Jude!

Last night I paced the floor of the room on the second story of my parents' house, the room that is full to the brim with sunshine in the morning and moon shadows at night. Two and a half years ago I paced the same floor with my first baby, then 15 months old. Holding him close, bouncing to a Nat King Cole song, hoping that the bouncing would work my calves out, and looking at the imprint of my feet in the carpet and wondering what it said of my posture. I think I would have laughed if I had been told that in two and a half years I would be back visiting doing the same thing with my third baby. My third boy two months old.

I've been writing a post more detailed about Jude's birth, but it has turned into a personal journal item, not really right for a blog open to all the Internet. So the short and sweet version:

My past labors were quick, but Jude beat them all by coming suddenly and furiously fast--at least that is how it felt to me. We had an appointment at the hospital that morning. Nothing seemed to be happening so my doctor didn't check me. We left at 12:30 p.m. By 2 p.m. we had driven out of town, turned around in pain-ridden near panic, raced back, and had a baby. No epidural, he came too fast. And although I love epidurals dearly, and the pain was crazy intense and scary I would do without an epidural next time too. If I'm brave enough.

I held and nuzzled Jude, then while he was being warmed, wrapped, and checked out I'm pretty sure I beamed at Luke, "we have a baby!" Sappy I know. You'd think we didn't already have two, but it feels just as exciting every time.

Luke held on to me and I was feeling very proud of myself. I had survived! The human body is an amazing thing. Our sweet baby Jude is-----AMAZING.

Jude Robert Christiansen, 7lbs. 12oz, 20 1/2 in. long. My biggest baby yet. I'm pretty awesome (I can say that now its over, during I'm pretty sure I was a mess of I-want-this-over-now-and-I'll-be-as-loud-as-I-want!).

Love, love, love him.