The second half of November saw an EPIC Star Wars birthday party for my young Jedi Princess. She had recently discovered the power of the force and it was pure torture planning such an epic geeky shin-dig knowing Matt wouldn't be there. Part of our investment into our future was making REALLY sure that he and I were headed somewhere permanent before I brought him to the girls. Boozer and Bucket had been through many changes in the past year and with their dad's recent engagement and them expecting a new baby in the spring, I didn't want to throw more people into their lives unless I intended to keep them there. 

November also was a waiting game for girl-Adrienne. Her parents were planning a home VBAC and I had agreed to come attend her labor... in Portland. Matt and I also had a trip planned for Portland to see Springsteen and get away and just *be* for a day. Enjoy a long drive with no "are we there yet"'s and sleep in a bed that isn't full of pull-up clad preschoolers and a nursing baby. The question remained: would girl-Adrienne arrive before our trip? Or after? Or *gulp* during?! 

The answer turned out to be "before". RIGHT before. Maureen's labor kicked into gear on Monday afternoon, prompting my distance-doula-partner, Sean, and I to hop in her Subaru and head out! I brought Baby along for this birth because she was still so little and wear-able, and Maureen was fine with her presence. We rolled into her driveway after midnight and Maureen was still in early labor. Sean and I took shifts, sleeping and sitting with the Maureen. Her labor as a VBAC'ing mama had an extra level of emotional challenge for her and her team of midwives, doulas and her amazing husband kept her grounded through the night and the better part of Tuesday. She delivered her daughter into her arms in the birthing tub in her living room and it was an absolutely spectacular birth!  Sean and I packed up and headed back home, with her dropping Baby and I at Matt's apartment just after bedtime on Tuesday. I slept like a corpse and was able to get up and head up to pass Baby of with her dad in the morning. That was it! We were off!!!  Portland or bust!

The trip was beautiful... we checked into our hotel, got all gussied up and went wandering around the city in search of a good place to eat. The running theme for the past week had been that Mr. Scroodge-Matt "doesn't like" Christmas... and as luck would have it, Mr. I-Love-Beer-Matt and I stumbled across a Holiday Ale Fest a block from the hotel. We found a lovely place with amazing food and drinks for dinner, hopped a cab to the concert and I showed him the amazing concert skillz of The Boss. Afterwards, we attempted to find a cab back and then decided that we could easily walk the 1.3 miles back to the hotel. It was lovely exploring the city in the dark of night. The next morning, we found a cafe for breakfast, packed up the car, wandered the city a bit more {stopping at VooDoo} and took a slow route home after checking in on Maureen and girl-Adrienne. It was a *perfect* trip. In the span of 72 hours, I'd driven to Portland and back twice, and both were for such lovely reasons, that I've now associated that stretch of I5 as a lovely bit of land that leads me to happy things! 

So October was amazing and we headed into November flying high on dopamine in that adorable {nauseating} puppy-love phase. Texts were never more than 5 minutes apart, my therapist cautioned us against spending "too much" time together and we grudgingly took her advice. We struggled with a few recurring issues that (I think) are normal given our circumstances. I was still finishing up the last of my healing from my divorce and it was the kind of healing that couldn't be addressed until a new partner entered into my heart. I viewed it as a big cave that had areas I still needed to explore but I wouldn't have been able to find them without my flashlight. Matt was my flashlight.  Knowing this was the case, I held back a LOT of feelings that were brewing as we moved forward and I was very open about it with him. I know it was hard for him, and I credit a lot of our success to his patience during November. He was open about it when he got frustrated by my pace but he was confident that it would be worthwhile. 

November was when we both realized this was WAY more than a fling... we had really found someone that fit every facet of what we thought we could ever want... and we needed to make sure we didn't mess it up. We strengthened our friendship, we talked about our pasts and shared the parts of ourselves that we had nurtured and grown since our first marriages failed. Finding someone with the emotional intelligence to handle these kinds of introspective discussions made us really excited! PLUS! We both loved Star Wars!!! 

Part of Matt's "hazing" into being in a relationship with a birth doula began in November. It was the month that I had agreed to be the doula at the home births of two very dear friends and both of those births threatened to fall on our planned getaway at the end of the month to see Bruce Springsteen in Portland. Both of those lovely mamas planned on naming their babies Adrian/Adrienne as well... and the babies are forever distinguished as boy-Adrian and girl-Adrienne. We booked the trip, crossed our fingers and daydreamed about what it would be like to be kid-free and far away for 36 hours.  

Well, as luck would have it, Boy-Adrian decided to arrive on a Tuesday and Morgan labored hard and beautifully before calling us all in to help her with the delivery. I had sent all the girls off with their dad so I could be ready to go and I'd been checking in with Matt because he knew that this birth would be a strong one for me emotionally.  My work is usually emotionally taxing but it is especially emotionally charged when you are assisting someone you love through the pains and endurance of labor. Though I know that labor is a normal process, seeing someone you love endure the emotional and physical pain of birthing is something that I like to plan a bit more self-care for. I was present when Morgan had her daughter 2 years before and she is my best friend and held my hand through two of my babies so the connection with her while she births is very strong.

Knowing that I was at boy-Adrian's birth and needing to focus on Morgan, when Matt woke on that fateful Tuesday with a severe gallbladder attack, he dropped Bean off at daycare and drove himself to the ER. As he lay in agony curled up on a couch in the waiting room, I was texting him giddy messages about the beautiful job my friend was doing and how gorgeous (and huge) her sweet baby boy was.  Only as I was driving to get Bucket from preschool did he calmly text "can you talk?" so I called and just about threw the phone out the window when he told me what had happened, where he was and that they planned surgery that afternoon to remove his gallbladder. I replied with a simple, "I'll be there in an hour" and though he seemed surprised, I didn't flinch. I called my friend Matilda and being that she has endured gallbladder removal surgery herself, she was instantly on board with taking my kids. I scooted off to the hospital and parked by his side to distract him until they wheeled him into the OR. Hospitals can be scary places when you're a patient and I was able to utilize my doula skillz to help him stay calm. I think the funniest part was when the doctor came to update me and she explained how royally messed up his gallbladder was and then asked me if I wanted to see a picture of it! I balked and replied "I've only been with the guy for a few weeks, maybe I should ask him first?"  HA! 

November Part 2 was also interesting... so interesting that it gets it's own post...