The Day After June 20

When I last posted, I was 37 weeks pregnant, incredibly uncomfortable, and very warm. I questioned the validity of doing the pregnancy thing another whole 3 weeks, then rationalized that it was better since we would get to move and kind of get settled in before the baby got here. Um, WRONG. So. WRONG. That afternoon I felt “weird” (obviously I wasn’t in labor- I had just gone to the doctor on Wednesday and they said everything looked great, see you next week.). So I went by the house, where one of the workers outright told me I should go put my feet up, then I went home, called Matt, and told him I was skipping my workout and just hanging out.

He went to the house that night and started painting, but called me around 10, saying he was coming home. Also, he said he was exhausted (obviously neither of us knew how to define that word at the time) and he would work on painting the next night. WRONG. So. WRONG. So he came home, and walked in the door, and came to the bedroom, where I was lying down and read him, and (here’s where it gets awesome…) I looked at him and said “I just feel weird.” Which is when my water broke.

Fast forward 12 hours to June 21, and our daughter was born. Remember how I was contemplating a natural childbirth? Yea….I think that’s an amazing skill that so many women are champions of, but I asked for an epidural. Not immediately, I was in immense pain when I did, but I ended up going the anesthesia route. And it was Ah-ma-zing! I took a nap while my body worked through contractions like a champ.

Fast forward 8 weeks and here we are, technically moved into our home (we moved on July 5th, when our sweet baby was 2 weeks old) and stepping around boxes constantly. I can’t find anything- I have been searching for my make-up brushes for weeks, which just dawned on me as strange because when have I had time to put on makeup? I shouldn’t even be typing this right now- I should technically be asleep because she is asleep. And when you have babies you should do that too. But I became aware that I hadn’t updated the blog in forever, and some friendly readers reminded me of that. Thanks for staying on top of things!

Fast forward to I AM A PARENT. Strangest thing ever. I look at this perfect creature (and even when she is a red, screaming monster, she is a perfect creature) and marvel at the fact that I am in complete charge of making sure she survives. The first few weeks I was constantly looking at her and touching her to make sure she was still breathing. I know, i was one of those parents who end up waking their perfect sleeping infant because of their own paranoia. Too much Law and Order or something.

Are there some downsides? Yes. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and only talk about how incredible it is, and how I wouldn’t change anything. Because I would change lots of things. Like this whole not sleeping through the night. While I understand their teeny bodies metabolize food too quickly for them to stay asleep for 8 hours, it would be nice. Even 4 hours would be nice. Actually, at this point, I would take 3. 3 sounds perfect. I hope one day she reads this and immediately sends me to take a 3 hour nap. Downside 2: Everyone said, put her on a schedule. Um, yeah… you are more than welcome to drop by, explain the concept of scheduling to her, then make it happen…yeah…. Downside 3: I could only really think of those two. I guess getting thrown up on daily is not my favorite thing, but it’s not the worst thing to ever happen.

Are there upsides? YES. TOO MANY TO COUNT! Each day she does something that floors me, and makes me laugh, and makes me cry, and makes me want to keep her at exactly that moment for at least a few weeks. It goes too quickly. One day she wasn’t looking at anything in particular, then, the next day, her eyes found mine and I knew she knew exactly who I was, and wanted to stay as close to me as possible. It was incredible. Or, when Matt had her and told me how she grabbed the cat and her eyes grew huge. Or when she watches her mobile, or looks at her favorite book (Black and White by Tana Hoban). Or how I feel when this tiny creature is lying on my chest, completely satisfied with her world.