Rowan Patrick Eulberg

6 days late but here's the post- Rowan Patrick arrived May 8, 2012 at 3:24 a.m. (that was fun) weighing 8 pounds, 9 ounces and measuring 20 inches long.  He's perfect, yummy and so chill.  An absolute angel. I have to wake him up to feed him- how did I get so lucky??!!

I had a very long labor but a short delivery.  I feel great, so great that Gay has threatened to get on the Greyhound bus because "I don't need her help."  No! Wait, Gay!  I'm putting on my pajamas and staying in them all day! Don't. Leave. Please.

So in wrapping this up, I'm the happiest girl alive and even having my cell phone stolen from my car during Mother's Day worship service won't ruin this euphoric feeling. 

And...I already want another one (baby, not another stolen phone incident).

Wahoooooooo!

I'm getting induced on Monday at 7:30am!  I don't know how I'm going to get any sleep this weekend.  Exciting times!

According to ultrasound today, Rowan weighs 8 and 1/2 pounds and has some cheeks.  I'm already so in love with this pudgy bundle of goodness, I can't imagine what is coming my way in just a short couple days. 

                                                                          40+ weeks

Life is good and there is much to be joyous about.

Going, going, almost gone

Today is my due date.  And I'm obvs not in labor.
If any of you believe in witchcraft and wizardry, cast a spell for me.
If any of you light candles, strike a match already.
Thanks a million.

                                              40 weeks

p.s.  I am happy to report (or brag, you choose) that I still have no stretch marks.  Eat your heart out.
        

The Last...Easter

I've been crying a lot.  Not cuz I have a billion extra hormones surging thru my body but because Hans is about to be an only child no more.  He's my first baby.  We've been thru so much together, I mean, Justin has been deployed or tdy for over half of his life and it has just been me and my little mancub.  We've put tens of THOUSANDS of miles on the vehicle together, stopped at our fair share of shady gas stations together, been dead sick all alone together, fussed at the dogs together, memorized Sirius Radio's 80's on 8 playlist and lyrics together...and now I'll have to split my attention between 2 babies. 

(Sidenote)
Gay has become concerned and intervened.  She's the one who told me that I need to stop calling Hans 'Baby Hans.' She also ordered and sent a book from Amazon (this is huge as Gay + interwebs = virus-filled CPU) entitled, "A Baby Is Coming To My House." I've been instructed to read this book daily to Hans.  I'm also getting the standard Gay voicemail guilt trip, "Joan, Baby Hansie deserves a whole lot. A whole lot.  He has a little soul."
(End Sidenote)

So, Hans, one day when you're reading up on your mother's blog (not that you or any other kid is gonna give a rip), please know that you're the moon of my life, I didn't know love or life before you, and you'll always be my sweet German baby.

The bloody end of my rope

There. I said it.

I'm 36+ weeks and I went to the commissary this morning and bought myself a bottle of castor oil and a few (5) fresh pineapples. 
Justin's going tdy tomorrow but do I care if I go into labor without him? Nope.
I'm at "that" stage where sleep at night is a joke and my hands are falling asleep constantly.
This kid, weighing in at 7 pounds, is head-down and determined to up my chances of becoming an avid Flomax pill-popper.
I'm making a lot of unnatural sounds, so much so that while cuddling (if you can even call it that when I'm the size I am) last night Justin said, "I'm starting to feel guilty for getting you pregnant."

Bottom line:  I'm ready to meet Rowan and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help him rear his precious head.
Advice gladly welcomed.

Rowan's comin' on up!

This past weekend was overwhelming. Our dear friends threw us an epic celebration which involved much food, beverage, the most beautiful cake ever, an industrial-sized bouncy house and gifts galore. (I love that military folk usually throw "family friendly" celebrations, as our husbands are never home and we need to GET OUT! of the house.)

And meet the heroes of the day:

Dulane is obvs on the left.  She is the most easy going military wife that I've ever met and she's always down for a girls night.  She co-hosted Rowan's shower and is 10 weeks pregnant to boot.  She's a trooper alright. I would do just about anything for this broad.

In the middle is Andrea- her hubs and Justin became entirely too close on their last deployment and when she and I hit it off...I mean we HIT. IT. OFF.  She's about as blunt as I am.  I love her and she took on planning Rowan's shower on top of working 50+ hour weeks and raising a 2 and 18 year old. 

On the right is my Julie.  She took me on as a friend during the roughest patch of my life last year and we keep each other planted in this God-forsaken town with our love of the beach, online shopping and fashion.  Her hubs is also gone all of the friggin' time and she managed to co-host this shindig with 4 year old twins and 2 year old in tow.

And here...is my cake:

Isn't it perfect?!?!  It matches Rowan's bedding- old-fashion nursery rhymes. 

And finally, the nursery.  Gay and Johnnie slaved away and here it is: (sans curtains, pics and decorations)

And one more for the road, me at 34 weeks. I'm officially getting "puffy" (as is well-shown in the pic)  and feeling exhausted by noon every day.  You know it's bad when I feel accomplished if:

1. Hans makes it out of his pajamas

2. The pooches get fed

3. We don't run out of toilet paper

4. The trash gets taken out on Thursday

(look at my hunka hunka hubs.  He didn't gain any sympathy weight during this pregnancy and is as buff as ever.  I don't know how he has resisted the load of crap I have in the pantry.)

Slooooooooow down

In the last few weeks I've begun nesting.  Really I've just been throwing away a mass of good quality items without remorse or even considering hauling it to Goodwill. And Justin gets real mad when I don't haul said quality items to Goodwill...so I've been nesting while he's at work. teehee. We have too much stuff in this crackerbox!

Last weekend we took our final roadtrip before Rowan's arrival to Ruidoso with friends.  It was relaxing and grand in that I didn't have to cook dinner every night. We (Justin) took Hans tubing at Winter Park and I got plenty of girl time in between chasing and putting 5 rugrats in time-out.  Sometimes I'm so thankful that God put me in a military lifestyle- I've made dear friends of all personalities and histories. We have a common bond and help each other out in ways "regular" women just don't get.  And although at times I wish I could live in the same city forever, down the road from Grandma and Grandpa and all of my old friends, I'm on an adventure that forces me to branch out, examine myself and open up to new opportunities and people.  And it has changed me for the better, thank the Lord for that.

On the Rowan homefront, I had a check-up a few days ago.  Turns out "things" are progressing and I am to start weekly visits from now on.  My midwife thinks that I'll deliver by 37-38 weeks...that's mid April aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!  When I called Justin and told him that my cervix is beginning to thin he said, "Oh boy. I think my cervix just thinned out a little bit."
What a clownshow. 
So I still have nothing done in the nursery.  Enter Gay and Johnnie.  They'll be here thru the weekend, Johnnie will start painting and Gay will start sewing.  And everything will be okay.  Because there's not much Gay can't do.  And I'm helpless, even still at 33, without Gay. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. Cuz I just did.