It's... wonderful.

Parenthood, that is.
For every blissful day, there are 3 sleepless nights leaving mom and dad d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g.
Yesterday we went to the Science Museum (located right here in Richmond). I brought the camera but didn't take any photos 'cause, frankly, it sucked. When you live in the state capital... which is located right next to our nation's capital... you notice that people just don't bother to put anything cool in your city. Cool bands, exciting events, amazing museums and traveling shows always hit DC over Richmond. Its only 100 miles north of us. Its sad, too, because our Science Museum is located in the main train station from the very early 1900's—a very cool building. But the poor graphics, hand-me-down displays, outdated tutorials and dim lighting made me feel like we attended someone's basement hobby. I dragged Rob & Evie through every inch of that place for over 2hrs for two reasons: to ensure I never bother to attend again after seeing it all during this trip and to STAY OUT OF THE HOUSE! I'm so housebound...
We are trying to switch up Evie's sleep cycle to more closely match those of a HUMAN BEING and not a BAT. After aggressively waking & keeping her awake the day before yesterday... we left ourselves with a real hodge-podge feeding schedule (yes, hodge-podge). So, the morning before the museum I think she ate every 2-3 hours instead of her old every 4 hr routine. Getting out of the house with her fed, happy and alert was virtually impossible. So, we settled for fed and happy. When we got to the museum, she was in and out of sleep the whole time. Evie was not happy with this at all.
Evie was so unhappy with our manipulations that it resulted in her crying regularly all evening long. She couldn't be consoled. She would eagerly take the pacifier to soothe herself, roll her eyes back into her head and then drop the pacifier within 10 minutes... crying. What does one do in this instance?
After we each had a beer and dad moved onto mixed drinks, I tried nursing her (yes, I waited 2 hrs before nursing). The problem with the nursing/formula feedings that I am doing is that I have NO IDEA what she is getting when nursing. Within the hour, she was acting hungry again. She took maybe 2-3 oz more of formula after fussing for more to eat. She was challenging to get down but finally crashed out by 7PM. BUT, we had to wake her at 9PM to keep up with getting her on our sleep schedule. One that doesn't leave mom feeling like a zombie bitch and one that doesn't leave dad throwing things while contemplating if he really does want to be a "family man".
Evie had nothing to do with being up at 9PM. A forced 2.5oz later, she went down. Hell, she was never up and ate in her sleep if you ask me.
She is SUPPOSED to then wake between 1-2AM, eat, and then wake up at 6:30AM to be nursed.
She ACTUALLY woke at 1AM, ate, and then woke up at 4AM. We pulled her into bed with us and tried to coax her back to sleep. Around 5:30AM, Rob was about to walk out on us. Walk out on me for being so pig-headed as to try to get a schedule to adhere and walk out on Evie for the consistent grumbling, kicking and gurgling (she tends to grunt the last few hours of the night. She isn't quite awake but probably wants to be. She tends to leave her eyes tightly shut and just kind of squirms until we pick her up signaling its time to get up. She's done this since birth). I stomp my feet into the kitchen to make a bottle of formula (keep in mind, I have always nursed at 6:30AM). I feed her lying down in bed and she sucks down 5oz. I burp her—nothing. I lay her down and *brap!*, she gets sick all over. Now we are really going to scream. In fact, I do have a meltdown.
Dad takes baby to change her while I huff in circles around the house. I want to go back to bed and yet don't want to dump all this on Rob. Then again, I do want to dump all this on him cause I can't handle it this morning.
Rob picks her up to put her down again. *brap!*, all over herself AND him.
*Fwap!*, Rob throws his shirt against the wall and begins to change her outfit again. I get up to do laundry... trying to "help".
We realize she is just up for the day and Rob goes in the living room to watch TV with her. Its 6AM.
I lie in bed unable to sleep from shear exhaustion coupled with a hot brain.
Around 7:15AM I hear her crying. She had fallen asleep but was up again.
I get up to pump (cause I didn't get to nurse at 6:30AM. 4oz, not bad. Maybe I can occasionally still supplement formula with breastmilk afterall. I'm thinking of this as the equivalent of a $5 coupon off a can of formula). Evie is having nothing to do with sleeping. She had fallen asleep on Rob's chest but was now up, again. We tried laying her in her crib from 7:30-8:15AM. She wanted to sleep - she is so tired. But would spit out the pacifier and wail. I finally went in to rock her to sleep. It was difficult but finally worked. She cried again at 9AM. What. the. hell?!.
Rob warms a bottle cause we do not know what else to do. I get her medication ready and we go in their armed to find out what she needs. Get this, she's out cold.
*sigh*
Half hour later, up again! I feed her the medicine and 5oz bottle. We then play before bathing her at 11AM... cause now I am noticing she is developing excema on her one cheek and is rubbing it feverishly. The pediatrician tells me to keep it clean and free of oils (I had just finished putting baby oil all over her face before I call the doctor, hence the 11AM bathtime).
One bath and 1 hr nap later... she's up! We don't know what the hell to do. Feed her? Why not! 3 oz later and she is wanting nothing more to eat and is awake.
Why do I feel like she is newborn ALL OVER AGAIN?

8 weeks

Dear Evie,
Phew! 2 months (well, 8 weeks. You'll "offically" be 2 months in another week. Let's not get ahead of ourselves...) have flown by.
I have been working on your baby book little by little these last few weeks 'cause, let's be honest, it will never be touched once I return to work. I was entering in some details about the "things you do" at 1 month old... and I have already forgotten. My mind is cloudy - I am in a babyland fog. I can't remember when you did what or why we came up with the nickname "birdie" for you (its becuase you made chirping sounds all the time but I can't for the life of me remember wht they sounded like).
I find this forgetfulness funny and sad. Its all moving so quickly and my foggy brain is trying to protect me for realizing just how fast it is all going.
Evie getting ready to go to grandma/pa's house. 6.5 weeks.
Besides the obvious milestones you have accomplished at this point—you have succeeded in many other things worth mentioning.
First off, you are quickly becoming the chunka-chunk your mom was when she was a baby. Topping the scales at 10lbs/14oz's at last check up (Friday)... you started at a humble 7lbs/5oz's just 8 little weeks ago. You dropped a pound at first but rebounded a nearly 5lb gain in 2 months time. Holy. Moly. One would think you grew a lot during this time to justify such weight gain. Not really. You grew 2.5 inches. A modest sum.
You outgrew the cute hand-me-down onesies Duncan passed your way. No longer in the "newborn" category, you are able to wear the occasional 3-6 month variety. Yes, you are still in your 0-3 month onesies - you aren't that huge... but I am really surprised how one day it fits and the next day it doesn't. If only adult girls would relish in the joy of moving up sizes as rapidly as you are.
Grandpa and Evie You started sleeping long stretches of time when we went to visit grandma/pa last weekend. Mom and dad even got a chance to get out and watch a movie together —first time we have left you anywhere. It was a perfect weekend, really. Then we drove home (a bit of a hellish drive with filthy bathrooms to change your poopy diaper & trying to warm a bottle that ended up not being enough for you to eat). The night we got home was filled with endless crying (from all of us) as we wanted to return to the grandparent's house where everything was delightfully wonderful for 3 days.
Your long stretches of sleep slowly became long stretches of afternoon till midnight stretches. Then you'd wake up at 12AM, 3AM, 5 AM and 7 AM. As for the time in between; you would fuss for over an hour constantly dropping your pacifier. It was a rather brutal week last week. By this past weekend, after seeing the pediatrician on Friday, I decided to start waking you up (everyone keeps telling me to not wake a sleeping baby but won't tell me why) and to keep you up as long as I can during the day. It seems to be working... but I can't get you to sleep those 5 hr stretches at all anymore. It would be so wondeful if you only had 1 night feeding, but 2 isn't so bad I s'pose. Its the 10 minute cycles of fussing for your pacifier all-night-long that kills me anyway.
You went to the auto dealer with us last week and you were an angel. You hung out with daddy for hours while he fed you a bottle and then drove you around till you slept. We all slept great that night. We were all drunk with the exhaustion of negotiating all day long I guess. Maybe we need to go out and make asset draining purchases more regularly so we can all have great nights of sleep. In any case, your car seat fits in the new Jeep wonderfully and mom no longer slams her head into your car seat handle trying to fit you in & out a tight space. Its magical.
You've been mastering the silent smile these last few weeks. You open this big gappy mouth of yours in reaction to our smiles. It really DOES... melt my heart. You make this quiet breathy sound when you open your mouth, too. Its really so cute. The whole room was silent when you first did it one morning and I... was.. hooked. I keep trying to capture it on camera (a quick movie) but you give me blank stares when I put this shiny metal box into your face and then the moment is gone. I hope I never forget it if I can't capture it.
Evie discovering her gym You don't quite "play" yet. You enjoy watching. You are better at sitting on my lap and simply observing for longer & longer stretches of time. You did "see" yourself in the mirror of your activity gym 2 days ago and instantly shined. You're getting there. We just have to remember to teach you HOW to play. We are starting to pull things out each day to see what you enjoy. So far, it isn't much or for very long.
Today I tried to soak all of you in. I really tried playing my heart out with you and I held you longer than I have in awhile. You feel asleep in my arms while at a coffee shop and you feel asleep in the sling/carrier before dinner. I gave you a bath and sucked in the smell of your head after daddy calmed you down (you HATE baths). After your doctor mentioned the many things you are going to accomplish in just 8 more weeks... I am trying to slow this train down and thoroughly enjoy the things you do today (yes, even the yucky stuff like fussing or the boring stuff like staring at ceiling fans. What's with that, anyway?). Someday soon you will be a little toddler and all these baby "annoyances" will have disappeared. You'll be wanting to explore and crawl/walk away from me. You'll make huge baby food messes and you'll drool on everything. Today's mishaps will seem like a walk in the park then. I need to hold you tight now while I can before you want to kick off and play like I taught you how to do. Good thing you are teaching me... how to slow down.
Love, Mom

Breastfeeding

Well, I've made my decision. And, I STILL need to talk myself into this.
I've decided to ween Evie.
Why?
'Cause I am a horribly, horribly selfish person. I am not thinking about the benefits for Evie at all. Nor am I considering the family budget (formula is ex$pensive!). I'm not thinking about the work I have done to get myself to this state - the lactation consultant I had to go see, the mastering of the pump, the having no problems at all with Evie latching... the fact that I am a nursing master (aside from doing it in public). I am not thinking about what I should probably be thinking about in making this final of final decisions.
No. I'm thinking about... convenience.
I can't have more than 1 caffeine drink a day or its no good for baby. And sometimes, I'd like a strong cup of grande coffee after having nothing of the sort during those 9 months of pregnancy.
I want to be able to GO SOMEWHERE... anywhere... and not freak out about returning home to baby within 3 hours time. Or she'll starve. Or Rob will tap into my precious vault of 5 frozen bags of milk reserved for extreme occasions.
I want to be able to switch off with Rob for midnight feedings so at least one of us can enjoy a full night's sleep.
I want to be able to have more than 1 glass of wine after I have uncorked the bottle I am about to throw out in 3 days... 'cause I can't drink it all before it goes bad.
I want to be able to wear non-nursing friendly layered tops. Any top that I don't have to worry about dribbling on.
I want to no longer freak out about taking Evie out for the day, on a roadtrip, to a restuarant, to the store... fearing she may need to be nursed and I have to find a location to sit in for half an hour.
I want someone else to enjoy watching her eat and light up with a huge, happy smile after her belly is full. And I want me to be off continuing whatever activity it was I was doing at that time... without having to stop and feed.
I no longer want a sticky body. I no longer want to either feed or pump or suffer the consequences. I don't want to FIND somewhere to pump at my 3,000 employee establishment that, apparently, only has 1 wellness room for all pumping mothers to use one-at-a-time (and have to pump 2-3 times a day in that room on the first floor when I work on the 4th. I have to carry a big black bag down the elevator each time? I'd rather die, thank you).
I'm selfish.
I'm horrible.
I am next to tears at the thought that I am doing this.
I should be nursing cause I can. I should be nursing cause she loves it, I have no "real" problems with it, and its great for baby's health. I should be thinking of Evie's best interest and needs over my own. God, what a horrible mother I am turning out to be. And yet, I really cannot stand the thought of returning to work and pumping. I really want the freedom of not having to worry,"Can I eat this/take this/drink this while I am nursing?"
Somebody please tell me this is either the hormones making me feel so quilty or society's pressures that I am feeling.
Somebody please tell me that in 2-3 months this will all be yet another stage I have moved passed, problem-free, and that this is really a blip in the many things that await us.
Somebody please tell me that I am not a horrible, horrible person.

Mexican, Ole!

Rob and I tried to go out to dinner to a new neighborhood restaurant a few weeks ago. Evie awoke beforehand and remained terribly fussy, so we opted for a family restaurant instead.
We tried this neighborhood adventure again, last Saturday. We got dressed up (basically wore shirts with no spit-up on the shoulders) and strolled the mile out to the restuarant in mid-afternoon ('cause then there'd be less people to bother if she did cry). We arrived sweaty, thirsty and ... we were greeted by a "closed" sign. Son-uva-bitch.
We walked home and decided to throw Evie in the car to go to "Mexico" instead.
The SECOND I crossed the threshold of the restaurant, Evie pooped. Fantastic!
I carry the car seat (with Evie in it) to the bathroom and bring the diaper bag with us. There's only 1 other couple and an older guy eating in the whole establishment. I walk into the bathroom and the woman (from the other couple) is in there brushing her teeth.
"I know this is kinda gross, but I have to go to work right after this," she spits.
"Well, I have to change this kid on the counter since there's no changing station." I tell her.
"OK, that's more gross," she opens the door to leave but not before finishing, "You know, I was in this Mexican restaurant in Houston once, and this woman started breast-feeding in the middle of the place! No thank you! That's gross."
Door closes.
I look at Evie who is starting to get fussy since she's been disturbed so much. She is, ...now hungry.
"Looks like we are eating in the bathroom stall, Eve." I pick her up.
I leave the car seat on the counter and bring her & the messenger bag into the VERY TINY stall. The kind of VERY TINY stall where you can barely close the door without knocking your knees. And, since I am juggling a very flooby 6-week-old, I can't check the cleanliness of the seat before I just sit down on it. *sigh*. I really hope I didn't just sit, in my skirt, on a seat full of pee (or worse).
Evie does the red-faced grimmace (the slow... CRY! Cry! Cry! That comes when you've ignored her gentle sobs long enough). I quickly lift up my shirt and get her settled (her feet kicking against the stall door as she gulps).
I reach for my cell phone in the bag on the floor.
"Hi."
"What's going on in there?" Rob eats a chip.
"Well, it turned into a fiasco."
"I thought it might have," Rob takes a sip of a drink.
"Just get me a water and I'll be there as quick as I can."
"Take your time," *crunch*, another chip eaten.
*click*
I pop Evie off before she gets her fill, 'cause this could take up to 30 minutes after feeding on both sides, burping, etc etc. I really don't want anyone else coming in imparting their nursing "horror stories" while I dominate the stall.
Evie is agitated and I give her the pacifier ("A poor excuse for a boob, mom," she shoots me a look).
I settle in the booth and this is what I get from her. Ah, that's my girl...

(Note: the $#@*! onesie was created for me by some gal-pals during a baby shower game. even MORE appropriate given the photo's subject matter)

24 Hours, cont...

I was going to write in the "comments" field of my last post but had far too much to say to deem a comment)

We have received MANY ideas for putting Evie to sleep (yikes, that sounds a little too much like euthanasia ... we aren't quite there, yet).
I've heard the swing, white noise, vibrating anything (crib mattress or chairs), car rides and letting her sleep on your chest.
I still keep worrying that if any of these ideas DO work we'll be setting us up for disaster (like she'll ALWAYS have to have a magic vibrating bed to fall asleep). But maybe I need to let go of these notions cause they are holding me back?
I did read about some theories on colic and colic behavior yesterday in my "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" book. I don't know if we could truly call Evie "colic-y" but this doctor says all babies are colic-y with 20% presenting themselves as SEVERE colic. He thinks the nightime crying/fussing is a form of colic that all babies endure until the peak of 6-8 weeks old when it begins to decline. (Evie is 5 weeks and 2 days old). This, somehow, comforted me. Maybe it was knowing that I was part of a medical "norm" factor soothed me a bit.
I also called the lactation consultant last night because another one of my theories was that Evie, is in fact, starving at night and cannot sleep because she is hungry. (Thanks to C for reminding me to call her). Let me begin by telling you all that my consultant thinks I'm an idiot. No, really she does. I think she's great - she knows what she is doing and how to handle me (not a lot of professionals have the patience that I demand). And, the fact that she thinks I'm a moron doesn't bother me in the slightest - cause I AM one in the motherhood/boob-feeding department. I really do need things spelled out for me.
Linda, my consultant, had to remind me again that I need to relax, take naps, drink more fluids (hell, I drink coffee on our power walks in the 90 degree heat. I'm horrible at drinking water), and that Evie is probably doing 2 things: experiencing a growth spurt AND cluster feeding. Linda told me to stick with it - her demands will eventually get my body to make more and to just "ride out the storm". This type of night is not over... it will get better... and it will return again in the future. Just be prepared for it.
Sound advice.
I fed Evie almost every hour/ hour-and-a-half last night without wanting to leave her on the front porch with a "Take Me" sign. I, actually, felt sorry for her and I quit hating/holding it against her. I tolerated the wah-wah's and chaulked them up to it being hard for her... not that she wants to make it hard for me. This outlook REALLY did help overall and she quieted down by 10:30/10:45PM (yes, with the help of a swing, pacifier and a few close holding sessions). She then slept for 4.5 hours, ate & was awake for 1 hour, and then fell back to sleep for another 4 hours.
So, who knows. All I know is I want that 10-12 hour night sleep Meg is talking about. ;-)
Thanks everyone for the thoughts, ideas and well-wishes. It all helps me & keeps me from going completely crazy. Misery loves company even if you all are onto the next stage & no longer as miserable as me, ha!

24 hours

A called and said that it seemed, from my blog, everything was going smoother. That, in general, we seemed to be getting he hang of things and adjusting well.
I wouldn't say "smoother". I do think we are adjusting, however. Adjusting to operating on 3-4 collective hours of sleep a night, no longer being able to stick to one activity for over an hour, waking up earlier than the rest of the world because baby is WIDE AWAKE, tolerating endless hours of non-stop screaming following multiple pacifier drops, poop stripes that seep onto onesies (and you), and striping off one outfit a day due to projectile spit-ups.
Take the last 24 hours, for example:
Wake up at 6:15AM to Evie being hungry. Feed her and try to coax her back to bed just so mommy & daddy can walk amoungst the living after a horrible ALL NIGHT LONG crying fit. (Brief backstory: She had finally settled around 3AM and the 3 hours of sleep last night wasn't cutting it for us.) She did eventually go back to sleep and I woke up at 8:15AM to get ready for a "crafty brunch" at K's house.
I showered and got on make-up before the next feeding. Fed the baby again (and then pumped because I am desperately trying to create a 3oz bottle to freeze for emergency back-up & for when I return to work). Grabbed her baby book (this will have to be my "craft" at today's brunch), reloaded the diaper bag, got Evie in the carry case, grabbed some fruit I had bought for the brunch, load the car and... we're off! It is now 10:48AM. It took me nearly 3 hours to get our sh*t together.
Spent 3 and a half hours at K's. We ate once while there and we are ready for another feeding when mom decides to leave. We pooped twice and wouldn't really settle down unless held by mom. We are cute and interactive for a brief window and everything is OK (I never even opened the baby book).
Home at 2:45PM to eat and sleep. Mom naps at 4PM after fussy baby fights sleep for half an hour.
Mom wakes up at 5:15PM to make dinner, eat, and feed dogs. Baby is up at 6:30PM to eat. Feed baby. Baby is wide awake and doesn't like being idle... at all. So, we go for a walk with her in a baby carrier strapped to dad while Betty takes mom for a walk.
Storm ensues and we get home by 7:15PM.
Baby is awake after dozing on the walk. And she is... pissy. Not fussy, pissy. Time somehow elapses until 8PM when the Steelers are on... and baby is really starting up by now. I try feeding her again, this helps. But then she starts again. Dad tries consoling her while watching the game. This, doesn't a happy baby make.
By 9PM, I take Evie to the bedroom where I settle her on the bed with one dim light and no other stimulation. She cries non-stop. By 9:20PM, I try nursing her, AGAIN. This helps but then we start in with the crying, again. There's crying in between all the pacifier drops (this is like, every 10 minutes or so). Her cries aren't whimpers either. They are all out "wahs!"
By 10:30PM, mom is pissed off, too, and lets the baby scream. This, doesn't work, and begins to irritate mom. Mom sticks the pacifier in her mouth (baby sobs while sucking feverishly) and mom rocks the car seat (her bed since her "acid reflux" diagnosis) for 15 minutes. Baby sleeps. Mom stops rocking. Baby spits out pacifier and "WAHs!!!!" God. Dammit.
Mom whips out a boob - its her last defense and baby acts like she hasn't eaten in DAYS (again, its been 1 hour. The same time duration between the last 4 feedings. I have nothing but dust to offer at this point).
Evie sucks maybe 5X's in a minute... and is out cold. What... the... hell... is this? I leap for the lamp and go to sleep, too. I don't even bother telling Rob (who's on the couch). He's just going to miss out on sleep - not my fault.
Evie acually "sleeps" - she wakes 4 hours later for a feeding and then 4 hours again after that. Who-hoo!
BUT, when mom feeds baby at 6:15AM this morning (sitting up in bed propped up against her two bed pillows), Evie BLEECHS! all down the back of mom... onto her shirt, shorts, both pillows and yes, the bed. God. Dammit.
So much for "sleeping in" to make up for last nights all night long belly-aching.
Mom puts on her trainers and hikes around the neighborhood with the stroller for over an hour instead.
Another day has begun...

4 Weeks Old

4 weeks. 1 month. How do you count these things? Weeks and months never match up (40 weeks pregnant = 10 months... not 9, people).
So, Evie is 4 weeks today and will, officially, be 1 month on August 2nd (Thursday).
But let's celebrate this milestone, whatever it may be.
Evie has changed in just 4 weeks time.
We have no problems latching on, or eating, for that matter. In fact, we stay awake while eating (which, is fantastic that I don't have to keep prodding her to finish up) and she wraps things up in 10 minutes on each side. We do still spit-up but the medicine is helping cut down on the volume of spit-up. Plus, we are getting used to having to strip out of our clothes and get a fresh shirt before the next feeding.
Evie opens her eyes more & for longer periods of time and has, very recently, began to follow things. She'll STARE at the ceiling fan with a bit of recognition at its motion. She watches your hand move across her field of vision and will sometimes smile at the delight of it. No longer cross-eyed or wall-eyed, we are seeing the world with stronger eyes.
Evie can turn her head from side to side while laying on her stomach. She may whine/squeal while she flips her head to the sound of your voice... but she will do it. This 5 minute feat pretty much wraps up tummy-time. We are generally burnt out at this point.
Evie has also gotten more demanding on our time. No longer happy "left for dead" in her swing... she wants to be held and wants you to MOVE AROUND THE HOUSE while you are holding her. This, can get trying at times (like when I have to eat or pee or shower).
Evie's slipping in some semblance of a routine. I know "about when" she'll be awake and when she'll be sleeping the most. She tends to wake up like clockwork every 3.5 hours at night... and will let us put a pacifier in her mouth to buy just 10 more minutes of sleep (like a snooze button, really).
In the early morning (after a 5AM or 6AM feeding) we tend to pull her into bed with us to keep her from springing alive too early. We'll all fall asleep and wake up 3 hours later to her stretching her limbs out as far as she can while grunting and twisting. Its like sharing the bed with a miniature old man, really. This... doesn't cease to crack us up.
Evie chirps like a bird when alert, grunts when eating, and "wah-wah's" when you need to be doing something, anything, differently.
She still poops... frequently. She recently began farting & burps a deep, caverness belch.
Evie, is still a lot of work, but I'm beginning to understand the job a wee bit more and I am really enjoying the company of this little co-worker.

Ghetto-Ass Mobile

So, I thought mobiles were a complete waste of money. Turns out, many other things I registered for were. The mobile is actually a great item to have - I should have registered for one afterall.
Two of my friends (and fellow moms) made mobiles for their kids & I followed their lead.
Babies really do not "see" how much more spectacular an $89.99 musical mobile is verses a paper one fueled by the breeze of the overhead ceiling fan. This is a good thing about infants. When they are attending kindergarten - the appreciation for low-budget can change dramatically and you are suddenly spending more money thanks to classmates with rich (or spoiling) parents. So, for now, craft-time it is!
I spent a few hours concocting this made-from-scratch mobile yesterday morning. I had to create the graphics, individually cut them out... I then had to get soda straws and fishing line... get it to all balance out. Finally, Rob hung it tonight after Evie spent 12 intoxicating minutes staring at the living room ceiling fan.
"Rob! Look at this! I've never seen her so fascinated by anything for this long! You've got to hang that mobile! We are missing the window of opportunity here!"
I then ask him to take a picture of her watching it (and I was kinda proud of my craft project, low budget as it may be).
Rob says after the click of the camera, "Evie and her ghetto-ass mobile."
Thanks, honey. Thanks a lot.
Turd.

The perfect maternity leave day

Early feeding at 5:30AM and curl back into bed (all 3 of us) until the alarm goes off at 7:45AM. Setting the alarm gives me the opportunity to get dressed, brush my teeth! (a luxury these days), make coffee and then feed the baby again before marching outside for our morning stroll.
Walk to CVS to buy nail polish (I can now update my pedicure!).
Get home in time to clean the back patio and pull out a lawn chair from the basement.
Make mini sandwiches, grab a cool limeade and head outdoors to lay out in the sun with Harry Potter (yes, I wore my 10-year-old ill-fitting bikini and it barely covered the girls. I didn't care in the least).
An hour later, just a few minutes to cool off... hit the showers. Shampoo AND shave my legs.
Get out in time to feed a grumpy baby... and then watch her drift back to sleep.
Work on Rob's website for a short while and then curl up for an hour-long (motionless) nap. (I could have slept for another hour).
Wake up to feed baby and then make dinner (Mexican complete with a real beer and gaucomole, mmm!)
Clean up kitchen, time to blog and wait for final feeding before hitting the sheets tonight. (Evie will probably eat twice before calling it a night around 11PM).

Also worth noting - Evie didn't spit up once today (she did after every feeding only 2 days ago). Maybe my cutting her off before she gets too full is helping? Maybe moving her more slowly is working? Maybe the fact that I am eating more these days (instead of going for hours starving). Maybe the medicine has suddenly decided to start working? Maybe I need to just keep my fingers crossed and stop asking why....

All in all - an excellent day for mom.
And, I plan to recreate it again soon!

Size 1

"Evie gets weighed this Friday at the pediatrician. I bet she's over 8lbs now."

"I hope she's over 9."

"Really? Why?"

"Size 1 diapers."

"So?"

"Size 1's, they hold more."

"What's your point? That you can change her less often?"

"Well, yeah!"

"It doesn't work like that. Its not like there's an extra compartment in the size 1's where all the poo is whisked away from her butt and stored until you feel like changing her."

"There's not?"

Thumbsucker Vs. Pacifier

Yet another great debate - which habit is a worse habit? Which one is harder to break and which one will result in tears & frustration when I try and break it?
Now, I was a fore-finger sucker. Yes, the first finger. I would turn my finger upside down in my mouth (nail side down) and wave/curl my fingers as I sucked, sucked, sucked. I asked my mom when I stopped and how she broke the habit... apparently I decided for myself by announcing, "I 'm a big girl and I don't suck my fingers anymore!" Sounds like me, doesn't it? Gawd I was a strangely responsible child. I don't truly think I ever was a child... but that's a topic for another day.
Evie came out with the power to suck like one of those fish you see cleaning the insides of the tank at Red Lobster's. She would adhere to the sides of her hospital bassinet, the nurse's arm, people's necks and anyone's shirt. I also caught her shoving her fist in her mouth in the first few days and the nurse squealed, "Oh! A thumbsucker! I love thumbsuckers!"
I immediately gave her a pacifier.
Why?
Cause somehow it seemed a much easier habit to break. Plus, all those germs she'll have on her hands after a day in the store, at the park, using the potty - bleech! Somehow the pacifier I could control (like, a parent can truly control sucking behavior in any form. Yet another lesson I am learning more about - you cannot control behaviors, period. You can merely steer them one way or another and you can't do any of that with a newborn so quit trying) and regulate and clean.
After getting her a wee bit more attached to the pacifier verses her thumb - I THEN decided to read up on it. Turns out, they both have pros and cons...and neither is better than the other. The main pro-thumb I am noticing - the pacifier falls out so you gotta get up to stick it back in. Aw, geez does this stink at 2AM! Plus, parents tend to force the pacifier on their kids like a plug... and they create the habit it will become. Most kids naturally outgrow the comfort of sucking between 3-6 months (and most parents keep sticking in the pacifier at night to get kids to sleep & to comfort themselves). Hmmm, maybe I need to facilitate the thumb afterall.
So, I started sticking Eve's fist into her mouth at the 2AM wake-up until Rob would go nutso with the crying... and then I'd ultimately give her the pacifier. But, its seems to be working. She is getting better at finding her thumb and not simply bonking herself in the head again and again FRANTICALLY trying to get her thumb in her mouth (its funny and sad - she really does get SO frustrated trying to reach her thumb. We have to pull her hands down and give her a pacifier before she completely melts down in frustration with her lack of coordination).
So, here we are toddling between two worlds - one where she finds her own thumb if we don't answer her grunts fast enough and one where we give her a pacifier just after feedings in the middle of the night. I no longer care which one she decides to prefer (why not either/or?). She'll do what she wants to do and I have to stop trying to interfere in order to make her life (well, MY life) more organized and perfect. After all, I sucked my finger and was allowed to decide for myself. I should let her do the same.

Acid Reflux

Well, the MIL left last week Thursday (on a 7:50AM flight... poor thing then had to endure a delay which caused her connecting flight in Chicago to go on without her... her 3 hour trip quickly became an all-day-long adventure).
Evie and I were determined to see grandma off, so we got up early, ate and left with the group. We got back home just in time for her next feeding.
Now, backstory: just 2 days prior to this, Evie projectile upchucked nearly all the contents of her stomach shear moments after I finished feeding her. Rob and the MIL ran to my aide to then witness the huge amounts of milk that tumbled out of her and they heard the gasp-gasp-gasping sounds she was making. It was all very upsetting. MIL offered to then take her and I fixed a bottle... she seemed hungry after emptying out everything in her belly. As soon as she got the bottle, (she's not very good with a bottle and she makes it get all drippy) she started gasping and choking again. The MIL referred to it as "strangling on the bottle," which, sounds even more horrible than "choking," if you ask me. The whole scene was very upsetting and we gave up on the bottle all together. Eve eventually settled into a nap.
Fast forward to the day MIL flies out and we are back home feeding. Same thing happens,... again. Puke everywhere. The gasping, the red-faced look of holding her breath, the new mom freaking out screaming for Rob to DO sometthing... anything! And right now!
We cleaned her up and Rob left a VM with the pediatrician. I just know that something is wrong. They return the call after opening for business and we set the appointment for 9:15AM. The nurse takes a look at me, "You need sleep!"
Um, thanks. Stating the obvious, aren't we?
Evie weighs in at 7lbs 13 ounces. This kid has packed on 9 ounces in just 6 days. I'm realizing she may be a chub-chub-chub very soon. This thought makes me laugh.
Eve and I wait for the doctor. She's in a diaper & wrapped in a blanket. I rock/bounce her around the room. Suddenly, "Bleech!" The kid upchucks what mostly looks like water with a little spit up. I run out to grab the nurse so now she can SEE why we are here. Does she have a bug? Is she sick? OMG, I'm a horrible mom for dragging a 2 week old out in public...
The diagnosis? Acid Reflux.
Damned.
We now have to dismantle the hammock-swing she has been sleeping in (Sorry D + C... thanks for loaning it to us for the last 2 weeks. Oh well). She must be kept at a 45degree angle (sleep in a car seat or the swing) and constantly burped. Oh, and she has a prescription for "Axid" which she takes twice a day (the Target phramacy chick says, "If she doesn't like its bubble-gum flavor, we can reflavor it for free." "Um, yeah, she's 2 weeks old... she doesn't know what bubble gum... or cherry or grape is. But thanks, I'll letcha know.").
This... sucks.
Mom and dad are not realizing any joys to parenting.
Evie fusses furiously now just after eating. She squirms and cries and fights off sleep. We burp-burp-BURP her to no avail. Twenty minutes after she falls asleep, "Bleech!" she'll spill all over her clothes (or me or the chair or anything in the milk volcano's pathway). Then we strip everything down and start over. Now Eve's wide awake and crying at full volume and we start all over with the rocking, the bouncing, the burping and consoling. Actually, the consoling is becoming more and more of a "Give up and just give her a pacifier!" moment. Just last night we had a 2 hour ordeal which left us with 1 hour of sleep before the next feeding. *sigh*
I know, I know - this is fairly common. And yes, I know - I know, our problem is nothing compared to the very many things out there that are far worse. But, for some reason, your personal cross to bear ALWAYS seems worse than those around you who have larger, more akward crosses. Rob and I are just needing more signs of this being that "rewarding experience" we've heard so much about. Don't get me wrong - yes, we love her. And yes, she is adorable when out cold napping, happily nursing or awake & interactive. But the choking is unGodly scary (and making us stressed-out basketcases), the spitting up is wearing us out (when will she upchuck and can we risk taking her out in public or will she choke? Did I mention the pediatrician told me what to do if she turns blue? Not something you want to hear as a new mother...), and the hours of coaxing her back to sleep is wearing us thin.
I'm looking forward to this "phase" to wear itself out. And to think, just last week I was lamenting that she took 45 minutes to feed... now she is down in 20/25 minutes but cries for 45 minutes afterward. Oh, what, WHAT is the next phase?

Belly Button

Today, I pulled off your onesie to discover... that you finally had a belly button. Milestones, baby, milestones...

Admit it. You wanted to see it.

I wanted to know what T's C-Section looked like a day & a half after she had hers. I was so curious. I know WHERE they cut you and that they slice you across hip to hip... but what did it LOOK like? I don't think she shares my fascination with the bizarre, borderline gross, things involving biological science. She told me, "Maybe later."
My whole pregnancy was like a science lab experiment so it only seemed fitting that I'd see her fresh scar to complete my vision of what one type of labor & delivery looked like. This was also when I thought I'd never have a cesarean in a million years. I didn't think I'd get to share her experince firsthand. So, turns out I was wrong it and it was best she never showed me. The look of it is slightly frankenstein-ish... but, honestly, I think I'd do it again if/when we have kid #2. The experience was better than I imagines and, from what I hear, less pain than a vaginal birth. Sure, recovery sucks, but so do hemorroids from straining for hours and hours on end, right?
So, for my fellow "horror" lovers - here's photos. Cause there's nothing I love more than living unique life experiences - its documenting it all, too.

I think all doctors approach C-Sections differently. Mine used staples. Some use dissolvable sutures and some use glue (T said that's what she had). This photo was taken right after they removed the VERY ADHESIVE gauze bandage (that ripped off my skin! This hurt the worst of all...) the day after surgery.
The staples were removed (fearfully, but surprisingly, painlessly) the day we went home. This is 3 days post-op. Heals fast, huh? Who would have thunk it?

New family portraits

Here's a photo of us (3!) the day we left the hospital on Thursday July 5th. This was actually a nice photo - how often do you approve of everyone smiling & looking at the camera with their eyes open? Well, OK, maybe not ALL of us - Evie's eyes remained shut for the better part of 23hrs a day at this time. The fact that she isn't looking for food is photo opportunity enough for me.

The other photo was taken the day my mom left - Friday the 13th. Evie's 11 days old. She actually had a decent morning allowing us to sleep in (she fed at 5:30AM but I returned to bed for an hour). She let me shower AND put on make-up... and then she remained AWAKE for photos. Who-hoo! We piled outside to take advantage of this short-lived moment.

I'm finding that each day is COMPLETELY different than the one just before. There is no rhyme or reason to anything these days. Sometimes she sleeps and I have to wake her every 3 hours just to eat (at night we just her go and she generally is on a 3.5 hr. feeding cycle). Sometimes she fusses on/off for the better part of 2 hours with half-assed, sporadic feedings filling in 5-10 minute gaps.
I keep looking for a pattern of behavior (Does she eat around the same time day by day? Does she go to bed around the same hour so I can plan my night's sleep?) but there really isn't supposed to be one right now. This is a comforting thought to know that my kid is "average" and on target with the general baby audience. Although, I also get frustrated when I expect her to nap throughout the better part of the day only to find I can't seem to make her happy at all. Or that she wants to be stuck to me - eating (yes, I am nursing) - for up to 45 minutes with delays scattered throughout that time.
I have managed to figure out Evie's current eating style, though (which, will most likely change before this gets to press). She eats on one side and after 10-15 minutes she slumps off into what we call the "milk coma". She gets a huge, jiggly grin on her face and coos softly. Sometimes she twitches a little. She always stretches her arms up over her head and grunts back-n-forth, twisting her shoulder blades for an extra stretch. Then she smacks her lips and settles in on my lap. You must give her at least a FULL MINUTE to bask in this coma state before burping her or she will not only NOT burp ...but will whine a little, too. After burping her, she makes a "Robert DeNiro" squinty face and falls back ready for the next side. Sometimes—well, often, really—she needs to be changed at this time to wake her up. That, and this kid has EXPLOSIVE poopies that sound like an old catalytic converter back-firing. You have to time these things just right or you could end up with a splat on the changing table... we've had our fair share. The best is when she fills a diaper TWICE during one feeding. We must go through at LEAST 14-16 diapers a day. We are beginning to let her sit in a few to save the cash... is this wrong? (*wink*)
Parenthood is, so far, a humorous adventure...

Evie & Pacifier

So... damned... cute.

Announcing Eve (Evie) Amelia

Delivered via C-Sectionat 3:26PM on Monday, July 2nd
Bon Secours St. Mary's Hospital in Richmond, VA.
7lbs 5oz
19.5 inches

Mom and dad are excited, overwelmed, confused, scared, learning and growing as one new family.
We are also very happy.


She's here!

Dad gets a glimpse - and a footprint.

Mom gets her first look while dad holds her up.

Mom gets to hold her new daughter in post-op.

Stand By....

Please stand-by. My sanity will follow in the next few weeks. Having a baby is a very sobering experience!

In brief:
I ended up declining my mom's offer to stay with us and we came home alone (last week July 5th) . We "succeeded" at home that Thursday, Friday, Saturday and then on Sunday... I noticed my right breast getting red and hot to the touch. The baby wouldn't eat and cried. I got all upset... ok, hysterical. We were up all night and I had an emergency call-in doctor prescribe a penicillan-type of drug for what I thought was an infection caused by my SEVERELY cracked nips (turns out the baby has NOT been latching correctly and tearing me to shreds for the last 6 days. I'm talking blood and scabs, it was so freaking painful, I'd cry when she ate). It was horrible. The next day, Monday, we KNEW something was wrong and raced out to a lactation consultant. I looked like I had a recent boob job (my boobs were so swollen that my aereolas were white! My boobs were shiny and tight!) and the baby was limp. I cried. It was terrible. She helped straighten things out and said I was developing "mastitus" but I probably caught it in time and could reverse it. We relearned how to feed, how to pump for the first time and she told me to get off my feet because I was also developing edemia. I cried and cried thinking about how stupid I had been,... and then called my mom begging her to come here after all. Rob picked her up the very next morning from the border of North Carolina/Virginia where my dad drove her & dropped her off.
We are catching up now. We weren't eating, paying bills or even showering before 4PM. We were losing it.
So, bear with me, it may be a while before I blog, email or call. Sorry!

To Catherine, With Love

Catherine claims to have found this dress cute but never wore it when she was pregnant.
I thought this dress was hysterical & I never wore it either. Turns out, Rob thinks its cute, too. Go figure. Maybe the next pregnancy...

Tribute to Tatjana

Don't mess with the belly.