This is going to sound like a big ol’ pity party, so feel free to skip this one. I just have to vent and move on.
I feel stuck. I’m tired and lonely. I sit in my house all day with my baby, playing Peek A Boo and watching Sesame Street videos. When I do leave the house, I’m exhausted by the time I get myself ready, the baby ready, pack the diaper bag and load the car. Just the thought of it makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.
I feel very isolated. I’ve made plans with friends several times over the last few weeks and they’ve been cancelled or changed without so much as a phone call. Then when I ask what’s going off, I’m told that the plans were changed to another time that already took place. I swear I’m not this pathetic around other people. I don’t know anyone in my area. I’ve tried to look for mom’s groups but there’s nothing around here. The ones that I’ve found either have very rigid rules for participation that I can’t commit to in this condition or they don’t meet all that often. I was able to join one of the latter but so far, in the three months that I’ve belonged, they’ve only met once to discuss a book that I have no interest in reading.
I could drop the baby off with my mother-in-law and go off on my own somewhere. But I’d still have to do all the prep work to get there. She also has her own stuff going on right now. I don’t want to interfere. And where would I go anyway? Plus, I always have some anxiety dropping her off, not to mention the mommy guilt.
My days have been mundane. I have no good stories to tell. I struggle to find fodder for this blog. I don’t mean to sound so “woe is me.” I’ll be too busy soon enough. So I guess I’ll just go back on You Tube and watch the Elmo’s Ducks video for the five thousandth time today.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Get All Up In A Pregnant Woman's Business
How to recognize them: If you’re pregnant, they’re watching you, staring at your every move. And they never know when to shut the fuck up.
Frequently heard saying: “You should drink eight ounces of water every hour.”
“You’re not going to drink a Diet Coke, are you? There’s caffeine and artificial sweeteners in there!”
“Don’t put that hot dog in your mouth!”
“Slow down! Walking too fast is going to get your heart rate and blood pressure up!”
“That’s too heavy! You can’t lift it!”
Why they bug: They’re not doctors. Their advice is not based on any medical authority whatsoever. And how I treat my body and my pet fetus is none of their business. Eight ounces of water every hour amounts to 192 ounces of water a day. I would pee every three minutes. Artificial sweeteners and caffeine are fine in small amounts. Hot dogs are okay as long as they’ve been cooked well. Getting your heart rate up is perfectly fine as long as your temperature is not also going up. In fact, exercise is good for you and will actually keep your blood pressure down. It’s okay to lift 50 pounds up to 20 weeks and roughly 20 or so pounds after 20 weeks. You won’t miscarry. Lifting heavy things is more of a concern for a pregnant woman’s back and balance than it is for causing early labor. But, if you want to carry this for me, maybe I shouldn’t stop you. I’m tired from walking too fast...to get away from you.
Their retort: “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? Just wait until you go into labor early!”
My response: Yeah, I do. Do you want to know why? I asked my doctor. She graduated in the top 10% of her class at med school. Did you? She isn’t concerned about any of these things. I can’t imagine why you would be.
Frequently heard saying: “You should drink eight ounces of water every hour.”
“You’re not going to drink a Diet Coke, are you? There’s caffeine and artificial sweeteners in there!”
“Don’t put that hot dog in your mouth!”
“Slow down! Walking too fast is going to get your heart rate and blood pressure up!”
“That’s too heavy! You can’t lift it!”
Why they bug: They’re not doctors. Their advice is not based on any medical authority whatsoever. And how I treat my body and my pet fetus is none of their business. Eight ounces of water every hour amounts to 192 ounces of water a day. I would pee every three minutes. Artificial sweeteners and caffeine are fine in small amounts. Hot dogs are okay as long as they’ve been cooked well. Getting your heart rate up is perfectly fine as long as your temperature is not also going up. In fact, exercise is good for you and will actually keep your blood pressure down. It’s okay to lift 50 pounds up to 20 weeks and roughly 20 or so pounds after 20 weeks. You won’t miscarry. Lifting heavy things is more of a concern for a pregnant woman’s back and balance than it is for causing early labor. But, if you want to carry this for me, maybe I shouldn’t stop you. I’m tired from walking too fast...to get away from you.
Their retort: “You think you have all the answers, don’t you? Just wait until you go into labor early!”
My response: Yeah, I do. Do you want to know why? I asked my doctor. She graduated in the top 10% of her class at med school. Did you? She isn’t concerned about any of these things. I can’t imagine why you would be.
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Sunshine Bores The Daylights Out Of Me
It’s such a beautiful day outside. The sun is shining. Although the air is somewhat crisp, no more than a light jacket is required for comfort. After a harsh winter, a day like this should be welcomed, right?
Wrong.
All I want to do is take a nap today. I got up early to clean the house. Spent the morning keeping the baby out of trouble and working on her physical therapy. She is now exhausted and napping contently in her crib. And I’m beat. I want a nap, too.
I know I should be out taking advantage of this gorgeous weather. I feel this horrible internal pressure telling me to not put on my jammies and get under the covers. I should take her to the park when she wakes up. Or, at the very least, I should go shopping or something. I hear a million people telling me that I should get out of the house.
Beautiful days and the pressure they bring are evil. People always say things that make me feel like I need to get some sun. Phooey. I hate that pressure. The sun makes my eyes teary. And it’s not that warm outside. I like being a pale recluse with insomnia. I am the thing that goes bump in the night. But I know it’s not good for my kid to not get fresh air. So I will suck it up and go to a park or to a store. I will take her out in public and pray that she does not have a diva like meltdown.
Tomorrow. It’s still going to be nice out, right?
Wrong.
All I want to do is take a nap today. I got up early to clean the house. Spent the morning keeping the baby out of trouble and working on her physical therapy. She is now exhausted and napping contently in her crib. And I’m beat. I want a nap, too.
I know I should be out taking advantage of this gorgeous weather. I feel this horrible internal pressure telling me to not put on my jammies and get under the covers. I should take her to the park when she wakes up. Or, at the very least, I should go shopping or something. I hear a million people telling me that I should get out of the house.
Beautiful days and the pressure they bring are evil. People always say things that make me feel like I need to get some sun. Phooey. I hate that pressure. The sun makes my eyes teary. And it’s not that warm outside. I like being a pale recluse with insomnia. I am the thing that goes bump in the night. But I know it’s not good for my kid to not get fresh air. So I will suck it up and go to a park or to a store. I will take her out in public and pray that she does not have a diva like meltdown.
Tomorrow. It’s still going to be nice out, right?
Saturday, February 27, 2010
You Can't Join My Play Group If...You Think You Deserve A Medal For Giving Birth Naturally
BLOGGER'S NOTE: This is a variation of the Creep Of The Week feature of my other blog.
How to recognize them: Female with child(ren), she often likes to put herself in ridiculous situations and play the victim card. Then she expects the rest of us to be in awe of her fortitude for something she did not have to go through in the first place. Also, she has an extremely stretched out vagina.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration).
“It’s called labor for a reason.”
“Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?”
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
How to recognize them: Female with child(ren), she often likes to put herself in ridiculous situations and play the victim card. Then she expects the rest of us to be in awe of her fortitude for something she did not have to go through in the first place. Also, she has an extremely stretched out vagina.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration).
“It’s called labor for a reason.”
“Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?”
“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Sweet Dreams, Baby!
In the past few weeks, I have heard a lot of moms complaining that their babies are not sleeping. There are experts out there making mints off various methods. Since I have managed to raise a good sleeper (*knock on wood*), I am going to share what I have learned with you.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Pregnant Women Lie
"I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as it's healthy."
We've all heard this statement before. It is clearly a load of bullshit.
I understand fully that a healthy baby is certainly a priority. When I was pregnant last time and had to have an amnio (which ended up being botched, resulting in a need for a second amnio), wanting a tiny little girl in a fluffy pink blanket was certainly put aside for a more dire concern. But it never went away. And I was crazy excited when the amnio results came and confirmed what the doctor who performed the amnio seemed to find a bit iffy - that my dreams of tea parties, dolls and puppet shows were about to become a reality.
Why can't people just admit they have a preference? Why can't you want a healthy boy or a healthy girl? And really, even if that child is not healthy, will you love it less? I would think that a mother's love for an ailing child is even more profound since there is more on the line and the possibility of something going horribly wrong is a reality that she always stares in the face.
I write this on the eve of my big ultrasound which will hopefully show a healthy child but also the genitals that I prefer. And I get being a little depressed about not getting what you want. For me, one outcome should go off without a hitch and the other will be a bigger challenge in terms of logistics and certain practical elements, like what to name the baby when neither of us can agree and no one wants to back down.
I assure you that I will love this baby no matter what it is, as long as it's not a republican. But there is a certain way that I want things to go tomorrow. And in my vow of honesty and throwing political correctness at the wind, I cannot deny it.
We've all heard this statement before. It is clearly a load of bullshit.
I understand fully that a healthy baby is certainly a priority. When I was pregnant last time and had to have an amnio (which ended up being botched, resulting in a need for a second amnio), wanting a tiny little girl in a fluffy pink blanket was certainly put aside for a more dire concern. But it never went away. And I was crazy excited when the amnio results came and confirmed what the doctor who performed the amnio seemed to find a bit iffy - that my dreams of tea parties, dolls and puppet shows were about to become a reality.
Why can't people just admit they have a preference? Why can't you want a healthy boy or a healthy girl? And really, even if that child is not healthy, will you love it less? I would think that a mother's love for an ailing child is even more profound since there is more on the line and the possibility of something going horribly wrong is a reality that she always stares in the face.
I write this on the eve of my big ultrasound which will hopefully show a healthy child but also the genitals that I prefer. And I get being a little depressed about not getting what you want. For me, one outcome should go off without a hitch and the other will be a bigger challenge in terms of logistics and certain practical elements, like what to name the baby when neither of us can agree and no one wants to back down.
I assure you that I will love this baby no matter what it is, as long as it's not a republican. But there is a certain way that I want things to go tomorrow. And in my vow of honesty and throwing political correctness at the wind, I cannot deny it.
Monday, April 6, 2009
This Is Your Life
Dear Anastasia,
I'm writing this blog for you. There are so many things I want to share with you but you are only six months old and don't understand what I'm saying. Someday you will. I hope this blog will help you understand the world as well as where you came from and maybe shape who you will become.
Let me start by telling you the story of your life so far. Once upon a time, your father and I met, fell in love, got married and traveled the world. Your daddy is an accountant who can be a little rigid and set in his mind as many people of German heritage can be. I like to think of myself as more of a partier/rocker, although deep down I'm really just as grounded as your dad. We both have MBAs and education is a strong value of ours. We are experiencers, going to concerts, new places and trying new things. We're also extremely liberal. These are things we hope you will value and cherish too.
Being liberal is what lead to your creation. You see, daddy was very excited about Barack Obama winning the Iowa caucus. He and I celebrated and two weeks later, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I took a test that let me know that you were about to rock my little world.
Being pregnant with you had many ups and downs. For the first time since I was a teenager, I was able to get a good night's sleep. I have had bouts with insomnia all my life but I was so exhausted all the time while carrying you. I loved feeling you move around inside me. I liked to watch my tummy shift and move while you turned around. Your father thought it was creepy. We had a few scares. I had to go for an amnio. That means that a doctor stuck a big needle in my tummy to take some samples of the fluid that was protecting you. Unfortunately, the doctor totally botched it and I had to do it a second time. You were okay, though. And that was when we found out you were a girl. We were so happy. We really wanted a girl. I also had a seizure during my gestational diabetes test. No one really knows why. You also turned around the wrong way two weeks before you were supposed to be born. You later turned yourself back to where you were supposed to be right before the appointment I had to have you surgically removed from my body.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure was getting kind of high. You were a week late and the doctor decided that it was time for you to come out. After a breakfast of Egg McMuffins, your dad and I went into the hospital on a Tuesday morning. I spent most of the afternoon with strong contractions, two minutes apart lasting for a minute and a half each (that means only 30 seconds of "down time") but the nice doctors gave me something called an epidural that night and I slept very comfortably. I listened to your heartbeat through a series of probes and machines. The doctor seemed to have some trouble connecting a probe to your head. I should have known something was up then. Sometime around 2 am, I heard your heartbeat slow down. Before I even had a chance to call for help, there were several people in my hospital room tending to us. They stopped my contractions to give you a break. At 5 am, Dr. DeAngelis came into the room, told me that even though my body was doing everything it could to push you out, I was not making enough progress for you to come out. So they gave daddy scrubs and wheeled me into an operating room.
Your birth was the most surreal experience of my life. Your daddy walked into the operating room in his scrubs and I did not even recognize him until he put his hand on my shoulder. I was shaking. I tried not to but the nice doctor who turned up the epidural told me that there was no way I'd be able to control it because of my hormones. I was worried that the doctor would have a hard time taking you out of my tummy but before I knew it, I heard you cry. You were born on a Wednesday morning, a little after 6:00. The nurse brought you over to me to show me what you looked like. You were so small but still bigger than I expected you to be. I could not believe it when they said that you weighed over eight pounds. They wrapped you in blankets and your daddy brought you over to show me. But I couldn't really get a good look at you. Then they said that they were going to take us back to our hospital room and that I would have to hold you while they wheeled us out of the OR. I was scared and told them not to but they insisted. We went back to the room and bonded while I tried to feed you.
Later, they moved us to a different room where we stayed for the rest of the our time at the hospital. I was tired and thirsty. The medicine started to wear off and I almost threw up all over you. They took you to the nursery. Your dad and I napped. I had a very long and hard recovery from the operation. It took several weeks for me to be able to stand up without pain. It would break my heart when you would cry and I could not just jump up and take care of you. Your dad was there for this time. He took such good care of us both. I will always be very proud of the way handled everything.
We came home the Saturday after you were born. I was really sick of being in the hospital by then. People came to visit you and grandma even stayed with us for a few days to help out. Daddy took vacation time from work for a month and my leave was for three months. During that time, you and I would do things like watch the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 am. I'd eat Pop Tarts and we'd take naps while the morning talk shows were on. I liked being home with you and cherished every second.
As the holidays approached, I knew I would have to return to work. It was hard for me to enjoy them because of this. You and I had just settled into a routine. You were also just starting to do cute things like smile and laugh. I cried every day for the last two weeks of our time together. The morning I went back to work, your daddy brought grandma over to our house to watch you for the day. I left the house in tears because I knew how much I would miss you. I came home to see you during my lunch break and before I knew it, the day was over. We took grandma home and I played with you for the rest of the night.
In a few days, you will be six months old. You are beautiful and healthy. You giggle and smile for your dad and me all the time. You love your grandpa and grandma, too. You're not too keen on being around other people. You get that from me. Your eyes are blue and usually a little crusty. Your doctor says you have a blocked tear duct. I hope it clears up. Your hair is a dark blond color with a little bit of red when the light hits it. You like to play on your bouncy chair and your play mat. You hate cereal and fruit. You suck your thumb but only when you are calming yourself down and going to sleep. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. When your Nana went to heaven, your Gramps told me that she loved me in a way that I would never understand until I had kids of my own. Now I know what he meant.
I'm writing this blog for you. There are so many things I want to share with you but you are only six months old and don't understand what I'm saying. Someday you will. I hope this blog will help you understand the world as well as where you came from and maybe shape who you will become.
Let me start by telling you the story of your life so far. Once upon a time, your father and I met, fell in love, got married and traveled the world. Your daddy is an accountant who can be a little rigid and set in his mind as many people of German heritage can be. I like to think of myself as more of a partier/rocker, although deep down I'm really just as grounded as your dad. We both have MBAs and education is a strong value of ours. We are experiencers, going to concerts, new places and trying new things. We're also extremely liberal. These are things we hope you will value and cherish too.
Being liberal is what lead to your creation. You see, daddy was very excited about Barack Obama winning the Iowa caucus. He and I celebrated and two weeks later, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I took a test that let me know that you were about to rock my little world.
Being pregnant with you had many ups and downs. For the first time since I was a teenager, I was able to get a good night's sleep. I have had bouts with insomnia all my life but I was so exhausted all the time while carrying you. I loved feeling you move around inside me. I liked to watch my tummy shift and move while you turned around. Your father thought it was creepy. We had a few scares. I had to go for an amnio. That means that a doctor stuck a big needle in my tummy to take some samples of the fluid that was protecting you. Unfortunately, the doctor totally botched it and I had to do it a second time. You were okay, though. And that was when we found out you were a girl. We were so happy. We really wanted a girl. I also had a seizure during my gestational diabetes test. No one really knows why. You also turned around the wrong way two weeks before you were supposed to be born. You later turned yourself back to where you were supposed to be right before the appointment I had to have you surgically removed from my body.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure was getting kind of high. You were a week late and the doctor decided that it was time for you to come out. After a breakfast of Egg McMuffins, your dad and I went into the hospital on a Tuesday morning. I spent most of the afternoon with strong contractions, two minutes apart lasting for a minute and a half each (that means only 30 seconds of "down time") but the nice doctors gave me something called an epidural that night and I slept very comfortably. I listened to your heartbeat through a series of probes and machines. The doctor seemed to have some trouble connecting a probe to your head. I should have known something was up then. Sometime around 2 am, I heard your heartbeat slow down. Before I even had a chance to call for help, there were several people in my hospital room tending to us. They stopped my contractions to give you a break. At 5 am, Dr. DeAngelis came into the room, told me that even though my body was doing everything it could to push you out, I was not making enough progress for you to come out. So they gave daddy scrubs and wheeled me into an operating room.
Your birth was the most surreal experience of my life. Your daddy walked into the operating room in his scrubs and I did not even recognize him until he put his hand on my shoulder. I was shaking. I tried not to but the nice doctor who turned up the epidural told me that there was no way I'd be able to control it because of my hormones. I was worried that the doctor would have a hard time taking you out of my tummy but before I knew it, I heard you cry. You were born on a Wednesday morning, a little after 6:00. The nurse brought you over to me to show me what you looked like. You were so small but still bigger than I expected you to be. I could not believe it when they said that you weighed over eight pounds. They wrapped you in blankets and your daddy brought you over to show me. But I couldn't really get a good look at you. Then they said that they were going to take us back to our hospital room and that I would have to hold you while they wheeled us out of the OR. I was scared and told them not to but they insisted. We went back to the room and bonded while I tried to feed you.
Later, they moved us to a different room where we stayed for the rest of the our time at the hospital. I was tired and thirsty. The medicine started to wear off and I almost threw up all over you. They took you to the nursery. Your dad and I napped. I had a very long and hard recovery from the operation. It took several weeks for me to be able to stand up without pain. It would break my heart when you would cry and I could not just jump up and take care of you. Your dad was there for this time. He took such good care of us both. I will always be very proud of the way handled everything.
We came home the Saturday after you were born. I was really sick of being in the hospital by then. People came to visit you and grandma even stayed with us for a few days to help out. Daddy took vacation time from work for a month and my leave was for three months. During that time, you and I would do things like watch the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 am. I'd eat Pop Tarts and we'd take naps while the morning talk shows were on. I liked being home with you and cherished every second.
As the holidays approached, I knew I would have to return to work. It was hard for me to enjoy them because of this. You and I had just settled into a routine. You were also just starting to do cute things like smile and laugh. I cried every day for the last two weeks of our time together. The morning I went back to work, your daddy brought grandma over to our house to watch you for the day. I left the house in tears because I knew how much I would miss you. I came home to see you during my lunch break and before I knew it, the day was over. We took grandma home and I played with you for the rest of the night.
In a few days, you will be six months old. You are beautiful and healthy. You giggle and smile for your dad and me all the time. You love your grandpa and grandma, too. You're not too keen on being around other people. You get that from me. Your eyes are blue and usually a little crusty. Your doctor says you have a blocked tear duct. I hope it clears up. Your hair is a dark blond color with a little bit of red when the light hits it. You like to play on your bouncy chair and your play mat. You hate cereal and fruit. You suck your thumb but only when you are calming yourself down and going to sleep. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. When your Nana went to heaven, your Gramps told me that she loved me in a way that I would never understand until I had kids of my own. Now I know what he meant.
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