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Friday, April 30, 2010

Mom Wars, or...why can't we agree to disagree?

A lot of people are great parents before they have kids. We've all heard about (or experienced) people saying within earshot of a mom dealing with a tantrum or a crying baby or some other rather embarrassing situation, "Well, if I had a child, I wouldn't let them get away with that." Or saying "When I have children I won't feed them formula/breastmilk/ice cream/junk food...or use the television as a babysitter...or [insert some judgmental remark here]." You get the picture.

Annoying? Yes, but it kind of makes sense. They don't know. They haven't been in that situation before. Maybe they wouldn't do any of that stuff. Maybe they would, but at least (in my head) there's the ignorance factor. Heh. Maybe I'm so forgiving because I was totally guilty of this before the Little Man was born.

What really gets me are the MOMS who say this stuff. It's like a giant pissing contest between judgy moms and whoever gets their children to age 18 without breaking any mom taboos first wins. Bonus points if you can inflict guilt on as many other moms as you can in the process.

Here's my take on it.

I'm one of 5 kids. My oldest sibling is 15 years older than my youngest sibling. Mom was 23 when she had the oldest of us, 38 with the youngest. So she's been the "young mom" and the "older mom."

My two older sisters were both formula fed. My brother and I were exclusively breast fed, and my younger sister started on the breast but was switched to formula at 3 months because she had both upper and lower teeth and was, um, not gentle.

My two older sisters were cloth diapered. My younger siblings and I were in disposables from birth to potty training.

And so on. In other words - we were raised pretty differently from each other.

But in the end, we all ended up walking, talking, making it through school, and all 5 of us graduated college. Including my brother who has autism - which introduced all KINDS of socially "unacceptable" (for the time) parenting strategies.

What works for one person won't necessarily work for someone else. What works for one KID won't necessarily work for the next kid. Moms should know this. Moms should be experts in this. So someone wants to formula feed or use cloth diapers or disposables or elimination communication, or co-sleep, or have their kid sleep in the nursery, or watch TV before age 2, or cry-it-out. BFD. It won't ruin a kid, and as long as said kid is happy, healthy, and well cared for it's none of anyone else's business.

That's not to say that I don't plan to post strategies or things that have worked for me with the Little Man. I'm all for sharing tools to stick in the Mom Toolbelt, just not trying to force everyone to use them.

Ok? Ok.

/soapbox rant

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Old Ladies Love Babies, part 2

The other day we took the Little Man on a day trip to go visit my grandfather. My husband, parents, Little Man, and grandpa went out for lunch and afterward spent some time at the assisted living facility where he lives.

I had to go fax my doctor's note in to work, so my dad and I left for about 10 minutes to get that done at the facility's front desk. By the time we came back...

..Oh. Mah. Gaw.

They were swarming my husband. It was like a scene from The Birds.



...except instead of crows, they were surrounded by little old ladies. They all wanted to look at him and touch his little feet. We got more than one suggestion to leave the Little Man there for them to play with.

I have to admit, though, that I was secretly tickled every time one of them said "He's just the cutest baby!" And they didn't try to touch his hands or his face or criticize me in any way. So it was all good.

And I think it would be good to bring the Little Man down there more often. Good for him, and good for the little old ladies in his fan club.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Work-out Wednesday

I'm damn lucky, and I fully admit that.

I gained 34 pounds during the pregnancy and since delivery I have lost about 24 of those pounds.

However, prior to the pregnancy I had put on an extra 10 pounds already. The result? I have very few clothes that fit. Thankfully most of my work clothes will do for now, but as for the weekends I'm still wearing sweats and maternity pants.

I also did the dumb thing during pregnancy and didn't take the doctor's advice about exercise. He wanted me to walk two miles a day and I just decided not to. The result of that? I get winded walking up the stairs.

So I'm setting some fitness goals for myself and plan to keep myself accountable here.

  • Check in here with my progress on Wednesdays
  • Drink 64 ounces of water daily
  • Keep to USDA guidelines for portion control
  • Add at least one more serving of vegetables every day
  • Cut soda from the diet
  • Follow a training program to work up to a 5k run
  • Work up to a steady weight training routine
I know that goals are meaningless unless there's some way to measure progress. I don't want to get stuck on the scale so instead I'll use the fit of my clothing as the true test and also as my reward for success. Right now I have a pile of 6 pairs of pants that do not fit. As I make progress I'll look better, feel better, and the objective proof will be in the brand new (old) wardrobe!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Returning to Work

I had my 6 week postpartum checkup yesterday.

Side note: I highly recommend reminding the doctor about the lube before the pelvic exam, just in case he or she forgets. Trust me. Yeowtch.

I've been OKed to return to work on Monday. How has it been 6 weeks already?

Bit of history: I've struggled with depression for many, many years. Typically it pops up when I spend a lot of time at home. In fact my healthiest time, mentally, was when I was going to school full time and working three jobs (one full-time and two part-time). Too much time at home makes mama go, well, crazy.

Because of this I had always assumed that if or when I had kids I would need to continue working if only for sanity's sake. I had figured that if I worked I would ironically be more available to my kids because I would have less time to dwell in a negative mindframe and thus have more emotional energy for the kids.

Now I'm in a situation where I have to work. I'm the main source of income for the family so there isn't a choice.

Every time I think about it I want to cry. Since the Little Man was born I have been there for the diaper changes, the feedings, I've soothed him when he cried, I saw his first smile (at me!), I've bathed him, held him, loved him 24 hours a day. Starting a week from yesterday I have to give away 9 of those hours to someone else. I'm so sad that I might miss his first laugh, the first time he rolls over, crawls, walks, his first word. Even though I know he's too young to have this thought or feeling I worry that he'll think I'm abandoning him all day, that I prefer to be away from him while I'm at work.

It hasn't been a vacation staying at home. The Little Man is a demanding task master. As my husband puts it, "Having a child is the heaviest burden you never want to put down." I never knew how true that statement is until only six weeks ago.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Remedies

So my kid and I are pretty lucky that he hasn't had any health problems. No colic, no reflux, nothing that's warranted a call to the pediatrician yet :knock on wood:.

What he has had are pretty common baby-type things: 1) discomfort while pooping, 2) diaper rash, and 3) a blocked tear duct. We've been able to figure out how to deal with these pretty quickly at home (with the solicited advice of some experienced relatives).

Discomfort while pooping.
What was going on with our guy: he just hasn't gotten used to the whole sensation of stuff running through his system. He was starting to push way too soon, and getting frustrated.

What we did: we pushed on his feet so that his knees folded up toward his chest. This put him in a better pushing position than laying straight out. We also sometimes moved his legs in a circular motion, like he's riding a bicycle. If he seemed to have more gas than anything else we gave him Mylicon.

Diaper rash.
What was going on with our guy: he was getting a red little bum and one day I noticed little red spots that were about to turn into sores.

What we did: first we changed his diaper more often. Then we addressed the rash itself. We used water-only wipes (which the pediatrician recommended for the first month anyway), then at each diaper change used cornstarch baby powder to make sure his little butt was completely dry. Afterwards we applied a paste made of diaper rash ointment (zinc oxide) and Maalox. The spots disappeared within a couple of diaper changes and the redness went away by the next morning.

Blocked tear duct.
What was going on with our guy: baby's left eye was watering and he woke up with little eye crusties. He didn't have a fever or any other symptoms of being sick.

What we did: first I got a clean washcloth wet with hot water and made a hot compress for his eye. Then I ran my (clean) finder under his eye toward his nose 4 or 5 times as a kind of massage. I compressed the eye again immediately after. At his next feeding I dropped a couple of drops of breast milk into his eye (again, using a clean finger). According to the old wife known as my mother, breast milk has antibodies in it that will help to clear up minor infections. Well what do you know, it worked. The next morning my kid's eye was clear and the problem didn't come back for a few weeks. Last night he started to get a watery eye again, so we'll be treating again tonight.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Old Ladies Love Babies

So yesterday we brought the Little Man in for his one month well-baby appointment. Everything looks good, he's gaining weight, gaining length, and his head had a growth spurt. He cried through the whole exam, though. Screamed, really. This kid just really doesn't like being nekkid.

Anyway, after we got out of the exam room and I was waiting to pay the good doctor my husband and son were immediately assaulted by the 4 old ladies sitting in the waiting room.

"It's a brand new one!"
"Oh, he's so tiny for making all that noise!"
"How precious, what a handsome baby."
"I remember when my grandchildren were so small."
"What's his name?"
"How old is he?"
"You know, I have 2 children, 2 grandchildren, and 2 great-grandchildren!"
"Well I have 2 children and 6 grandchildren!"
"Oh yeah? Well I have 2 children, 4 grandchildren, and EIGHT great-grandchildren!"
"What a beautiful little baby, and you look like you have some experience with babies!"
"What a natural father."

Finally, one of the old ladies turned to me and said "Do you nurse?" I said yes. She said "Well he's crying for food, you oughta feed him!"

Nice.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

My Son, Month 1

I had assumed that the first couple of months would be rather uneventful. I expected that our days and nights would consist of feedings, diaper changes, soothing, and sleep. Well, our Little Man has made his needs and preferences clear from the beginning.

Things he's taught me in the first month:

  • He doesn't like to sleep on his back. He much prefers his side.
  • If I have to put him on his tummy, it darn well better be tummy to tummy with Mom.
  • Eating is the best thing evarrrrrr...he dreams about it constantly.
  • Mirrors might be the next best thing.
  • Diaper changes aren't so bad, but changing clothes is torture.
  • Baths can be fun given the right circumstances. Or they can be almost as bad as clothing changes given the wrong ones.
  • He will grow faster than I'm ready.
  • He has a 6th sense about when I lay down to take a nap - it's his cue to wake up and need food. STAT.
  • Waking up isn't fun for anyone, not even tiny babies. Can I cry like that when I need to start waking up for work?
  • Nipples aren't very confusing for him. Nip is nip in his world, and they're alllllll good.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

What No One Told Me About Breastfeeding

Lesson: before you have kids you know more about how mommying works than after having a kid.

Subject of the lesson: breastfeeding.

Since the beginning of the pregnancy I had heard about how hard breastfeeding is. Not how hard it can be - how hard it is. I considered taking a class, but in the end decided not to because :drumroll:

Women have been breastfeeding for thousands of years and the species has survived this long. It's a natural process, so it must be instinctual.

Well, to some extent it is instinctual. We know to put the baby on the breast and the baby knows to suck. But if that's all you know or all you're doing then the process will probably be rather difficult. It's been difficult enough for me and I'm one of the lucky ones whose baby has a good latch and my milk production is excellent.

What my assumption didn't take into account is that there are instincts and there are learned behaviors, and almost always those two factors have to be combined. For instance, you and I have an instinct to eat, but we have to learn what we can eat. Women instinctively know to put a newborn to the breast, but need some kind of guidance to do it effectively.

In earlier times people lived in smaller communities and were surrounded by birth (and death). Feeding a baby at the breast was something that young girls and women witnessed as a matter of course and could be explicitly taught by other members of the community if need be. More recently we've lost that. The nuclear family exposes us to fewer births, and societal norms tend to hide breastfeeding moms behind a blanket, in separate rooms, or at home. We don't see breastfeeding as a normal part of everyday life anymore; it's something that separates moms from society now. It's something that isn't usually discussed. Some people even put it in the same category as using the bathroom or masturbating - things that are unsanitary and offensive to do in front of other people. All of this hinders knowledge being filtered down or taught to new moms.

There are some things that I did know ahead of time that helped me to stick with breastfeeding after the first few days. Even that bit of knowledge, though, came with implications that I hadn't thought of ahead of time.

Here are some things that I knew followed by some additional information that no one warned me about.

A newborn's stomach is the size of a marble; all it needs during the first few days can be supplied by colostrum.
What I didn't think of: it doesn't take long for that stomach to empty, either. The baby will cry for food very often throughout the day and night. It was physically and emotionally draining to meet the baby's needs during this time. I recommend Lansinoh after at least every other feeding to prevent against cracked nipples.

Milk comes in later, usually 3-5 days after birth. The breasts may become engorged with milk and sore.
What I didn't know: baby's stomach hadn't caught up to the supply yet, so nursing only relieved so much of the discomfort. Also, the milk leaked. For me it leaked a lot and soaked right through my cloth nursing pads. The disposables (with a protective plastic lining) worked a ton better.

Milk comes out through the nipples (I know, I'm digging deep here, right?)
What I didn't know: there is more than one let-down of milk during a feeding. Meaning, the milk will come through the nipples and then stop flowing for a bit. With continued suckling after a few minutes the milk will come through again.
What I really, really wish I had known: some women (like me, heh) have what is known as a "forceful let-down" at first. This is where your breasts become a milk cannon and shoot breast milk out sometimes 2 feet from your body. This isn't pleasant for anyone, especially the nursing baby, and it makes a giant mess. A quick search of Google yields a lot of good advice about how to slow the flow or at least minimize the force. None of this advice worked for me. The same search also says that it should let up after a few weeks. Five and a half weeks later and I'm still waiting patiently.

Babies go through growth spurts.
What I didn't know: baby will ask for milk like he's in the middle of a nic fit during a growth spurt. During a growth spurt my kid goes from 0 to starving in approximately 0.00003 seconds. This is physically and emotionally trying in the same way that it was before my milk came in.

You need to drink plenty of water during the time that you're nursing.
What I didn't know: you want to drink all that extra water WHILE you're nursing. And I always forget this until after the baby is already latched on.

Nursing is a great opportunity to bond with your baby.
What I didn't know: how much of his little personality and funny quirks I would get to know during this time. Even though it's tough on both of us some of the time I'm so glad that I decided to stick with breast feeding.

Monday, April 19, 2010

What No One Told Me About Recovery

During the months leading up to delivery I had been told over and over again that my body will need time to heal. 6 weeks to heal, to give a rough estimate. However, nobody was specific about what exactly was going to happen. If I asked, I'd usually get a "Trust me. Just use the time to relax if you can."

So I'm not going to do that here. I'm going to outline what my experience has been so far with recovery.

Part 1: In the Hospital
You'll have lost some blood during labor and delivery. In me, this affected blood pressure and energy levels. So when you first get up to go to the bathroom, you might be pretty unsteady on your feet.

While you're in the bathroom, you'll probably notice that you're pretty swollen, um, down there. If you had any tearing or an episiotomy (or, like me, both) then you'll probably have stitches and a bit more swelling. For example, I was swollen out to about the size of a golf ball in the week or so after delivery. This made walking extremely difficult at first, and urinating was pretty uncomfortable. Also, with all the foam and pads and sprays and what have you that they gave me to use it took about 3 times as long to get in and out of the bathroom. As for showering, I didn't have the energy or the stomach to stand up long enough for even a quick shower in the day or two after delivery.

Most of my day was spent cooing over my newborn while sitting on an ice pack.

Part 2: At Home
Moving around was still quite difficult for the first two weeks or so. As the swelling (slowly) went down I could feel the stitches every once in a while poking into still-tender skin. Changing positions in bed or in chairs was challenging because the soreness was pretty bad; but staying in one position was also pretty painful.

But things were definitely feeling better than they had in the hospital. I was taking pain killers, iron supplements, pre-natal vitamins, and a stool softener. I could get to the bathroom OK and was able to stand up long enough for a shower. By the 4th day after the birth I thought I was well enough to fold some laundry and vacuum the stairs.

Much bleeding, cramping, and acute fatigue later told me that even those "easy" activities were a bit advanced. I didn't quite learn my lesson, though, and attempted to go to a street fair in town the next day. I ended up laid up in bed for the rest of that day and most of the next.

The day I passed a bowel movement (Oh, TMI? Oops, sorry) was truly momentous. And painful. I would put it on the same level as delivering the placenta (ewwwwwww, I said "placenta."). There was some bleeding. I spent about 20 minutes in the bathroom all-told. It was not fun.

That's pretty much the story of the at-home recovery for me. I rest, I try to resume activities, and then my body lays the smack-down on me. Each time it happens it gets slightly better, though. A bit less recovery time. Nearly 5 weeks out from the birth and I'm now able to cook, do most of my regular cleaning, take short walks outside, and ride in the car to go on day trips to visit family. I'm still bleeding a bit, though, especially if I try to over-exert myself. Carrying the infant car-seat is a little trying, but do-able. My poop-schedule isn't quit on track (Oops, TMI again. Oh well), and it's still kind of painful. And I've been working on my kegels to get things back in shape. The gas incontinence is the worst thing at this point, but that's starting to get better.

So with one week of recovery left, I'm just now getting back to feeling mostly normal, physically. I didn't even touch on the emotional recovery in this post; I'll leave that for another day. But at least on the physical end of things that six week window does seem to be critical for getting rest and focusing on healing the body. It went through a lot!

Saturday, April 17, 2010

The Beginning...part three

It was time to push.

The doctor walked in. No, walked isn't quite the word. Sashayed? Skipped? Performed handsprings? Those might be more accurate.

Here was this mild mannered man that I had been seeing at least once monthly for the past nine months. I was used to seeing him in a suit and glasses, rather reserved and soft-spoken, almost professorial in demeanor.

And here he was, snapping on his gloves with almost a playful twinkle in his eye. My husband was standing to the right of the bed. The doctor walked up to him, made a sweeping gesture toward my belly and told him, "There is a fish in there. And we are going to catch it!" He turned abruptly and walked away, off to prepare for the delivery that was to follow.

So much of the next two hours is a blur. What I do remember is what the doctor said during each contraction. My husband tells me that every time I said I was getting a contraction he would assume fighting stance, his right arm raised in a fist.

"PUSH! PUSH! THROUGH THE BOTTOM! THROUGH THE BOTTOM!"

The contraction would end and both of us would fall back and relax a bit.

"Now I know that this is difficult for you, but remember you must breathe out all the air in your lungs before you push. This is because you will inhale all you need for the pushing. You must have good air, lots of air, or you will not have enough energy for the pushing. Another contraction? EXHALE!! MORE! YOU MUST DO MORE NEXT TIME! PUSH! PUSH! THROUGH THE BOTTOM! THROUGH THE BOTTOM!"

And this continued for two hours.

Near the end my energy was draining. I was actually falling asleep between contractions, which I had never in my life believed would be possible. I have a vague memory of breaking into tears, at which point my doctor said "No. You cannot do this, you must be strong and push for this baby. This is not the time for tears. Remember, there is one person in this room who is more uncomfortable than you are: your baby."

When it was time the doctor asked for and received my permission to perform an episiotomy. Two contractions later my baby was delivered. That feeling - his birth - was hands down the most exhilarating feeling I have ever experienced. The release from the pain, the release from the abdominal pressure of pregnancy, together with the sound of his first cries created a sensation that is absolutely indescribable.

They laid him on my chest immediately and at once I saw my husband in his face. He was such a beautiful, squishy, old-man-lookin' baby. And then they took him away for clean-up.

I watched the nurses perform their clean-up duties, I watched my husband walk over to the bassinet and calm him with his voice, anything to distract myself from what was going on with me. The doctor tugging gently at the placenta (ewwwwwwww), - Baby is 7 pounds 1 ounce! - the eventual delivery of the placenta (ewwwwwwww), - 20 inches long! - the injection they gave me in my left arm, - Aw look, he's just peed on the floor. How cute! - the stitches to repair the episiotomy and the tearing that had happened anyway - OK, there's no distracting myself from that. Stitches without local anesthesia just sucks, and ten-fold when it's in such a sensitive area.

And then it was all over. I got some instructions from the doctor that I can't even remember, all of the pain was forgotten, and I got to hold my baby in my arms for as long as I wanted.

Baby boy was delivered at 11:03 PM. My husband and I cooed over the boy until we finally realized we were exhausted - 4:30 AM.

We should have gotten more sleep than that. But that's a lesson learned in retrospect.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Time Management

...or maybe the lack of time management?

I started this blog anticipating a post at least every couple of days just because there is so much I am learning and experiencing every single day.

Well, one of the things everyone told me that I didn't fully understand was that babies are time consuming. Also, that babies are kind of gross. Those things go hand in hand.

They poop, they pee, they puke, they drool, and sometimes that poop/pee/puke/drool leaks through their diapers and soaks into their little clothes. You know, the tiny little clothes that couldn't possibly fill up the washing machine. Well, they can and they do. And not only does it soak into their clothes but it also soaks yours, the sheets, any number of blankets, the carpet...you name it.

And all that liquidy goodness needs to get cleaned up. And when this bundle of bodily fluids (and love and joy!) isn't working on costing you your security deposit, he or she needs to eat. Or get burped. Or have their diaper changed. Or get tummy time. Or simply get loved on by mommy and daddy.

And in between that, Mommy and Daddy need to eat, shower, go grocery shopping, make and keep doctor appointments and in a couple of weeks here go back to work.

So to sum up, it's taken so long to get posts going because when I'm not doing nitty-gritty clean-up and other Responsible Adult Things, I've been soaking up precious time with my baby.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Beginning...part two

My membranes having just been stripped and my place of work notified that the big day had arrived, my husband and I set off for the hospital.

On arrival and registration, the nurse confirmed that I was indeed hanging out at 5 centimeters and sent us out for an hour long walk. So walk we did.

I wasn't optimistic when we came back, seeing as I didn't feel much different after walking around for an hour. I was convinced that we would be sent home and the waiting would continue for another night. So I was rather surprised when the nurse announced that after my walk I was dilated to "between 6 and 7 centimeters." After that, there was no going home - not with how far we lived from the hospital.

For the next few hours we played a waiting game of another sort: the nurses monitored my contractions, I worked on sudoku puzzles, and we all waited for the obstetrician to arrive. When at last he came, there had been no progress other than the baby having dropped a bit lower. At that time the OB broke my bag of waters.

Up to this point I had been leaning against using an epidural for the pain. I wanted to see how long I could make it without using drugs for the sole reason that I didn't want the medication to cross the placenta into the baby's bloodstream. Being the paranoid mama, I didn't want anything to affect breastfeeding. Dr. Google had told me that an epidural can sometimes make a newborn too groggy to feed right away and thus interfere with establishing breastfeeding.

Well, part of the joy of giving birth in a rural area is that you only have so many anesthesiologists to choose from when you go to the hospital. I could wait for the on-duty anesthesiologist to get out of surgery, or I could have them page the on-call anesthesiologist to come in and administer the drugs. If I waited too long, the on-duty guy would go home and the on-call guy might not arrive in time, so I had 0.91 seconds to make my decision. In retrospect I know that this is a load of crap, and in fact the nurse told me that I didn't have to make my decision right at that moment...but with amniotic fluid oozing out and the contractions getting stronger it sure seemed like I needed to make that decision right away. I opted for the meds. The nurse assured me that usually it takes 15 minutes for the on-call guy to arrive.

Well, I waited. And the contractions started getting stronger. A lot stronger. I practiced breathing through them like you see in the movies. I learned that breathing like they do in the movies doesn't really work by itself. I cursed myself for not going to any child birthing or Lamaze classes. I got really, really grumpy.

Two and a half hours later the on-call anesthesiologist arrived for the epidural. Inserting the tube into my spine was...an odd feeling. I later described it to my husband as the feeling you might imagine a metal pole would have when it's struck with another metal object. It felt...tinny. I squeaked when the medication went in...and then my legs and lower abdomen got very warm and the pain went away. Except for a patch in the lower right area, near my pelvis. DAMNIT. A hot spot. I got to experience labor both with AND without pain medication.

And then...we waited some more. After some time there had still been no progress since the 7 centimeters of dilation, so the doctor ordered Pitocin. All I have to say about Pitocin is thank God I had that epidural. Except for that one hot spot. Those contractions came on hard and they came on fast...so of course that was the time that my mother started sending the text messages.

Mom: "Are you OK?"
Me: "Yes"
Mom: "Can I call?"
Me: "No hurts 2 much 2 talk."
Mom: "Any progress?"
Mom: "How far are you dilated?"
Mom: "What does the doctor say?"
Mom: "Hello?"
Mom: "Do you think the baby will be born tonight?"

Here is where I threw the phone at my husband and hissed "Call my mother."

I found out shortly that this was Transition. By the time my husband got off the phone with my mother, having assured her that I was not hemorrhaging to death in the delivery room, it was time to push.

The doctor strode in.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

The Beginning...part one

I'll gloss over the pregnancy and just say that it was relatively uneventful, apart from the initial shock.

We weren't supposed to be pregnant yet. I'd just been hired for a new job and hadn't even had my first real day yet. We'd just moved to a different part of the state. And, well, this just wasn't supposed to happen yet.

But happen it did, and 9 months later the Little Man was born.

To backtrack just a bit, I have to admit that it took me a long time to get excited about having a baby. By "long time," I would honestly have to say that it took until just about the third trimester. Eventually I got to that excited place, though, and started looking forward to meeting my baby.

Like most pregnant women, I wondered a lot about when the baby would arrive. I was born at 44 weeks (yikes!), and my husband's family trended to the late side as well, so I got used to the idea that my little one would arrive a week or two late.

And then I had my 38 week appointment. I was dilated to 4 centimeters already, and starting to efface. My doctor sent me home with instructions to call him on Monday if I hadn't gone into labor already and a prognostication that the baby would certainly arrive within the week. I went home excited and very nervous and I stayed that way all weekend. Monday arrived but the baby hadn't yet.

I made the phone call and my doctor had me come back to the office for another quick pelvic exam. At that point he informed me that I was dilated to 5 centimeters. Being that I live more than an hour away from the hospital of delivery and I was dilating with no pain, my doctor and I decided to strip my membranes and go into labor and delivery.

My husband and I gathered the hospital bag together and set off to have us a baby.

Student of Motherhood

My son was born 3 weeks and 5 days ago. He is my first child and my husband's fourth.

Mostly I imagine that this will act as a kind of a journal. I'm completely fascinated with the baby in ways that I never could have imagined before he was born, and this seemed to be a good outlet for expressing that fascination. I'm totally inexperienced with this whole mothering thing, hence the blog title: Learning Mommyhood. I'll learn along the way from my husband, our families, other moms, and above all from my son. And then I'll post about the things we experience. Oh, also I'll post links that I think are useful.

In the past four weeks, I've already learned so many things as a new mother. It has been exhilarating, frustrating, enlightening, overwhelming, and fulfilling. Plus a lot of other -ings.

Here is a short list of some things I've learned:

  • Postpartum recovery really means recovery. As much as you want to go to the annual street fair three days after leaving the hospital, DON'T GO. It's an annual fair. Go next year. Your crotch will thank you.
  • If you ignore my advice and go to the street fair anyway...ice packs are your friend.
  • Babies are cute for a reason. That reason is that they are really kind of gross.
  • One extra person in the house equals 2983792876 times as much laundry. See the above bullet point for further explanation.
  • What used to be really disgusting becomes not-so-disgusting anymore. This is a survival mechanism for parents, as well as fodder for STFUparents.
  • I will always find some things disgusting. Like placentas.
  • After giving birth, the length of a day shrinks by approximately 6 hours.
  • It is possible to think about babies for 18 hours straight.
  • Baby "I'm trying to poop" faces are cuter than one would think.
  • Babies grow too fast. I mean, come on. It's only been 4 weeks and he's breaking my heart already by changing so quickly.
  • What worked last week won't necessarily work today. What worked yesterday won't necessarily work today.
  • Breast milk is really sweet. Also, it can squirt pretty far. Spontaneously. You might not want to know why I put those observations together.
  • On a related note, nursing pads are your friend. Might want to double up on those. Or stuff a burp rag or 2 in your bra.
  • And lastly for tonight, I learned what love is. Not only for my beautiful kiddo, but also for my husband. Everything is transformed in wonderful ways.
Good night!