But of course, there are stories that go along with this great day.
Let's begin the night before. We all went to Fatz for one last hoorah, where we severely overate and discussed how upset Kelley was that she wouldn't be able to eat breakfast at Chick-Fil-A the next morning because she couldn't eat before her C-Section.
Going to sleep was impossible that night because all I could think of was how cool of an aunt I would be starting Tuesday. Even Jasper was excited. Tylenol PM helped that.
Waking up the next morning, I mean, I was freaking out. I won't lie to anyone. What would she look like? Is she going to be able to sing? Will she have hair? Will her head be shaped weird when she comes out? Will she look like an alien? It was crazy. Naturally, the only thing that could calm me down was a Chick-Fil-A biscuit. Mom and I found our way to the hospital, equipped with a book and a liter of Diet Coke so mom "wouldn't have to buy Diet Cokes out of the machine". Somehow, Mom and I ended up wandering onto a back alley elevator. How? I don't know. We see that the maternity ward is on the second floor, and as we step off, we're in a back hallway. I'm pretty sure we were in a surgery wing. "Mom I think we're lost." And she says, "Well let's start walking...we'll figure it out." We literally weave around some back alley hallways of Greenwood Hospital that I haven't seen since. And as we approached a doctor with complete surgery attire on, he said "Ladies can I help you find something?" Somehow, we ended up pushing through double doors that I'm pretty sure you had to have a badge to go through and, again, ended up on a back alley hallway. And again, we met a nurse in the hallway who, somehow, knew Mom and led us to Kelley and Patrick. So random.
We got back into the hospital room, I got lightheaded, and I gave my well wishes and left to find the family waiting room. My bad. But all those buzzers and beepers and white walls and hospital gowns were just too much. I had to peace out. Meanwhile, my father, grandparents (Bug and Buzzy), my Aunt Lutie, and my grandmother Cathy were on there way. After sitting in a waiting room filled with people who were speaking French, I think, I get a text from Dad. "Bug, Buzzy, and I are in the family waiting room. See you soon." Well, that's interesting because I was in the family waiting room too and all I saw was a group of French people. And thus begins our quest of, once again, getting lost in the hospital. After ten minutes of phone calls to Dad that were broken up because we had no service, we finally found each other. But only three out of five family members were present and accounted for. My Aunt Lutie called me and wasn't even sure if she was at the right hospital.....she was lost. And as my grandfather went to look for her, she showed up in the family waiting room after finding the OTHER family waiting rooms. I mean, dang. How many waiting rooms does one maternity floor need?
So four out of five were present and accounted for. But Grandmama Cathy was still wandering around the hospital somewhere. We decided it was better to tag-team this time so that we could put together the two paths where we had already gotten lost and perhaps learn from our mistakes. After retracing our steps and finding the ground floor lobby, expecting to see my Grandmother, we get a call that she is already upstairs. Soooo back up we go....only to get lost AGAIN. We asked her how she found her way up there...."I have no idea" was her reply. This was a circus. This was like a bad game of hide and seek and nobody really knew where home base was so everybody just ran around trying to find another person.
After all were finally present and accounted for, we all patiently waited for news...ANY news. Finally mom came in and just said that we had to wait longer. I was antsy. I was nervous. And at that point, I had already eating a 3 Musketeer bar and a bag of Combos from the vending machine. What else was I supposed to do? After a while, Mom got up and began pacing the hall because she couldn't sit still anymore. And around 12:50, she came running in saying that we have a 9 lb 3 oz Little Nugget of a girl!
When they were in the recovery room, they let some of us in one at a time to meet Ava Wynne. Now let's get one thing clear. I'm not one of those people that thinks that babies are beautiful and perfect. I think they're a little strange mostly. But Ava Wynne was an exception because she's the prettiest baby that has ever been born. I walked in and saw her, literally screaming her lungs out, and it made me feel so much better because I knew at that point that she would be a singer when she grows up. Thank God she'll be talented.
I sat and talked to her, took pictures of her, checked on my sister, and was rubbing her little head. Her hair was so long and curly already. And as I sat and played with her beautiful brown hair, Patrick looked at me, snickered, and said "You know that's the only part that they haven't really cleaned off yet." After gagging and almost passing out in my sister's recovery room, I realized that it was probably best for Ava Wynne and I to get acquainted better AFTER she had a bath.
We spent that day with our family, passing Little Nugget around, texting 99872 pictures to almost everyone in our phone books, and I obnoxiously video taped every second of it.
The next morning I returned to the hospital to spend the day with the new Little Nugget. When I miraculously found their hospital room, Kelley still couldn't get out of bed and Patrick was dead asleep....and OF COURSE, Ava Wynne needed a diaper change. I had no idea what to do. I'm not afraid to admit that I had never really changed a diaper. I don't do babies. So Ava Wynne and I had our first moment of truth. I looked at her and said "I reeeeeally need you to work with me here." And after carefully opening the crypt, I found that she worked with me. No poop here! THANK YOU LITTLE NUGGET!
Since then, I still haven't changed a poop diaper. I know that's coming, but I feel like waiting it out is the best option for both of us. Even so, she's so cool. I never thought I would think that a baby is cute. I have become one of those people that used to really get on my nerves by constantly showing me pictures of their little ones. Now, I force people to look at pictures of her and I don't feel bad about it! She's just so cool. And the best part about it: when she screams, I can just give her back! It's awesome. I look forward to getting to know this new Little Nugget. And to putting her in my baby backpack.
You cannot tell me that isn't the cutest thing you have ever seen. So friends, I admit it. I've become a mush. But at least I'm a cool aunt. Right? And until then, at least I know my niece isn't going to be like this lady.
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