My bonus baby

I suspect the Duggar family might agree with me that no matter how many children you have, the birth of each one is it's own slice of heaven, a time when one is awash with the mystery and miracle of it all.

Yesterday at 10:27 a.m., I was awash in tears that steamed up my glasses. My son, MDL, was born, weighing in at 8 lb., 4 oz. and measuring 20.5 inches in length. In terms of facial features, he looks like N and G when they were newborns. Except his hair is dark brown, not red, and his eyes are grey, not sky blue.

It felt strange to walk into the operating room, as opposed to being wheeled in as I was last time. The birth was uneventful, other than me puking at the beginning (which is what I did with G's birth), and the doctor thinking she may have accidentally knicked my bladder (my bladder is fine, but I did pee bright blue for awhile after they did a wash to ensure my bladder didn't have any holes in it.

M screamed and fussed while the nurses were cleaning him up in the operating room, something N and G never did. And his apgar scores were great: 9 and 9 (so take that to those who blather about the harmful effects of antidepressants during pregnancy). He is already showing himself to be a little barracuda when it comes to nursing.

He is simply devine. To borrow from a friend's blog title, the 3rd time's a charm.