Cornell- Party of 4

The day before our daughter was born via scheduled c-section, I had a not so mini breakdown. I tried my hardest to keep myself busy that day because I am notorious for making myself sick with worry over even the smallest thing. Eventually, I found myself in my son’s bedroom putting laundry away. As I stood in the middle of his room, I looked around and completely lost my mind. It finally hit me that I was no longer solely responsible for myself and that I was already a mother to a beautiful boy. I realized that there was a chance that something could potentially go wrong during my surgery and that although it was a terrible thought to have, it was possible that God could take me away from him. Insanely horrible thoughts began to flood my mind. What if I didn’t make it home? Would they talk about me enough so he wouldn’t forget about me? Would they tell him how much I loved him? Should I write him a letter with all of the things I would never be able to tell him but needed for him to know?!

With each crazy thought, I got more and more worked up. I called my mom at work in complete hysterics. When she picked up the phone, the only words I could get out were “ what if something happens to me?!”. All I could picture was the scene in the movies where the woman has a completely successful c-section and then moments after her baby is taken from her, she slowly fades away. Imagining my husband having to live in that moment tore my heart into pieces and I blurted out “ What if I die?!”. Throughout my meltdown, I could here her voice very calmly reassuring me that everything was going to be ok. It was not until I blurted out my most terrible thought that her voice changed. It was now stern, but I could also hear that she was trying to hold back tears Just like when I was a little girl, she said “Nicole Elizabeth, you get yourself together!” She told me that God would take care of me. That leaving this earth was not an option and that I did not need to write anything to my son because I wasn't going anywhere. She told me to take a deep breath and pray to God and all of our angels to protect me and my baby the next morning. So that night, after I dropped my son off at his grandparents house, I drove down to the beach alone and prayed to god, family members who have passed, and to whoever else would listen to watch over me as I brought this second baby into the world.

The next morning, I woke up, washed myself with those disgusting sani wipes they gave me, put on mascara (even though they said not to) and curled my hair because didn’t want to meet my baby girl looking a hot mess. I had Landon in the middle of the night unexpectedly after letting my hair air dry and remember looking like a frizzy mess the entire time I was in the hospital with him. I don't know about you guys, but I feel infinitely better about myself when my hair is done. Just saying. Anyway, after annoyingly rushing my husband out of the house because I did not want to be late, we arrived at the hospital 30 minutes early. (Sorry babe) They escorted us to Labor and Delivery where we were greeted by the nicest nurses of all time. They hooked me up to the machines, inserted my IV and gave me the run down of how things would go in the next few hours….then I went into labor haha! Not enough to cause any alarm, but it was still so funny how as I was waiting to go into surgery, our little lady started to move things along on her own. (This is probably foreshadowing for her personality as a teenage…yikes!) After about 30 minutes, it was time for them to take me back to the OR. They gave Brendon his scrubs and told him they would be back for him. Even writing this post, I don’t remember the walk to the operating room. I remember being scared of the spinal block and wanting my husband to be there with me.

As I climbed up on the operating table, the back of my legs rested agains the metal table and I blurted out “why is it so freaking cold in here?!” The nurse who had walked me back laughed and gave me a warm blanket to cover the front of my body with. I apologized and thanked her. Next, the RESIDENT anesthesiologist (who looked about 15 years old) started to tell me what the process was for inserting the spinal block that he was going to put into my spine. His attending held my hand while causally giving the resident instructions on how to do what he was doing. I won't lie...that whole process was terrifying! I can safely say today that everything went fine, but at one point after all was said and done, Brendon told me he heard the attending quietly reprimand the resident for turning something off that should have been on or something like that. When I was all prepped and ready to go, they walked Brendon in and sat him next to me. When he sat down he told me that they accidentally walked him in to the wrong room where another woman who as not his wife was also having a c- section! He started our play list (both of my kids have a song that they entered the world to) and we began to talk like we were casually having coffee. We had been through this before with Landon and there was something about the tone of the operating room that seemed more calm. All of my negative fears floated away and we laughed together and awaited the sound of our baby girl’s first cry. Brendon has always been the calm to my chaos and that is one of the many many reasons why I love him so much.

Then, at 8:36am, to Frank Sinatra’s New York New York, Isla James Cornell was born. Her cry is the second most beautiful thing I have ever heard (aside from her brothers) and I was instantly in love. A fellow blogger said recently “It is so crazy when you've wanted something so desperately since you were a little girl yourself, it's almost hard to believe it when you actually get it.” I’ve felt this way at least once a day, everyday since we brought our sweet baby girl home. Isla is now two months old and I still look at her sometimes and can’t believe she is ours.

Since she has been home, things have actually been a lot less hectic than I anticipated. Maybe we are just still high on the newborn baby fumes, but she seems to be a pretty easy going baby. She is a fantastic sleeper (now), eats like a champ and is loved endlessly by her big brother. He is absolutely smitten with her and literally tells her she's a “pretty princess” daily. I am sure this will change the minute she starts touching his stuff but for now I will take it.

xo. N