sent me to get some (fairly) routine tests at the hospital on the 17th: a quick ultrasound to make sure there was enough amniotic fluid to keep the baby comfortable, and an hour-long non-stress test to make sure baby and placenta were both okay. The ultrasound wasn't very positive — it showed low levels of amniotic fluid – and we didn't make it through the whole non-stress test because my OB called in the middle of it. The upshot of the whole thing is that I ended up with a c-section scheduled for that evening (and it would have been earlier in the day if I hadn't eaten a candy bar just before going in for the non-stress test). So instead of waiting around...and waiting...and waiting...and eventually being induced...I went back eight hours later and had a pretty okay time of it. The OR staff were all friendly and funny and uber-professional, and thanks to an extremely effective spinal block I didn't even realize they'd started the surgery until just before Sarah was out. (Hurrah for meds!)

She was born screaming — she has such a loud little cry! I got a quick glimpse of her before they took her over to clean her off and weigh her, and then when they brought her back to Scott the only thing I could think of was how beautiful she was. She had a little scrunched-up face and a pointy nose, and when her eyes were closed there was this perfect little wavy line that went under her eyelids and over the bridge of her nose. (It's already starting to disappear, and she's not a week old yet.) Lovely little mouth, lots of dark hair that sticks straight out after she's had a bath, long narrow feet and hands.

(Continued on Sunday the 28th)

We've been home for a week now, with my mom here to help, and we're starting to settle into something resembling a routine. Sarah's a hungry little kid. She was born hungry and nothing has changed, really — she just eats to the point of drowsiness and if we're lucky she falls asleep before she realizes that she's not eating any more. But because she eats so much, she sleeps quite well too. She's had three nights in a row of sleeping about five hours after her midnight feeding (which Scott's doing), and I've gotten enough sleep that I feel pretty good.

Bethie's doing reasonably well with her little sister. She's thrilled about the baby — wants to help with everything (and even tried to pick her up today, which was, you know, troubling but sweet) and walks around saying "Baby Saa! Baby Saa!" Sarah has even replaced Aunt Gigi as Beth's favorite person to "call" on her Elmo cell phone. On the other side of things, she's gotten quite clingy with all three of us, Grandma included, and the number of buddies in her crib entourage has grown from two to about five, with definite potential for more.

More about our happy little family to come. I've got to get some sleep before that 5:00 a.m. feeding rolls around.

D-Day

Here it is — my official due date — and for those of you who are curious, nothing is happening. No contractions, no further trips to the hospital, just an increasingly impatient pregnant lady who is now finding all sorts of projects to pick up while I'm waiting...and waiting....

We get enough phone calls from family members every day ("So...you're still pregnant?" "When's that baby coming?") that Scott is now sending both families a daily "BabyWatch 2007" e-mail. Sample (from the mid-day update 1-15-07):

• Baby: Holding Steady


• Contractions: Braxton Hicks contractions only (non-labor)


• Libby's Crankiness Meter: Med/High (Libby contributed to this rating)


• # of times Beth has said "Baby Out!" so far today: 3


• When Scott estimates baby will be born: April 27, 2007

Oh, he's funny, this guy. If we go as far as January 27th, he's going to have to rescale that crankiness meter.

Hi! I'm Elmo

You know it's a successful day with a toddler when she gets to become her favorite Sesame Street character. Hooray for the Center for Creative Play!

Amen to that!

Bethie is so eager to meet her new baby sister — as are we all. Tonight we took a field trip: dinner at Five Guys (she sang, "Hot dog! Fries!" in the back seat all the way down to Oakland) and then a walk through the hospital where the baby will be born. The highlight of the trip was either a) seeing an actual new baby in the lobby as his parents tried to figure out their new car seat, or b) watching the fish in the aquarium in one of the waiting rooms. We're not sure which. She got the point of the visit, though: on our way out of the parking lot, Scott asked her, "So where did we go tonight?" and she answered, "Hospital."

"And what's going to happen here?" he asked.

"Baby!"

Yeah, she gets it. She's been saying, "Baby, out!" for the last several days. I couldn't agree with her more. The baby's cradle and dresser are set up; the dozens of tiny fuzzy pink outfits are washed and folded and tucked away; Regina the frog princess is sitting on top of a basket of blankets waiting to welcome her new friend and drool buddy. There's a packed suitcase sitting downstairs so we can grab it on our way out the door, and a new dolly for Beth when she comes to visit the baby in the hospital. We're ready, for all intents and purposes. (We could be ready-er, like with the bathroom clean and the laundry folded and a trip to Trader Joe's for some easy-to-throw-together frozen meals. But we're doing pretty well.)

Beth is starting to be more opinionated, too. (I know this is a big surprise, given the parents that she has.) Yesterday Scott got her dressed for church and put on her suede flowered shoes. She wasn't impressed. "Black shoes!" she said.

"Go ask Mama," he told her. So she did.

"Which shoes do you want to wear, honey?" I asked.

"Black shoes!" So that was it.

Later at church, as someone was giving an unbearably long testimony, she decided she'd had enough. "Amen," she said. And, when he didn't stop: "Amen. Amen!"

I'm feeling just about the same way with the pregnancy. Enough! Let's get on with the next phase. Beth's ready to be a big sister — let's do this already!

Juice cup

Several years ago Scott gave me a huge (and I mean huge), hideous drink cup. I think it was part of a birthday present. It's truly just unimagineably monstrous. Shocking pink, with a lurid beach scene and "Summer Fun" written on the side. It's a barrel with a handle attached to it, and military-grade drinking options on the lid. Then he promptly lost the receipt, so he couldn't return it. The thing has been rattling around the house ever since, mostly because it's so awful that we just can't get rid of it. We tried to pawn it off on my Coke-loving dad — the guy who has a stash of larger-than-life drink containers in his truck for every conceivable occasion — when he was taking off on a sightseeing trip around the northeast, but even he wouldn't take it. Said it wouldn't fit in a cupholder. (C'mon. Does this thing really need a cupholder? Is it likely to spill? I don't think so.)

Beth found it today. She's just figuring out "big" and "little" and gets a real kick out of noticing the difference between the two, so this was right up her little alley. She carted the cup around for a good portion of the afternoon, and then announced this evening that it was a "juice cup."

"I don't think so," I told her. Juice makes her completely hyper, even though what she drinks is, technically, half juice and half water. We're trying to limit her intake. This wasn't going to do the trick.

"Apple juice cup," she replied. Mom! What are you thinking? This would be a perfect apple juice cup!