If you are just tuning in, well, I had a baby. The baby. A child cuter than 1000 youtubeable kittens. His name is Jude and he is a month old.
This was him at a week, when he was barely even five lbs. He came early and was tiny. 4 lbs and change. But strong and healthy. I could tell you about the labor, but really the best--and I mean best/worst--part was that it was totally cliche, straight out of a rom-com, screaming and projectile vomiting on the street and all the contruction workers next door on the roof peering over at me. Me screaming at Matt on the way to the hospital "DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!". Yelling at the strangers in the elevator who tried to tell me "it'll be ok"--pretty sure I yelled "shut the fuck up!" at them--but c'mon, people were holding the fucking door while I was screaming in pain. The guy who administered the epidural was named Ravi Shankar. The labor was very, very fast--maybe 5 hours? Which is to say he pretty much fell out.
He is strapped to me in his swaddling wrap right now. Sleeping and sigh and snorting.
It is funny if you think about what is written in the first month or two of this blog and then now. Now I am lady with two kids and a Suburu fulled up with baby seats making a living writing about Nicki Minaj and such and such. WHO KNEW?!