It has been a long day. My daughter is one amazing chick. My son-in-law is precious. And my, uh, daughter's beautiful daughter was born at 1:51 a.m. (Eastern time) on September 7. She weighs 8#12 ounces (so did her mom) and was 20" long (so was her mom) and has a head full of hair (so did her mom). She also has an adorable little dimple in her chin (so does her dad).
Her name is Mayah Taylor. Mayah is Hebrew for "Close to God". Taylor was a last-minute surprise. It is her uncle Kevin's middle name.
As you know, I have stressed and wrestled with a name for myself. I'm not in favor of the name change. I just want to be me. ME. So, I'm just going to be M.E. (Pronounce the initials, like "Emmy"). I think it suits me.
Midwives are getting ready to leave, Mayah and her parents are bonding, and being a doula for my daughter was 100x more difficult than I anticipated. Parents are not wired to watch their children in pain, as some of my dearest friends know all too well.
It has been a very memorable LABOR Day.
The best part is . . . Kevin was WRONG, and I was (what?) RIGHT!
Well, okay, maybe that was the second best part.