* Everyone's assurance that I would just know when my contractions were real...they didn't really work out. I spent 5 nights thinking, "This is horrible. These are absolutely real. We need to leave for the hospital NOW!" Yet night after night, I was left increasingly sore and tired and with a baby still in my belly instead of my arms.
* Epidurals are truly a girl's best, best friend.
* Contrary to how fearful I was of a super drugged birth, I learned that Pitocin isn't always the enemy. In fact, a body can actually require it in order to progress beyond what was for us, a 4 centimeter road block.
* No matter how hard you try, you cannot look your best when your baby arrives. And although it's a nice idea, especially for the photo enthusiast such as myself, it is totally not the point. I wanted everything photographed. Well, everything but what was going on 'downstairs,' of course... :S I was determined to look beautiful in hospital photos. For about a week leading up to our due date I not only washed my hair daily, but styled it a couple of times per day. I was even caught in the middle of the night curling my hair between contractions. Several days into being a mama I found time to transfer all of our hospital photos from camera to computer. I was anxious to scroll through them and see what Brian had captured. My immediate response was disappointment when I saw that despite my dedication to a "photograph-able" appearance, I looked pret-ty bad by the time we entered the delivery room and documentation of the event I had so anticipated began. Then however, I looked past my hair and lack of make-up and I saw our faces as we met our baby for the first time. I was reminded of Sanders' bright, brand new eyes as he took in his world and learned the face of the mama whom he had only been able to hear for months. Each snapshot brought me back to the moment and suddenly my life's lens slid into focus. It was a new focus, a better focus, and I realized that my unkempt hair and 'naked' face suddenly seemed just right. I was a mama. My Mr. was a daddy. Together we had received everything for which we had hoped and prayed. Our gift had arrived. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and everything else was but wrapping paper, lying by, no longer the focus.
In some ways my world is so much bigger now because there's so much beyond myself. In reality though, it's so small.
My world is a 10 pound little someone named Sanders.