Three Weeks!

Dearest Sammie,

Today, you are officially three weeks. My, you're growing fast. Is it too early to ask you to stop growing up? I want you to be my little baby forever, but something tells me that you've still got a lot of changing to do. Maybe instead of asking you to stop growing up, I should instead get creative with my prayers and ask for a universal TiVo remote--that way all I have to do is hit the 'pause' button.

This past week has been a fun one for you. Last Friday, we took you to Dinuba to get your newborn photos done. I was hoping we'd get some of you awake, but the car ride over there pretty much lulled you into a deep sleep. You slept throughout the entire hour long photo shoot. As luck would have it, you woke up, literally, as the photographer put her camera down to check us out. Hmph.



I'm still waiting on the digital images, but I did manage to get a few a little early:




When I show your pictures off to people, they have one of two reactions: either they ooh and aww and tell me how beautiful you are, or they look me square in the eyes and tell me that I'd better get a shotgun because I'm going to have to shoo away the boys when you get a little bit older. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'll hold off on the shotgun for now. Maybe instead I can just invest in a laser fence around our yard so that all unapproved suiters will be kept far, far away. Hmmm...I'll add that to my wish list, right underneath the universal TiVo remote.

On Sunday, my friends Amy and Tamara, along with Aunt Erin, threw you your first baby shower. They put so much work into it, and everything looked amazing! The whole theme was ladybugs, and they tied you into it by calling you a little lovebug. I absolutely adored it!

Here we are with the awesome shower hostesses: Amy, Tamara & Aunt Erin.



Tamara made you the most adorable (and delicious) cake with a ladybug on top. Everyone oooh'd and ahh'd over it!



We had a wonderful time with Nonni's side of the family and came home with lots of fun things for you. You raked in the presents, girlie!


Plus, they had everyone bring diapers for a game we played. I am sooo grateful for these diapers--you and your bladder use diapers up like nobody's business, so all of these diapers will definitely be put to use quickly!

Two of the most wonderful things we got, however, were a bouncer (from Amy & Jimmy) and a swing (lent to us by my cousins Garth & Mary). Not only are they really, really cute, but they are really, really useful as they can lull you to sleep like nobody's business.

Roxy's a little confused by this magical swinging contraption, but you seem to like it just right.

Let's see...what else is new on the Sammie front? You're getting really close to smiling when you hear my voice. You sure are thinking about smiling, at least. You get a little bit of a half grin and then you go right back to looking perplexed and kicking your feet. On Sunday, Nonni predicted that you'd be smiling at my voice by the end of the week. We've still got a few days to go to prove her right. Will you do it?





Meanwhile, I've been trying to figure out what your baby announcements are going to look like. I know they're going to be pink and brown, and I know which pictures I want to use, but the question remains as to when I'll get them done. You see, as the days turn into weeks and you get a little older, you're also not sleeping during the day as much. Which means that you want to be held and entertained a little more than you were just last week. I think what I'm going to do is either bribe your father or one of your grandmothers so that they can ooh and aah over you while I scrapbook like a madwoman.


I know for a fact I won't be able to get the announcements done this upcoming week. I start teaching summer school on Monday. (Insert lots of tears and temper tantrums here). It's only for ten days, but it sure is going to be hard to tear myself away from you for that long. Hopefully, by next summer, your daddy's business will have picked up enough that I can stay home with you all summer long.


Fortunately, we do get to start off the week on a good note: your next baby shower (this time for Daddy's side of the family) is this Saturday morning. I'm sure we'll all have a great time. We're so blessed to have our family members all so close by!


Well, I should go. I desperately need to fix my hair so that I look halfway decent today. I think my (lack of) hairstyles these past few days has made your father snicker a little too much.



Tons and tons of hugs and kisses,
your mommy


PS. If you're wondering how I've managed to find the time to type all of this out, it's because you and your father are doing what you do best: you're sleeping.

Two Weeks! (Big Time Photo Overload Alert)

Dearest Samantha-Who-Brings-Us-Great-Joy,

Today, you turned two weeks old. Two weeks ago today, we were hanging out in the storage/conference room in the hospital and showing you off to the legions of family members who came to welcome you into the world. Part of me can't believe that you've been home for two weeks already and the other part of me feels like we've never had a life without you.

You, my darling, are quite the beautiful baby. And that's not just my opinion. That's also the opinion of your pediatrician, who told your Nonni this week that it was in her professional opinion as a pediatrician that you are one heck of a beautiful baby.

Here's a picture with you and Dr. Krogstad, who in my professional opinion as a mommy is a wonderful pediatrician. Of course, her telling your Nonni that you were professionally beautiful helps her rating a bit :-)

I know it's bad form, but I brag about you whenever I can. I can't help it--God's gifted me with you--the world's most perfect baby and I'd feel like I was cheating God if I didn't tell everyone just how truly awesome you are. You're still a relatively content baby. You're good with just sleeping in my arms or snuggling up next to daddy in the bed. If you're hungry, you'll cry, but as soon as that bottle hits your mouth you're a happy camper again. I love the look you give me when we wipe your mouth of leftover formula. I call it your "Whatcha talking about, Willis?" face. It's the same look that Arnold gave Willis on that 1980s TV show Different Strokes.

Here's the comparison:

I know. Even when you're angry you're still cuter than he is.

Iconic 1980s sitcoms aside, with each day you change a little bit. Developmentally, you're a little ahead of the curve. You're in the 75% percentile for height and weight, and have already gained enough to surpass your birth weight. As of two days ago, you weighed a whopping 8 pounds nine ounces. You go, girl!

Socially, you REALLY like your pacifier, and that's an understatement. That's like saying that I'm "a little short" or that the Pope is "a little Catholic." You've been going to town on your pacifier since the first night I held you in my arms in the hospital. You just get that thing in your mouth and give us your best Maggie Simpson impression with the loudest slurping noises.

I took this picture of you tonight when I took a brief break from typing this letter. It's not your favorite pacifier (you like the cutsie ones made by MAM), but gosh darnit if those little suckers aren't always disappearing on me. I don't know where they go! I know it's too early for the binky fairy to be paying visits...

Looking beyond your pacifier obsession, you're trying to get ahead of the game by raising your head as much as you can. You're just trying to take in all of your surroundings and I think raising your head up helps you to see the world beyond my shoulder. You're also trying to roll over. You got three quarters of the way there the other night on the changing table before I realized what was going on and put you back on your back. I know it sounds like I'm crazy--babies usually don't roll over at two weeks. But you, my Sammie, are one heck of a determined girl, and if I had left you to your own devices, you would have gotten your way and rolled that final 25%. Is it too early to notify Stanford and Harvard of your pending enrollment? Surely, you're a genius baby.

The big news of the week is that your little baby cord stump fell off today while I was giving you a bath. Ok, the truth of the matter is that it didn't really fall off. It needed some help. It was hanging by this little thread and as I was touching it it came off in my hands. Well, it didn't so much come off on its own as it did stay in my hand when I gently pulled it.


Then I realized. Nuts. I didn't really get any pictures of you with your cord stump on. Most of the pictures we've got are of your face (Have I mentioned how adorable you are? You would have done the same thing if you realized just how cute your face was).



So I rinsed you off, patted you dry and put you in your crib to take this fake shot of you with your cord stump (although at this point your cord had fallen off and it's merely resting on your belly).


Here's the (staged) shot of you with your cord:
And presto! Here you are without a cord and with the beginnings of an adorable liddle belly button (sorry--you make me talk baby talk even when I'm typing).




As you can see by the pictures, you weren't so happy about me putting you down so soon after your bath. I picked you up promptly after getting these pictures and carried you out to the garage to show your daddy. He wants to save the stump in a jar. Um, ew. No. We will not be doing that. Let's change the subject because stump preservations make me shudder.

Let's see...this past week has been a calmer week than last week. Last week, we were running around everywhere trying to do run errands and welcome visitors far and wide (your Uncle Tom jokes that the only thing missing was gold, frankincense and myrrh). This week, it's pretty much just the three of us. Well, technically the five of us, if you count Maynerd & Roxy.

And because we count the dogs as (slightly demoted) members of the family, it's the five of us. They're still trying to figure you out. Well, Maynerd's still trying to figure you out. If you fuss, he makes a beeline for underneath the bed. Roxy is still "Mama Roxy" and insists on being as close to you as I'll allow. She's even taken liberties and taken over some of your baby things.

Here's Roxy thinking that your Boppy is the perfect nap pillow:

All is not lost with the dogs, however. When you go in tomorrow to get your first *professional* pictures done, there the dogs will be, primped and ready for your big debut.

I called all over the place before deciding on the same photographer who took your Aunt Beth & Uncle Tom's wedding photos several weeks ago. She takes some good pictures, she's affordable ($150 for four different sessions throughout your first year), and the piece de resistance: she will give us the 'rights' to your pictures. This means a lot to this scrapbooking mommy who cringes as the thought of shelling out $30 for a four picture scrapbook page. 79 cents Costco prints will do just fine, thankyouverymuch.

I'm so excited about your pictures tomorrow. I've got a good idea of what kind of shots I want, but am willing to remain open to whatever the photographer suggests. I've already warned her, though, that I do NOT want Anne Geddes-type shots. Pictures of babies dressed as flowers and pieces of fruit really kind of freak me out.

What I do want are simple, classic pictures. I realize that the typical newborn pictures are taken au natural, but I do want some pictures where you're dressed because I want you to be able to proudly share these pictures with others when your older. While I think your baby butt is cute, I understand that modesty is very important when you're a teenager so I'll do you a favor and get some shots with you fully clothed.

That decision, to get pictures of you fully clothed, led us on our wildest goose chase yet. You'd think that with a two week old baby and literally a closet full of clothes (thank you Nonni, Aunt Beth and Grandma Max!), we'd have no problem finding the perfect clothes for your big professional photo debut.

Wrong. Very wrong. While the clothes you have ARE very cute, they've all got (adorable) designs on them. And I want something solid colored. Or denim, to match what daddy and I are wearing in the pictures. I searched high and low in Target and Babies R Us and came up empty handed each time.

So...last Saturday, your Aunt Beth and I decided to take you on your first real shopping trip. We went to the Tulare outlets in search of either a simple white dress, denim overalls or jeans fit for a newborn.

Here's you and me in front of the outlets.




And here's the three of us. You can tell that you were pretty tired out by this point.


I went to great lengths the night before the shopping excursion to meet up with your Poppa so we could borrow their stroller (I haven't had any of your baby showers yet so we don't yet have a stroller). That proved to be futile as you didn't spend much time in the stroller at all. We realized it was much easier (and more fun) to carry you and put the bags in the stroller. Which we did. And you didn't seem to mind one bit as Aunt Beth carried you from aisle to aisle, store to store. I'm telling you, Sammie, if shopping's your game, we're in for a world of trouble!

I went from shop to shop, anxious to find the all important white dress, denim overalls or baby jeans. I didn't find them. I got jeans and a denim jumper for you, hoping they might fit, but both items ended up being way too big. Maybe you can wear them for your 3 month shots?

When I set out to find such simple (non-adorned) baby items, I didn't realize I was asking for the moon to be re-hung because apparently they don't make baby clothes in solid colors. Store clerks looked at me like I was bonkers whenever I asked.

"Wouldn't you like this one with the flowers? Or this one with the embroidered little lady bug?"


No. I do NOT want the flowers or the embroidered little lady bug. They're both cute, I agree, but I want solid colors because we're taking pictures this week and I want you in something that's not going to look "soooo 2009" when you're looking at these pictures twenty years from now!

Hmph. Okay, so I sheepishly did get the one with the embroidered lady bug, but that's beside the point. I gave up on the Tulare outlets and ended up sending Auntie Tamara's husband Jeff on a trip to Wal-Mart to find a solid colored dress. He sent me twelve different pictures of dresses, and we ended up settling on a jean skirt and a dark pink dress. I'm highly amused that it was Jeff who found your newborn photo shoot clothes. God bless him for braving the newborn section of Wal-Mart for us!

Well, Sammie, I'm going to sign off now. You've fallen asleep on my shoulder and methinks you're ready to sleep for several hours. I won't brag about that thing you do every night--for about six or seven hours--because surely if I put it in writing I'll jinx us both and mommy REALLY likes her sleep. So I'm not going to talk about it. At all. (but you're really good at it and we're very grateful for it).

Love you more with each passing day,


your mommy

Getting More Adorable...One Week and Counting

Dearest Samantha,

Today, you are one week old. At this time last week, your daddy and I were sitting in a Madera Denny's, eating our eggs and pancakes and envisioning what life would be like with a child in our lives. Fifteen hours later...you answered our questions. In a word, being parents is AWESOME. Truly, I am in awe of you. I could stare and memorize your face for hours.

You are one of the most relaxed, content and ALERT babies I've ever met. From morning until evening, you're content just sleeping or staring into my eyes. You were so alert that I was finally got some good pictures of you the other day:




But here's my question, Sammie. Why the mood change during the 2-4AM? What happens during that time to make you fussy? If it's daddy's breath, I swear I'll make him keep mints by his bedside.


Crying aside, I'm not the only Mommy in the house. Roxy is mommy #2. She can't get enough of you, and must be lying or sitting by your crib allthetime. If you do fuss during the day (which is very rare), she whimpers and gives me this imploring look, as if she's saying "Um, hello? Woman--take care of this precious baby because I don't have opposable thumbs to do it myself." The other day, I walked into the bedroom to find this sight:

She didn't want to be in your crib; she just wanted to know you were OKAY. For safety's sake, though, we'll be shutting our bedroom door during naptime.

We officially introduced you to my students today at the 8th Annual Hammy Awards, held at John's Incredible Pizza. They were sooo excited to meet you, but I was sooo nervous to introduce you to all of my students at such a germ-infested place. I didn't want you to spend the whole evening getting over stimulated and over-germed, so we settled on a compromise and had Aunt Beth watch you for the evening, bringing you in for a brief visit with all of my students.

For the first time in YEARS, they were all quiet as I introduced you to them and told them all about how you came into our lives. This is no easy feat, Sammie, to quiet drama students!

Before you said goodbye, we got a few pictures:

With all of the students. Bummer that it's blurry because that would've been a great shot!

Here you are the day after the party in the Spam onesie you wore to match the seniors and mommy & daddy:

Lots of love,

your mommy

God is Good

Dearest Sammie,

I wrote that last post and forgot one very important detail. It was too important to add as a post note, so I'm giving it its own post.

Your testimony, little one, is already quite evident. I know I've written in the past about feeling God tugging on my heart to adopt, and how it took so long for me to listen to Him.

Once I listened, Sammie, things moved pretty quickly.

In the hospital, your birthmom's social worker told me that K* really felt like God was telling her that -we- were your parents. She listened, Sammie.

After meeting you, I knew you weren't an Emily. You were a Samantha. Your birthmom seemed to know this, too. She picked your name over Emily.

That night, I wrote a post about how all of us formed together to name you.

The next morning, I got on the computer and looked up the meaning of your name. As I'm sure you already know, Samantha means "Listens to God."

Isn't that the truth? All of us; you, your birthmom and daddy and I all listened to God. And you came to us--the daughter we were meant to have from before time began.

I was wrong when I said earlier that we named you. We didn't name you at all. God did. Because we listened to Him.

I love you more than I never knew possible,
Mommy

Home Free!

Dearest Samantha,

In about two hours we will have been home with you for an entire day. I gotta tell you kiddo, you are causing quite the commotion here! It's been a fairly consistant stream of visitors since you came home. The entire neighborhood was dying to meet you because your father was so excited that he's spent the last 24 hours telling everyone that he's ever known (literally) that you are here. Poor Aunt Beth had to send about a gazillion text messages announcing your arrival on his behalf! For the people that have come to visit, you've been quite nice, choosing to quietly sleep in their arms and make cute little baby noises.

Shortly after coming home, we whisked you away to go to your first doctor's appointment with Dr. Krogstad (who came in special to meet you--it was her afternoon off). Your Nonni was so anxious to show you off! Your appointment went well, you've lost 3 ounces since you were born. I think it'll start piling back on soon because you definitely are eating your weight in formula each day.

We did get some bummer news at the appointment. Dr. Krogstad doesn't feel comfortable with you being exposed to large groups of people; especially people who are around babies regularly. We had planned to take you to the Willis family reunion tomorrow (you will be 3 days old by then), but Dr. Krogstad gave that one the big thumbs down to that one because she's worried you'll get sick with all of the exposure that could be involved if you were passed from person to person. We think we'll do the compromise the doctor suggested and introduce you to a smaller group at the reunion, really only showing you off to the Aunts, Uncles & Great Grandparents.

But that's tomorrow. Let's talk about last night. Sammie--you really are super baby. You let mommy and daddy sleep for a whole four and a half hours before crying to be fed. Fifteen minutes later, you were burped, changed and back in bed. You did wake up for a few minutes because you had become unswaddled, but after getting that fixed you were back in business and back to sleep. I did try to let you sleep in our bed earlier in the morning, but I don't know we'll be able to do that again. I woke up with every little move you made!

As I'm writing this, you've just finished sleeping in your crib for the first time and you slept...well, like a baby. Pardon the pun darling, just couldn't think of anything else to say. Roxy, I think, seems to know when she needs to be my "ears." She heard you quietly fussing and rushed to be with you in the nursery. I think I'll try my hand at keeping my eyes out for Roxy when you're in the nursery. If she perks up and goes into the nursery, I'll know that I will need to check on you.

Your Nonni's been awesome. She's stayed with us and is really helping make the transition so much easier. Poppa came by to visit (and pick up his other love: the cell phone he left behind last night). He's holding you now and feeding you.

Yep, Sammie, there's going to be some serious fights coming up soon. Everyone wants a piece of the Sammie action!

Well, I think that's about everything up to this point. I'm going to go back to holding you and loving you all over. Continue to be good for your mommy!

Lots of love,

-mommy

The Night You Were Born.

Dear Samantha,

You were born today: Thursday, May 21. At 12:02AM, you made your entrance into the world. It's amazing how you have already completely changed my life. You made me a mom. You made your father a dad. And today you gave your grandparents their title and I don't think they could be any prouder.

I realize that someday, I'm going to forget a lot of the little details of what went on today, so I'm going to try my best to write down as much as I can. Full disclosure: I've had all of two hours of sleep in the past 48 hours and my brain might not be all there right now. And did I mention that I'm on cloud 9? Yeah--my feet haven't touched the floor since I laid eyes on you.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. After writing the last post, your father, Nonni and I beelined for the hospital, where we were told that the security guard would let us into a separate delivery room to wait for your arrival. That didn't happen. There was a little bit of a mixup, and the three of us ended up waiting for forty minutes in the hospital lobby.

It was the longest forty minutes of my life.

Finally, the security guard got the phone call that it was ok for us to go back into the labor and delivery area. We were quickly met by a nurse, who made an off the cuff comment about YOU being HERE.

My thought process went something like this: Um. Stop the train. YOU'RE HERE?!?! As in--there's a baby waiting for me to be their mommy?

The world kind of slowed down at that point. We walked into the room, and there you were, in a hospital bassinet and surrounded by nurses. I didn't waste any time:

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl. What's her name?"

I swear, kiddo, my brain stopped at that moment. I shrieked and put my hands to my mouth and started bawling. "Emily Joy," I whispered.

And I knew as I said it that you weren't an Emily.

The next few moments flew by, as the three of us took turns holding you while the nurses looked excitedly on the scene that was unfolding before them.

Soon, we had a visitor: your birthmom's sister (your birth-aunt). I gotta say it; I love your birth aunt. She was one of the most kind and down to earth people I've ever met. She was excited to meet us and was so happy to see just how happy you were making us. She let us know that your birthmom wanted us to write down our names so she could make a decision.

We jotted down six names; three for each gender (your birthmom wasn't sure if she was ready to hear that you were a boy or a girl yet). A few minutes later, your birth aunt returned to the room with "Samantha Grace" circled and a note from your birthmom saying that whatever we picked was okay.

I looked at your father, and without saying a word we knew what your name was. It's Samantha Joy, and as I looked at you today I couldn't think of any other name to call you. It's almost as if you, your birthmom and your daddy and I pow-wowed together and named you.

And Samantha, you are the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.

I spent the night with you, waiting in a conference/storage room. You were anxious to eat; and amazed everyone by how quickly you downed 2 ounces of milk. Apparently you were hungry!

I held you for six straight hours, putting you down only when I had to because the nurses needed to do a check up. We spent the entire time just looking at each other, memorizing each other's faces.

I did manage to find the strength to read "Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born," but admittedly some of the words were mere squeaks because I was crying tears of joy as I read the pages (in fact, as I type this several hours later I'm tearing up all over again). I sang happy birthday to you (again, more tears of joy).

And I told you I loved you, little one. I now know what it means when mothers say that to have a child is to know the experience of having your heart outside of your body.

In the morning, your father joined me in the makeshift "adoption" room and we watched you get your first check up from your birthmom's doctor: Dr. Gorman. He told us a little more of your delivery (how you weren't coming at all, but then *wham* labor hit hard and you didn't waste any time getting here--the wham was later explained by your birthmom's social worker; she didn't start really laboring until the two women prayed together). He also said that you were remarkably healthy and that your Apgar score was a 9/9. That's as high as it gets, little one; you're an over achiever already!

After your father got to feed you, I reluctantly turned you over to the amazing nurses and went back to the hotel to get some much-needed sleep. Two hours later, I awoke to find your Nonni proudly showing me what she had bought you that morning.

By this point, your Poppa joined us and we all went down to the hospital to see you again. Your Poppa was so anxious to meet you that I don't think I could have wheeled you out fast enough!

The afternoon was just the three of us. The Vogts. Sarah, Jay and Sammie. I like the sound of that. It works. We spent the time just holding you, feeding you and watching you be you.

Later in the afternoon, guests came in droves. The first to arrive was your Aunt Erin & Uncle Grant. They ooh-ed and aah-ed and remarked at how cute you are (by the way, for a newborn, you are a drop dead gorgeous baby...no old man face here!). Soon, Grandma Max & Aunt Beth came (along with most of the contents of Babies R Us). It wasn't long before the cozy make shift room became an all out papparazi infestation. Cameras were going off all over the place!

And you were remarkably patient about it. Really, you only fussed when your swaddling came undone.

Somewhere in there, your birthmom's social worker came in and took me out to the hallway to talk a little more about some of the details surrounding your adoption. Your birthmom knew in her heart, Samantha, that you were always meant to be ours. She knew from the moment she laid eyes on our profile that we were to be the parents of the child she was carrying. She loved that we had pictures of the nursery along with candid shots of our day to day lives.

The social worker, Dianna, reminded me that the birthmom was very artistic (always sewing or putting together crafts or an art project) and loved that I've got a bit of a creative streak in me. She liked that I decorate cakes and make scrapbooks in my spare time, and loved that I am a drama teacher.

Diana told me a few more details, but honestly, I'm having a hard time remembering all of them. We spent some time going over the adoption plan; for now, we're to send updates and pictures every other month. In time, we hope to expand that to visits, but we'll take things as they go.

The *big* news had already been delivered, though: your birthmom officially named us as your parents shortly after being discharged. This means, Sammie, that you are officially Samantha Joy Vogt. You are our daughter.

And I love you more than you'll ever know. We've got a lifetime to get to know each other, and I, for one, am looking forward to every single moment. For now, this busy evening is coming to an end and the hotel bed is really calling me. Tomorrow, we get to pick you up from the hospital and, after we stop by the adoption agency to sign our end of the paper work, we take you home.

Home, Samantha. Your home. You're almost home!

All my love,

your mommy

WHAT?!?!

Dear Child of Mine,

I woke up at 11:15 this evening with your father standing over me. He gives me this big smile and starts to gesture saying that he got a phone call. It went something like this.

Me: *lifts head up from bed, eyes bloodshot and tired*

Daddy: Baby's almost here.

Me: WHAT!?!?!

Daddy: She's at 8 centimeters.

Me: It's almost HERE?!?!

Daddy: Yep.

Me: The baby's COMING?!?!

I don't know what happened after that. The last few minutes have been a blur.

And now, my darling, I'm off to finally meet you. You're almost here!

All my love,
your mommy