Vignettes from the past 9 Months!

Hello Pensieve! I have missed you so much. Now that my first year with HSLDA is officially over with grades submitted, I feel I can finally unload all of my pictures guilt-free. It is has become a rather time consuming project with all of the buildup as we have adjusted to a new exciting life as a family of 4 now. This post is going to be pretty much all pictures. Stay tuned for a written post within the month. I need to recap all the has transpired since before Leo entered the world, beginning with a very special 2nd birthday.

Sophia the first party! The grandparents joined Stephen and I to craft an epic purple princess party for Aria as her last solo sha-bang before Leo came. We celebrated the actual day at MumMum & PopPop's house, and had the party the following weekend. As  the pictures will show...she was totally in her element.

My Nautical-Themed Shower for Baby Boy

Harvest 2017 and Bringing home the chickens!

First Year at Ballet Class

Leo's first days home & newborn shoot

Epic road trip to Georgia with a newborn to attend Jamie & Michael's wedding

Stephen's 27th Birthday (The whole family came together for one big group gift of a professional crusher-de-stemmer), Leo's Baptism, and that one day where there were about a billion birds visiting the trees in our backyard.

Leo's first Thanksgiving

Leo's first Christmas Season & our First at Canaan

New Years 2018 & Bolivar by Sean Rubin

The Many Faces of the ever-evolving Mr. Leopants

Miscellaneous Food

Valentine's (10 years together) Double Date

Snow Day

Leo's First solids, Our First Easter Egg Hunt, & Easter 2018

Auntie Lyssie & Uncle Megatron Festivities

Miscellaneous Everyday Hangs

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Dear New Moms, Let me be the one to tell you.

Mom life is the ultimate Spartan Race during the newborn stage, and this second time around still felt like my first obstacle course. Like even the transportation to get to the race was brutal. A huge struggle bus just arrived at my front door, rolled out a wheelchair for me to climb into, crept up a rickety ramp, and proceeded to break every speeding law as I was thrown to and fro while on board. Too much hyperbole? Ok Reeling it in.

Seriously though, where do the hours go? Every day for the first two months was a routine of wake up, survive, and wonder how it became nighttime again already, usually being so grateful that it was. Keeping a newborn alive for the first two months I feel is the hardest hurdle. It is just a blur of blank stares, spit up, diapers, sleeping while sitting up topless, wading through trash and dirty laundry, engorged boobs, etc. Then your baby smiles at you for the first time and it's the victorious ending to taking that leap. The rest of the race is what you trained for. When you see that first smile it's like both you and your baby wake up from a restless sleep. Birds are chirping; the sun is shining.

Before that moment came, as I crawled and collapsed into bed at 10pm, knowing I had to get up in two hours to once again feed Leo, some days I thought to myself, "Wow...I got nothing done today...but I am too exhausted to fix that." Goals become way less dreamy and ambitious than they used to be, and more just basic life reminders. Remember to eat while Aria eats. Remember to take a shower before bed. Remember to bring the breast pump up to bed with you so that you pump in the morning, because you know you will not do it if you have to get up at 4 a.m. and walk downstairs. For goodness sake, tackle one project you have on your ever expanding list. I give my friends with 4+ children so much credit. By credit I mean worship the ground you walk on, because I feel completely at capacity with my two. Somehow as my first baby became a big walking and talking 28 lbs of wild personality I completely forgot that she was this tiny, this helpless, and she had different parts! Not to mention, I still have her. Aria is still tiny, slightly less helpless, and now can eloquently communicate when she has utilized the time I spent nursing our new addition to draw with marker all over my blankets and pee on my floor.

Now that Leo is sleeping through the night, life is beginning to once again normalize, and I have begun the always progressive journey of putting myself back together. But man, the newborn stage, my hindsight image of myself is just this moving, crying, blob with udders. I rediscovered how  humbling that first phase is, and adding a two year old to the mix definitely leveled up this experience. It is crazy how time heals and fills in the cracks of that whack job postpartum slum. I am about to lay down some real honest perspective that I have recently been encouraged to share. 

Let me precursor by saying that I have completely and absolutely fallen in love with my son. I cannot wait to go get him when he wakes up from a nap. His dimples and deep voice just melt me to my very core. I yearn for our cuddle times in the morning and feel all out of sorts if I have not had them. I now know this new love for a little boy that is different than my relationship with Aria yet equally perfect and magical. But there are some things in the immediate days of my emotional journey following delivery that I was not prepared for, and I think many moms are afraid to voice out loud for fear of it being misunderstood.

During my pregnancy, as I have written about in previous posts, I was very fearful of how Aria was going to handle this new little life coming into our family unit. But in getting so caught up in those fears I did not take time to prepare myself for handling this new little life. I assumed all of my energy would need to go into nurturing her affection for him and it did not occur to me that I might not be ready to share my own.

Postpartum Depression manifests itself differently for all women, and for those blessed few may not happen at all. This is obviously my own personal journey and I share it only so that it may resonate with those who need it. For me, the first 2 weeks after coming home this time around were pure agony. Change was painful. Recovery was painful. Nursing was painful. My wrecked body was just shapes. I felt hideous. Separation from my firstborn for most of the day when I was used to spending every waking hour with her was jarring, full of guilt and loss. The flooding back of different hormones was terrifying and oftentimes left me with confusing feelings of loneliness, sadness, and sometimes even anger. I was not ready for any of it. Distracted by all of these raw emotions, I felt like I was missing out on bonding with my new baby, and that produced even more guilt. On one of the worst days I got in the shower when Stephen came home from work and just stood there and sobbed for twenty minutes. The worst part of all of it, was that I felt like telling anyone how I was feeling would make people think I did not love my new baby, or that I was a terrible mother. Now I have clarity.

I love being a mom. Every wonderful memory from the past two years with Aria completely made me push out the memories of my similarly difficult transition into motherhood when she was born. If the thought crossed my mind, experienced mothers were quick to tell me that my fears would immediately diminish the moment Leo entered our lives. That my heart would just grow and I would instantly and naturally adapt to being a mom of two, just as I did when I became a mom of one. Though this is true; and it did happen eventually, more than I ever imagined it would, that new mom transition is not as quick and easy as you remember it being when you're finally through it. It is another instance of God's absolute genius that we as mothers bare such incredible heartache for our children and remember only the sweetest moments when they are over.

I want to be the one to tell any new mom or new-mom-agains that it really does get sweeter and sweeter with time. We have been created to withstand heartache and pain and we have the resiliency to nurture life through it all. You can and will do this, and your children are going to be awesome because of your commitment and love. It is ok to cry because it is freakin' hard, but when you feel beat you really aren't. And what is coming is the best version of yourself yet. Here's to you, mommas.

Leopold Adam: “Brave Lion of the Earth”

Because this post is of utmost importance to me in preserving the memory, I am going to skip ahead and write out my birth story and then go back to all that came before and after it in more posts to follow. I am not one to go out of order if I can ever avoid it, but given how quickly time has been stealing away from me lately, I am prioritizing.

Leopold Adam Scarnato made his way into the world on October 11, 2017 at 9:52 in the morning, weighing in at 8lbs 15 ozs, measuring 19.5 inches long. The first hands to touch him were his daddy’s, and his sister was the first person to welcome him besides Stephen and myself. We are undone with love and humbled by the blessing of this sweet little boy joining our clan.

Dear Leo

My son, carrying you was my greatest adventure yet. Honestly, it took me to the utmost brink of insanity. One day when you are off doing triathlons, breaking grounds, and taking on the world I will kindly remind you that nothing will top doing life with an almost 9 lb baby. But, as I hold you in my arms and love you with all that I am, it is such an honor to have been the vessel that protected and nurtured your being until you were ready to breathe on your own. I know the Lord has great plans for you and nothing of priceless value ever comes easily or without cost. You arrived exactly when God decided you should, and you are adored so very much by all three of us.

Love you forever and ever,
Mommy

As always I had a plan. I was going to go into labor 2 weeks early just like I did with Aria. I was going to move back to Nassau county on October 1st, go into labor on October 2nd, and be back home in time for National Kale Day (First Wednesday of October - Look it up; it's a thing!) when I'd begin my recovery process and have almost a month behind me by the time Jamie and Michael's wedding rolled in on the 28th...in Georgia.
The 1st arrived. We packed up the car with the cord blood kit, hospital bag, and two car seats. I had my drafted email written to send my students when my water broke (because of course it was going to break at home like it did with Aria). I packed for only 3 days. I was in such incredible pain and could barely walk so everything was going to plan. We were so ready and so certain labor was imminent. Went to my doctor's appointment on Tuesday. Got a sono and found out Leo was already almost 8 pounds, his head in perfect position, and I was dilated 2 cms. Waddled out of the office confident I wouldn't be back there for another weekly checkup.

But I was. Twice.

My son continued to grow and burrow into the depths of my body, and I wondered if this pregnancy was possibly going to kill me. My in-laws were gracious and happy to have us stay with them in our old apartment for the extended time while we waited. With each passing day and each sleepless night I began to think he had set up camp and decided to hibernate for the winter. By October 10th, I was begging the nurse practitioner (Both of my doctors were delivering babies on my last visit. Winthrop had a very busy week.) for an induction.
"Can I schedule an induction?"
"I'd say so. You're a perfect candidate. Dr. Dolisi is going on vacation tomorrow but I will have Dr. Hanauer call you when she gets back, and you two can figure out a day that works for both of you."
"Do you think I could go in tonight before he leaves for vacation?"
Listen, I am generally extremely self and socially aware to the point that I agonize over things I said weeks ago wondering if it might have offended someone I was talking to. However, at this stage of pregnancy, logic and patience turned a corner somewhere, and I was somehow willing to suggest my doctor hold off on his well-deserved time off. In hindsight I am totally embarrassed.

I dreaded the idea of an induction, thinking to myself that putting more stress on my body, and possibly Leo's as well, in this condition was not going to be wise. I was just becoming more and more certain that he was not going to come out on his own. The pressure was surreal; my ligaments were screaming. And yet weeks went by after 2 cms with no progress. I felt desperate for relief, along with guilty and weak for feeling that way. I was up late the night of my last visit just totally freaking out. Sarah Miller was kind enough to reach out at 11 o'clock and talk to me for an hour about other options I had before committing to the induction. I am so grateful for her and for that talk because sometimes you just need someone to listen and bounce around stories of experience to remind you that in every case the baby really does come out. (LOL!) After getting off the phone with her I went to sleep with a new plan. I was waiting until the end of the week, trying castor oil first, and if that didn't work scheduling the induction for the following Monday when Dr. Dolisi came back from vacation (I was hoping for him because he delivered Aria.)

Four hours later I woke up in active labor.

Yup.

After weeks of 2 cms, NO contractions that I could feel even up until going to sleep at 12, and a resolute acceptance of inducing, Leo decided he'd up and get going. I did not know what was happening. My water didn't break but the contractions were getting steadily more painful. I woke up Stephen but hesitated to tell him to stay home from work because the last thing I wanted was to make him stay home for a false alarm. I didn't know what it was like to have contractions prior to labor and was worried we would get to the hospital and they'd send me back to deal for a bit longer. So, I thought I would try waiting a little to see if the contractions would get stronger and more frequent, or my water would break. We got in the shower and I labored. Real denial looks like shaving your legs in between 6 minute contractions. After another half hour I did what I thought was caving and told Stephen to bring me to the hospital. We met Grandpa Steve who was leaving for work at 5 on the way out. He and Stephen exchanged giddy sentiments and I angrily shouted that we needed to leave NOW.

By the time we got there contractions were intense and rapid. You never know what you will be like in labor. In both cases for me I discovered a zoned and focused creature inside that lies dormant for pretty much the rest of life. It is nice knowing she exists I suppose. In remembering those short hours of giving birth, I can only describe them as an out of body experience. A frustrating and agonizing arrival in car--stop and have contraction--give keys to attendant to park car, walk to the front doors--stop and have contraction--walk down the hallway to admittance, answer a bunch of questions they can get from my file--stop and have contraction--walk up to the desk inside Labor and Delivery, almost start crying as I ask the nurse if it could really be possible that they send me home--contraction--nurse reminds me to breath slowly and tells me no, it's definitely not possible, a blur of undressing and contracting and sitting and waiting and contracting, doctor comes in to check me. "Well I'm glad you decided to come in because your at 8 centimeters and fully effaced."

---

"Shut up. Are you serious? That's crazy!"
"Yes, it's crazy. Let's get you a room."
"Wait, does this mean I can't have an epidural?"
"We will do our very best. You have to be able to sit still for it."

If you are familiar with Aria's labor story, you will get a chuckle out of my change of heart on epidurals. Before experiencing childbirth I was so set on doing everything without drugs, but this time around I was absolutely terrified I would not have time for the drugs.
That last statement was all that zoned and focused labor creature needed to hear because for the next half hour I sat as still as I possibly could while I approached 9 cms and contracted every couple minutes. When my nurse came in she did a double take. "I had to check that I was in the right room! I can't believe you're 8 centimeters and so calm!" I wasn't calm. I needed drugs.

A bag of fluid and an epidural later my doctor arrived and had barely touched me for an exam when my water broke. She then determined that I was ready to push, which came as no surprise to me at that point. Stephen then asked her a question she told us afterwards she had never received in 30 years of practice. "Can I be the one to catch him?" The attending doctor seemed hesitant but my doctor said, "Yeah, I'm cool with it!" with a big smile on her face, so Stephen suited up with them for the quick twenty or so minutes of pushing. I'm not sure if it was because I had the epi for longer with Aria, because he came so fast, because he was bigger, or a combo of them all but pushing was entirely a new level of experience this time around. I won't go into details on that one, but Woah.

I was blessed with another beautiful soul this time around who was in to watch her first live birth as a nursing student. She switched places with Stephen for the final couple of pushes. And finally, after one last blurred moment of intensity, Stephen placed our son in my arms.

Having kept them updated via text Stephen went out to the waiting room to get Aria who had been busy coloring with her grandparents, Kailyn, Sal, and Gila & Oscar. I am told all he said as announcement was, 8 pounds 15 ozs!
I had been really nervous about this moment my entire pregnancy. We had decided early that we wanted Aria to be the first to meet Leo and that she would get her time with him by herself. But, I was not sure how she was going to react. We had done everything in our power to try and prep her for his arrival, but had never been sure how much she was comprehending. I feared she would be jealous and upset by the vision of mommy holding another baby.
However, like watching Stephen hold her for the first time, this was a moment with Aria that will be forever in my heart as a little piece of heaven.

With a nurse filming on Stephen's phone, Aria came toddling in holding Daddy's hand, and beamed when she saw me sitting on the bed. She climbed up and gazed down at him with adoring eyes and said "He has a hat! I want to hold him!" I was a puddle on the floor. It was clear that in however simple her own way was, she understood who this was, and she loved him.

So grateful to not be pregnant anymore, I was up out of bed as quickly as they would let me and thus began our new chapter as four.

There are no words to describe the pride and humility I feel as I look at the family God has given me. My incredible husband, our beautiful children.
I am in total awe of what God can create inside one woman in such a short amount of time. We have a son! This pregnancy journey drew me closer to my Savior because I needed to lean on him more than I ever have in my short life. It is not comfortable to admit the need for God and his grace. Trust and vulnerability do not come easily for me, and yet when I find myself most heartbroken, despairing, and exhausted He still somehow makes me whole and blesses me. When I look at what He has done and how beautiful the end and new beginning of each chapter of our story is, I revel at every conflict and trial that has brought us to where we stand. My family is my muchness, and I am so honored to be called 'mama' once again, this time by a little man cub.

Time for me to cringe again at the sight of me after giving birth, but for the sake of my boy and the memory of this moment, here we are in all of our swollen postpartum glory.