Nothing beats 6:00. He gets the baby, baby gets her daddy, I get two free hands (and the best seat in the house).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, June 27, 2011
6:00
Nothing beats 6:00. He gets the baby, baby gets her daddy, I get two free hands (and the best seat in the house).
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Case of the Mondays
I've spent the afternoon trying to avoid this face. Hope your Monday fared a little better!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Month 1: We've grown accustomed to her face
(this face)
Miss Eliza Louise is one month old as of Monday (five weeks as of today...busy week!). What a month it's been. So many highs in addition to the inevitable rough patches.
Month one was about getting our feet underneath us, getting to know our sweet girl, and watching her start to explore her world. While she started the month doing what newborns do best - eating, sleeping, setting world records for quickest dirty diaper - around two weeks her eyes flung open for hours at a time. What do you do with a quiet, wide-eyed newborn?
Tummy time
Stories
Tummy time
Stories
Photo shoots
We've learned she is not bothered much by noise (maybe those barky dogs have something to do with it) but is very stimulated visually - she loves art and colors. Me too, baby. The art above our sofa and above our bed are sources of endless fascination. She loves being outside, and we've learned it's a good trick for when she is fussy and needs a change of pace. Her sling is a happy spot, and because the doctor said she was perfectly safe from germs when she's in it, we've been getting out of the house quite a bit and she does wonderfully. Her little eyes cross when she's trying hard to focus, which we find adorable (and is normal for this age). We've started training her on sleeping in her crib (she sleeps in our room right now in a little cradle we call "the hopper"), and are trying to figure out a schedule for her. At her one month check-up, the doctor gave us the OK to stop waking her at night for feedings. She now sleeps 4-5 hours at a time which means just one night feeding and much more sleep for mama! The fog is lifting. Life with her is blissful.
Things we hope to always remember about this month: her little "E.T." noises and grunts. The way she kisses the air after a feeding. How she wakes up and stretches so big. Her Stevie Wonder head bob and the tiny hand that coils around my finger while she's eating. The lip. Oh that lip! The way she curls into me to snuggle. I know, looking back, we will miss this sweet, sleepy time.
She remains such a happy baby and we continue to count our blessings each day. It really wasn't long ago that we were on the other side of this, unsure of how a little baby would fit into our lives. It wasn't long ago I couldn't completely understand how hard and wonderful this could simultaneously be. Watching her grow and discover new things each day is a joy and we delight in everything she does. She stares so intently at us now and we are on the brink of a true smile. Watching our families love on her, our friends dote on her, makes my heart swell.
Like us, they needed a little time to adjust, but the pups now dote on her too, trotting behind us on our way to the nursery, sleeping by her cradle, stopping by to give a kiss now and then.
They stare at me wide-eyed when she cries - "do something!" She stares at them wide-eyed too.
The dust from our new normal is settling. We have become a family of three (five). We aren't sure how we got so lucky, but one month with this face and we can't imagine life without her.
"I've grown accustomed to her face.
She almost makes the day begin.
I've grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon.
Her smiles, her frowns,
Her ups, her downs
Are second nature to me now,
Like breathing out and breathing in."
-"My Fair Lady"
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Fatherhood
We were talking the other day about how as kids, our parents - and fathers in particular - seem to know everything about everything. They had full control over our little worlds and you knew just as long as Dad was there, it was all going to be okay. In reality, we are realizing they probably felt a bit like they were flying by the seat of their pants, not always quite sure what the hell they were doing and figuring it out as they went. As the first kids of our families, we know this was particularly true, and being on this side of it, we have a lot more respect for how much they were actually taking on behind the scenes.
Although we are now running our own baby's little world (and hopefully not screwing her up too badly), we still turn to them for advice on the important things. They are still the ones who know everything when we are at a loss.
My grandfather, Johnnie, is who everyone in my family turns to when they are at a loss. As wise as he is generous and kind, he's an incredibly important part of our lives and we are very lucky to have him so nearby.
This sweet man has been nothing short of amazing in all respects since the moment Eliza was born; he has a magic way of quieting her down and took to fatherhood instantly. They adore one another.
From day one he took every new transition in stride, billing as many hours as possible at work while also taking care of me and the baby, waiting on us hand and foot around the clock, driving us to the doctor, keeping the house clean. We are both sleep deprived, and there is much more on his shoulders than mine at the moment. He's made it look incredibly easy, and we are both so lucky to have him. Happy Father's Day to Daddy Jack and Big Steve, my stepfather John, my grandfather Johnnie, and the wonderful guy I married. XO
Although we are now running our own baby's little world (and hopefully not screwing her up too badly), we still turn to them for advice on the important things. They are still the ones who know everything when we are at a loss.
My grandfather, Johnnie, is who everyone in my family turns to when they are at a loss. As wise as he is generous and kind, he's an incredibly important part of our lives and we are very lucky to have him so nearby.
This sweet man has been nothing short of amazing in all respects since the moment Eliza was born; he has a magic way of quieting her down and took to fatherhood instantly. They adore one another.
From day one he took every new transition in stride, billing as many hours as possible at work while also taking care of me and the baby, waiting on us hand and foot around the clock, driving us to the doctor, keeping the house clean. We are both sleep deprived, and there is much more on his shoulders than mine at the moment. He's made it look incredibly easy, and we are both so lucky to have him. Happy Father's Day to Daddy Jack and Big Steve, my stepfather John, my grandfather Johnnie, and the wonderful guy I married. XO
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Today
Today, sweet Eliza Louise turns four weeks old, and I officially become one of those mothers who wonders where the time goes. It really does feel like just days ago that we brought her home, so excited to do her first diaper change in her nursery, introduce her to the pups. Gosh, we were even sort of excited about the first night feeding. We were ready to roll up our sleeves and wander bleary-eyed into the new parent trenches. So we did. And then life got pretty real.
It's not that we thought it would be easy. I was absolutely expecting it to be hard. The hardest thing I've ever done even. All of you who have done it are nodding along right now. Oh yes it's hard. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do. Of course it is. I guess anticipating it and living it are two different things, and having survived month one, I'm ready to recap. I'll sprinkle some pictures in because I know that's what you're really here to see.
Her first week involved 5 doctor appointments. Eliza came home a little jaundiced, so they wanted to see her on Monday to check her bilirubin levels. Jaundice, of course, is a super common thing, so we weren't too worried. Her levels crept up through the week, and each appointment dictated that she be seen again in a day or two. We got pretty familiar with her new pediatrician. I have no idea what I wore to those appointments, still not moving around too well, and getting the hang of the whole, not being pregnant and figuring out what to wear for breastfeeding thing. I know for a fact I had spit-up in my hair and was running on 2 hours sleep for at least two of them. Oh well, I'm sure they are used to filthy zombies wandering into their offices with precious oblivious babies in tow. My milk, I was told at the hospital, should come in any day now. It didn't. This was making her jaundice much worse, and causing her to drop too much weight, so we had to start supplementing with formula, and to help compensate for her not nursing as much, I needed to pump after every feeding around the clock. We talked and worried about poop, incessantly. I never thought I'd say that.
Four days in, they sent us home with a bili bed, which is essentially this baby tanning bed fitted with a blue light; the phototherapy helps with the jaundice. She was to be on it any time she wasn't nursing. She only cries when she is hungry usually, but she screamed all day, all night long. Torture. I was still in a lot of pain at that point and so couldn't sit with her while she was on the bed, so sweet Nicholas hovered over her much of the day and night, soothing her and trying to keep her calm. Eliza says it was the worst day of her life.
The next day, her levels were just barely good enough to not have to take the bed home for another night. So, so lucky! We figured out around then that the issue with my milk was my anemia, which was labeled severe when I left the hospital and had caused me to have a few fainting spells and be woozy much of the week as well. WHY was I told on one hand my milk should be in any day, and on the other hand I was super anemic? No one put these two together but as soon as I told the pediatrician she was certain that was the cause. We continued to supplement, I to pump droplets of milk, we saw a lactation consultant. Then I saw another one. Her weight continued to drop even after a few days of supplementing. I wept. Poor Miller didn't know what to do. It was a tough few days.
In week two and three, Eliza got so much better. Our little 7 lb daughter was thriving, despite having two green parents who were flying by the seat of their pants and some health issues stacked against her. She is the most perfect little newborn you could ever ask for.
I, on the other hand, started to struggle. The baby blues set in. Not being able to properly nourish my baby, combined with the crazy hormones, health issues, and no sleep, had come together into a fairly effective ambush, and I was feeling in short, like the worst mother ever. My only job was to feed the baby and I was failing. My husband was juggling work, and taking wonderful, perfect care of us; he had been a superdad from day 1. I thought this would come so naturally to me, I was the one who had so much experience with babies. I could change a mean diaper and give baby baths and knew what to do with a blue bulb. But I was overwhelmed; I hated breastfeeding, hated pumping - it all felt so futile and just contributed to my feelings of inadequacy. I started feeling disconnected from my baby, which is, truly, the most awful feeling in the world.
It's something no one talks about too much, at least not in detail, I guess because it's shameful to feel anything besides totally blissful and in love with your new, precious little blessing. Certainly that's what people seem to expect you to feel like. Certainly that's how I felt the first couple of days. Well, it goes without saying that I dearly loved my baby. But the emotional fog that set in was difficult and at times seemed insurmountable. I'd read about it, but living it was unsurprisingly, undeniably different.
I do still feel a little ashamed, and for many I realize this is considered a massive overshare, but I'm talking about it because I said I'd share this part, the honest, ugly, busted side of our little lives with our little one. I'm not sharing it to get pity; it's not a pitiable thing - the first few weeks are hard for everyone. I'm sharing it because I know some of you will be new mothers in the not too distant future, and my most unexpected source of support was the new and experienced mothers who texted, e-mailed, and in some cases came out of the woodwork to encourage me, on just a hunch that maybe it wasn't going so smoothly. I learned from their stories - of 5 days on the bili bed, poor milk supply, babies who can't latch, scary postpartum hospital stays - that many, maybe most of us go through this rough patch, and many experience these feelings of inadequacy and despair in the beginning. And it's equally common to feel like you are the only one who has ever struggled with it. A huge THANK YOU to all those women, it meant the world to have people who related to this crazy time. I wasn't even the only one who wanted to throw my stupid rented "hospital grade" pump out the window. It is a huge life transition, the only one that necessarily intersects with intense physiological trauma, and new, raw emotions you never knew existed. And despite what it feels like, it does indeed get better. And it has, a little every day. We still have a lot to learn, but 1 month never looked so good.
Coming up: Father's day, the nursery (finally!) and the highs of month 1, of which there are many! Happy weekend everyone! xo
It's not that we thought it would be easy. I was absolutely expecting it to be hard. The hardest thing I've ever done even. All of you who have done it are nodding along right now. Oh yes it's hard. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do. Of course it is. I guess anticipating it and living it are two different things, and having survived month one, I'm ready to recap. I'll sprinkle some pictures in because I know that's what you're really here to see.
Her first week involved 5 doctor appointments. Eliza came home a little jaundiced, so they wanted to see her on Monday to check her bilirubin levels. Jaundice, of course, is a super common thing, so we weren't too worried. Her levels crept up through the week, and each appointment dictated that she be seen again in a day or two. We got pretty familiar with her new pediatrician. I have no idea what I wore to those appointments, still not moving around too well, and getting the hang of the whole, not being pregnant and figuring out what to wear for breastfeeding thing. I know for a fact I had spit-up in my hair and was running on 2 hours sleep for at least two of them. Oh well, I'm sure they are used to filthy zombies wandering into their offices with precious oblivious babies in tow. My milk, I was told at the hospital, should come in any day now. It didn't. This was making her jaundice much worse, and causing her to drop too much weight, so we had to start supplementing with formula, and to help compensate for her not nursing as much, I needed to pump after every feeding around the clock. We talked and worried about poop, incessantly. I never thought I'd say that.
Four days in, they sent us home with a bili bed, which is essentially this baby tanning bed fitted with a blue light; the phototherapy helps with the jaundice. She was to be on it any time she wasn't nursing. She only cries when she is hungry usually, but she screamed all day, all night long. Torture. I was still in a lot of pain at that point and so couldn't sit with her while she was on the bed, so sweet Nicholas hovered over her much of the day and night, soothing her and trying to keep her calm. Eliza says it was the worst day of her life.
The next day, her levels were just barely good enough to not have to take the bed home for another night. So, so lucky! We figured out around then that the issue with my milk was my anemia, which was labeled severe when I left the hospital and had caused me to have a few fainting spells and be woozy much of the week as well. WHY was I told on one hand my milk should be in any day, and on the other hand I was super anemic? No one put these two together but as soon as I told the pediatrician she was certain that was the cause. We continued to supplement, I to pump droplets of milk, we saw a lactation consultant. Then I saw another one. Her weight continued to drop even after a few days of supplementing. I wept. Poor Miller didn't know what to do. It was a tough few days.
In week two and three, Eliza got so much better. Our little 7 lb daughter was thriving, despite having two green parents who were flying by the seat of their pants and some health issues stacked against her. She is the most perfect little newborn you could ever ask for.
I, on the other hand, started to struggle. The baby blues set in. Not being able to properly nourish my baby, combined with the crazy hormones, health issues, and no sleep, had come together into a fairly effective ambush, and I was feeling in short, like the worst mother ever. My only job was to feed the baby and I was failing. My husband was juggling work, and taking wonderful, perfect care of us; he had been a superdad from day 1. I thought this would come so naturally to me, I was the one who had so much experience with babies. I could change a mean diaper and give baby baths and knew what to do with a blue bulb. But I was overwhelmed; I hated breastfeeding, hated pumping - it all felt so futile and just contributed to my feelings of inadequacy. I started feeling disconnected from my baby, which is, truly, the most awful feeling in the world.
It's something no one talks about too much, at least not in detail, I guess because it's shameful to feel anything besides totally blissful and in love with your new, precious little blessing. Certainly that's what people seem to expect you to feel like. Certainly that's how I felt the first couple of days. Well, it goes without saying that I dearly loved my baby. But the emotional fog that set in was difficult and at times seemed insurmountable. I'd read about it, but living it was unsurprisingly, undeniably different.
I do still feel a little ashamed, and for many I realize this is considered a massive overshare, but I'm talking about it because I said I'd share this part, the honest, ugly, busted side of our little lives with our little one. I'm not sharing it to get pity; it's not a pitiable thing - the first few weeks are hard for everyone. I'm sharing it because I know some of you will be new mothers in the not too distant future, and my most unexpected source of support was the new and experienced mothers who texted, e-mailed, and in some cases came out of the woodwork to encourage me, on just a hunch that maybe it wasn't going so smoothly. I learned from their stories - of 5 days on the bili bed, poor milk supply, babies who can't latch, scary postpartum hospital stays - that many, maybe most of us go through this rough patch, and many experience these feelings of inadequacy and despair in the beginning. And it's equally common to feel like you are the only one who has ever struggled with it. A huge THANK YOU to all those women, it meant the world to have people who related to this crazy time. I wasn't even the only one who wanted to throw my stupid rented "hospital grade" pump out the window. It is a huge life transition, the only one that necessarily intersects with intense physiological trauma, and new, raw emotions you never knew existed. And despite what it feels like, it does indeed get better. And it has, a little every day. We still have a lot to learn, but 1 month never looked so good.
Coming up: Father's day, the nursery (finally!) and the highs of month 1, of which there are many! Happy weekend everyone! xo
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Sleep deprivation --> Chaos
Not too surprisingly, things have unraveled a bit around here. In the past three weeks we've found the mail in the dog food bin (??), and the bread and the ice cream in the refrigerator. Realized the reason the house was so hot was not that the A/C wasn't working properly but because the back door was left wide open for a solid 3 hours. I let the dogs out and wandered off to take care of something, and just never came back. On more than one occasion, dripped salsa, queso, mole sauce, or other varieties of Tex-Mex onto an unsuspecting nursing baby (I'm not proud of this but don't pretend you other moms haven't done it). One of us attempted to put dirty dishes in the washing machine. Both of us have been not quite quick enough with the fresh diaper in the middle of the night - on the bed - and this has consequences. Done that more than once because we like to live dangerously. Oh and forget about having a burp cloth at the ready. Ha. No. We prefer cleaning up projectile spit ups after the fact, thankyouverymuch. Laundry, laundry, oh so much laundry. And these days, all the cabinet doors in the kitchen are perpetually flung wide open, because apparently these days I just can't be bothered to close doors of any kind. If you are brave enough to stop by, we apologize in advance for the slightly disheveled state of our home.
On the bright side, the baby remains well-fed and changed and still quite a happy little thing for the most part, so I guess we are doing something right. And the dogs are still alive last we checked, though with the heat wave (100 for the foreseeable future! Gross) we may need to readjust our plant watering schedule as they are looking a little croaky. Eep. We are managing pretty well, I suppose, under the circumstances. I just wish I had some sort of magic elf following us around shutting doors, picking up where our brains leave off, and keeping things a little more orderly.
(This little love remains oblivious to the chaos):
Hope everyone had a relaxing weekend! We slept. Hallelujah. XO
On the bright side, the baby remains well-fed and changed and still quite a happy little thing for the most part, so I guess we are doing something right. And the dogs are still alive last we checked, though with the heat wave (100 for the foreseeable future! Gross) we may need to readjust our plant watering schedule as they are looking a little croaky. Eep. We are managing pretty well, I suppose, under the circumstances. I just wish I had some sort of magic elf following us around shutting doors, picking up where our brains leave off, and keeping things a little more orderly.
Hope everyone had a relaxing weekend! We slept. Hallelujah. XO
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
First photo shoot
I really love babies in their purest state. Here is little Miss Eliza Louise, 5 days into this world:
More from this photoshoot to come tomorrow! xo
More from this photoshoot to come tomorrow! xo
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Homeward bound
Somehow heading home was emotional for me. It's those stupid crazy hormones I know, but I burst into tears as we packed up to leave. So much anticipation and build-up to the birth and that time in the hospital, and it was over - time to resume our lives again. We were leaving with a very precious parting gift:
Who, we quickly learned does not particularly appreciate being put in her carseat, but picking it up, to quote her father, is like hitting a mute button:
Maybe she's screaming because her bonnet is sliding around on her head?
Above: the mute button effect, and what happens to your face after delivering a baby and two sleepless nights in the hospital.
We gingerly wound our way home at a much slower pace than we'd come at 5 AM two nights before, and began the process of becoming a harmonious family of five. One dog likes the baby but doesn't really understand her, and is going to take some time adjusting (I type this a week and a half out and we're not quite there yet...). The other one appears to be fairly oblivious that anything has changed. I'll let you figure out which is which.
Being home has been wonderful and hard. As our pediatrician put it, an exceptionally difficult first two weeks with a newborn. Our health issues combined into a bit of an ambush resulting in 6 total appointments from last Monday to today. We're pretty tired of appointments (though we've gotten the hang of getting out of the house!). That said, as newborns go, Miss Eliza seems to be an exceptionally good baby; she has made every bump a little less shaky for these two rookies. And we love her for it.
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