Everything happens for a reason

For the last month, I have been making special deals with the babe in my belly.

"Come out now, sweet little guy, and you can have the biggest room in our next house!"

And yet despite my offers and other attempts to set myself him free (last week I ran a couple of days, half a mile at a time, to no avail), he just sat wedged in there, happy as can be.

You see, our dear little Reid is one patient, considerate little guy.

Last week had plenty of bumps: we were back and forth with potential buyers for our house, rejecting multiple offers, putting out new ones; we were taking turns staying home with Will as he battled what turned out to be adenovirus that pretty much shut him down and got us a super fun spend the night sleepover at Children's Hospital; all the while I attempted to focus when I was at work, battling contractions and the other typical end-of-pregnancy discomforts.

Reid knew, you see. He knew exactly how much his mama could handle. And so he chose to stay put, patiently waiting to meet us.

We got home from Children's on Friday night, after hunkering down in a corner of our hospital room while random tornadoes ravaged areas around us (it was just a bizarre week, really). "Exhausted" was an understatement. I had just put my sweet Will through blood work and pokes and prods and squeezes while he'd scream for mama and beg me to go home. I'm starting to cry again just thinking about it.

I spent the night letting Greg sleep while I was up just about every hour with some early back labor, incredibly uncomfortable and desperate to just, well, sleep. I figured if this were labor, he'd need to be more rested than I.

We woke up Saturday morning; Will was still feverish. I enjoyed a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and we made plans to meet my mom at the airport that night--bless her for offering to come to take care of Will so that we could go to work this week.

And I think the Cinnamon Toast Crunch did it. Reid got a little taste and said, "Hmmmm, my mom must be feeling mildly better. Let's do this."

At 8:30 I was on pinterest in bed, timing contractions about 10 minutes apart. By 9:00 I was in the shower, thinking maybe I should get ready just in case. By 9:30 my brother-in-law was with Will and Greg and I were en route to the hospital with contractions just three minutes apart.

And by 7:25 that night, at 37 weeks and 3 days (the exact gestation Will also arrived), Reid was in our arms.

Worried about Will and his illness, we kept him at home (no visit to the hospital), which made our homecoming this afternoon this sweet:

My most favorite thing he said? "Baby Reid, you're my baby brother. I'm your big brother." Again, crying as I type. Hormones, really.

Of course, Kauffmans keep it interesting. Not even home for five minutes, Will broke out into hives (allergic to his baby brother?) and then threw up lunch all over the place. He hasn't had any appetite with his illness and ate his special hot dog-cheese lunch way too fast. But again...we keep it exciting. Have I mentioned we are showing our house tomorrow morning to those same potential buyers? Oh yeah...first night home with a newborn. We are probably crazy.

My favorite part of this whole story, though, is to tell you how amazing the heart is. I don't know how the heart does it, but every ounce of love I had for Will is still in there, and that little heart of mine just doubled its size, because Reid's place in it is just as big.

So here we go: two boys. Let the adventure truly begin.