Emma will be 7 months old on Sunday. Where
did the time go? When did she get big? How is she already wearing
size 2 diapers? I find myself mourning for the little baby I no longer
have, but also loving the heck out of the baby girl that I get to see each
morning and each night. Not lost on me is the fact that I only get to see
her at most 2.3 hours per day, unless she gets up in the middle of the night (and it's
not about quality time at that point). To think a year ago, I was
about to find out I had a little girl growing and developing those cute baby
cheeks.
There are many things about having a baby that I didn't want to know or care to find out a year ago. I wanted to go shopping for little Ralph Lauren dresses and pick out a nursery glider and register for cute little pink bottles. I wanted to not look in the mirror and actually see for myself that I was a walking cruise ship. I didn't really want to know what was supposed to happen at the hospital and what to do when we got home with this new little person who couldn't do anything but scream and poop. I just kind of wanted to stay in my happy place, the one that where I spent laying on the beach with a pomegranate martini baking under the sun with no concept of time.
I know a lot more now, and mostly stuff that I am glad I never found out beforehand. There may not be an Emma if I knew some of these things...
The catheter and the balloon thing. I just kept asking the nurse why she did that to me, halfway whining, halfway sobbing. As if I wasn't panicked enough that I was about to have a baby, then they go and do that.
My expectations when I first held Emma. I thought I was to be filled with love and tears and all things magical. I was actually knocked out by drugs, half asleep and my eyes refused to open when pictures were made. I was also out of my mind when they pulled her out of me, though I remembered to panic for a minute until she cried. It took a lot longer than I thought to feel the joy. I wish I had remembered to brush my hair. Those pictures are not pretty.
What people say about prune juice is true. Should have drank some of that shit. Now that any modesty I had was out the door, I took it a notch higher when David's mom and I were the only ones in the room. That turned into an hour and a half restroom break. Janis and I are a lot closer now.
When they tell you to get some rest, they don't mean it. They show you this by interrupting your sleep all night and all day. The blood pressure cuff is beyond annoying and the IV that they put in your hand...well, you just thought it hurt when they put it in. Try rolling over on it when you're drugged up enough to feel completely sick and have been newly sliced open on your undercarriage. Oh, and then they can't find a blood vessel to extract more blood. Awesome.
I assumed the baby knew how to drink milk and would do so when hungry. I didn't know she was going to bite my nipple and then fall asleep. Every two hours, rain or shine, day or night. Those people in the hospital made it seem so easy. Just bring the baby to the breast and ask her to open wide. Yeah right.
Thank God for mother-in-laws. You usually don't hear all of those words together, but when we got home, I didn't know what to do with this baby. And our house was never so clean.
I was going to sleep when Emma slept. She didn't sleep, at least very often and for a significant time period. And when she slept, that was usually when I tried to use the bathroom, eat something, take a shower. It doesn't matter anyway if you sleep 15 minutes. You need 15 days.
The postpartum questionnaires are kinda ridiculous in some ways. What new mother doesn't have feelings of hopelessness at 3 am or isn't tired or feels no joy in things she used to do. You're delirious, convinced the baby will never sleep again and what you look forward to doing is completely different than going to Buffalo Wild Wings. At least for a few months. What's important is that if you tend to be depressed and don't talk about it. I was just annoyed with my husband and his charts. We can laugh about that now, though he still insists they were completely helpful, and they totally were. But lack of sleep does that to you.
You're back to normal after having the baby. Nope. Nasty stuff comes out of places. You sag in places where you might have had some spunk before. And who doesn't wear a bra to bed? Modesty is still gone, since you have to feed the kid every two hours in front of your dad and mother-in-law and cousins. Not that you have to do it all out in public like that, but it's nice to have adult conversation. Even if it is about the baby.
And then the kid turns 6 months and is sleeping through the night and is the cutest thing you've ever seen. And it makes you *almost* forget about everything you've done for the past 6 months. But thankfully, I typed it all up and can remember the good ole days whenever I start thinking that this isn't too bad and where did my little 5 pound baby go. It turned into the 14 pound baby who is now teething and is sometimes difficult to get to sleep and is not just content to lay still on the boppy to drink milk. But...she is the cutest thing you've ever seen, so it makes it all worth it despite being tortured at the hospital and never sleeping anymore. I love my Emma Rose and I am so glad we did not get that puppy instead.
There are many things about having a baby that I didn't want to know or care to find out a year ago. I wanted to go shopping for little Ralph Lauren dresses and pick out a nursery glider and register for cute little pink bottles. I wanted to not look in the mirror and actually see for myself that I was a walking cruise ship. I didn't really want to know what was supposed to happen at the hospital and what to do when we got home with this new little person who couldn't do anything but scream and poop. I just kind of wanted to stay in my happy place, the one that where I spent laying on the beach with a pomegranate martini baking under the sun with no concept of time.
I know a lot more now, and mostly stuff that I am glad I never found out beforehand. There may not be an Emma if I knew some of these things...
The catheter and the balloon thing. I just kept asking the nurse why she did that to me, halfway whining, halfway sobbing. As if I wasn't panicked enough that I was about to have a baby, then they go and do that.
My expectations when I first held Emma. I thought I was to be filled with love and tears and all things magical. I was actually knocked out by drugs, half asleep and my eyes refused to open when pictures were made. I was also out of my mind when they pulled her out of me, though I remembered to panic for a minute until she cried. It took a lot longer than I thought to feel the joy. I wish I had remembered to brush my hair. Those pictures are not pretty.
What people say about prune juice is true. Should have drank some of that shit. Now that any modesty I had was out the door, I took it a notch higher when David's mom and I were the only ones in the room. That turned into an hour and a half restroom break. Janis and I are a lot closer now.
When they tell you to get some rest, they don't mean it. They show you this by interrupting your sleep all night and all day. The blood pressure cuff is beyond annoying and the IV that they put in your hand...well, you just thought it hurt when they put it in. Try rolling over on it when you're drugged up enough to feel completely sick and have been newly sliced open on your undercarriage. Oh, and then they can't find a blood vessel to extract more blood. Awesome.
I assumed the baby knew how to drink milk and would do so when hungry. I didn't know she was going to bite my nipple and then fall asleep. Every two hours, rain or shine, day or night. Those people in the hospital made it seem so easy. Just bring the baby to the breast and ask her to open wide. Yeah right.
Thank God for mother-in-laws. You usually don't hear all of those words together, but when we got home, I didn't know what to do with this baby. And our house was never so clean.
I was going to sleep when Emma slept. She didn't sleep, at least very often and for a significant time period. And when she slept, that was usually when I tried to use the bathroom, eat something, take a shower. It doesn't matter anyway if you sleep 15 minutes. You need 15 days.
The postpartum questionnaires are kinda ridiculous in some ways. What new mother doesn't have feelings of hopelessness at 3 am or isn't tired or feels no joy in things she used to do. You're delirious, convinced the baby will never sleep again and what you look forward to doing is completely different than going to Buffalo Wild Wings. At least for a few months. What's important is that if you tend to be depressed and don't talk about it. I was just annoyed with my husband and his charts. We can laugh about that now, though he still insists they were completely helpful, and they totally were. But lack of sleep does that to you.
You're back to normal after having the baby. Nope. Nasty stuff comes out of places. You sag in places where you might have had some spunk before. And who doesn't wear a bra to bed? Modesty is still gone, since you have to feed the kid every two hours in front of your dad and mother-in-law and cousins. Not that you have to do it all out in public like that, but it's nice to have adult conversation. Even if it is about the baby.
And then the kid turns 6 months and is sleeping through the night and is the cutest thing you've ever seen. And it makes you *almost* forget about everything you've done for the past 6 months. But thankfully, I typed it all up and can remember the good ole days whenever I start thinking that this isn't too bad and where did my little 5 pound baby go. It turned into the 14 pound baby who is now teething and is sometimes difficult to get to sleep and is not just content to lay still on the boppy to drink milk. But...she is the cutest thing you've ever seen, so it makes it all worth it despite being tortured at the hospital and never sleeping anymore. I love my Emma Rose and I am so glad we did not get that puppy instead.
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baby.
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