The Birth of Frances

I'll try not to make this too gory. On Monday, Nov. 2, I drove myself home from Brooklyn and a wonderful surprise baby shower (pictures to come). I thought I was feeling great, but on Monday night, I started having some problems. I pulled Mark out of a class and told him it was time to go to the hospital. At the hospital, it was decided that Frances would be safer on the outside than in the inside and I was given drugs to get labor going. So from Monday night until Friday at midnight, I looked something like this:



It looks like I'm sleeping, but don't be fooled. I perfected many new skills over the week: deep, patterned breathing; visualizing; walking and showering with an IV and external fetal monitors; enjoying liquid meals; etc.

On Saturday, labor was finally progressing with the help of some more drugs. The midwife broke the amniotic sac around 2 p.m., by about 2:30 p.m. I gave up the idea of child birth without an epidural, and by 8:33 p.m., we had (brace yourselves):

She weighed in at almost 6 lb. 6 oz. and is 18.5" long.

Daddy was very proud...

...and tired...

...and smart (he sent this gorgeous bouquet).

And we think she's perfect, from her surprisingly dark hair to her freakishly big toes!

About Frances' name: I've been telling people for months that we were going to name our daughter Frances Elliott and call her Ellie. Turns out I was wrong. Her daddy held her a few times and decided she felt more like a Frances. Then Mark's parents called to say they'd been calling her Frances. Then my sister reported that names like Ellie and Elle and Ella were terribly trendy. So, "Frances" it is!