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| "Help me! They know not what they do!" |
I love this little joy bundle, but I tell you what... I love sleep too. At least I think I remember loving sleep. A stretch of four hours is rare! I would like to point out that Brad gets a stretch of 6-7 hours most nights, but still complains like he's a jew in the holocaust. Just saying.
Marital satisfaction. Yeah, it plummets. We'll smooch and it'll occur to me I don't remember the last time that happened. Or hug. Or speak to each other about something besides "hand me that paci" or "go to hell, I'm tired."
Many times I've wanted to write a little something on here, get it off my chest (there's a lot on my chesticles these days... literally). There's never any time. Even now she stirs, as she must sense my divided attention. So here is what I hope will be a quick rundown of events. As quick as Erica can make them anyway.
Birth. Painful. Yup. I thought my dead tooth in college was the most painful thing I would ever feel. I just knew it had to be worse than childbirth. Wrong. I barely got an epidural. It was refused as I was going really super fast, but then this angel walked in and said she could make it happen, even if only a weak epidural that would last me only an hour. Loved her. I wanted that hour to last for all eternity.
But it didn't.
My sister skyped from China and got to hear me screaming and cussing. Best birth control for a teenager ever? I think so. Scared her to death, she wouldn't go to bed until she saw me and Charlotte were both alive and well.
Charlotte came into the world pretty chill. There were no big screams like in the movies. I didn't hear her until they pricked her feet and pissed her off real good, lol. Once she was out, I was hella fine with whatever. The kool-aid man could have busted throught the wall and slaughtered a goat, I would not have cared. At least 10 different people had been diving in and out of my hoo-ha the past seven hours, and I couldn't be bothered to care about that either. Life was good.
Then we were left alone with her. LOL
We had a brief scare that resulted in a NICU stay. She was weezing all cute-like, a sign of respiratory distress. She also had a slight heart murmur, that while typical in the first 48 hours of life, was a concern when coupled with the weezing. She was the biggest damn baby in the NICU, she could have eaten those other babies for breakfast. It was a pain in the butt since I had to wake up and scrub in down the hall every time she wanted to eat, but my great aunt Libby is a NICU nurse so I wasn't stressed in the least that she was there. She was in good hands.
So, the murmur got better, and the weezing went away. Probably just some fluid in her lungs, most likely from being in that canal for 7 freaking hours (cone head, much?) In the end we all got to go home at the same time, which was fortunate and I'm pretty sure only happened because my aunt Libby expedited the process. Bless her! Those NICU nurses are superheros.
I will never forget the sound of her first "Omigod you assholes come feed me" cry that occured three hours into our first sleep at home. We'd set an alarm and slept right through it and she was PISSED. Seriously, I can hear it now... we flew outta that bed and did our jobs. Three weeks later it's more like... eh... let her scream for a minute, I need to pee.
My mom flew in from China and more or less stayed with us for two lovely weeks. I was an irritable brat half the time, but she effectively kept Brad and I from experiencing the painful reality of parenthood for a little bit, and thank GOD for that. It's been hard without her here, but if I'd had to go through this without her for those first two weeks while I was still in tons of pain... well, a firestation might have found her on their doorstep let's just say. HA. Just kidding. Maybe.
Mom was terribly jet lagged which meant her staying up all night with Charlotte was super easy for her, lol. One morning we woke up and she'd baked a damn cake in the middle of the night. She cleaned the house and got all of our baby crap organized in a way that it would have NEVER gotten done otherwise. I'm sure Charlotte misses that nice lady who was here and played with her and cooed at her constantly without complaint! Now she's just stuck with two very frazzled parents who would seriously consider cutting off their own fingers if it meant she would sleep just 10 more minutes.
Mom also got me through the shittiness that is starting to breastfeed. I know I said I was going to formula feed to save my sanity, but there you sit in the hospital and there are your boobs and there is your baby rooting for your boobs and I just thought... what the hey? That's what they are for, right? I'll never get another chance to try it out! And many times since I've regretted it, but then I look down at her face and she flashes me a nipple smile and I just love her to peices. Yes. Nipple smiles. They are the best.
I pump a LOT and we bottle feed a LOT and it works out. My child is a nipple afficianado. If it fits, it ships, at a low flat rate. No nipple confusion for her, they are all good in her eyes.
And I gushed about my husband on facebook once already, and while it's still true that I love him times one million, it has also slowly become clear that I did marry a mere mortal man after all. He's tired. He's stressed out. He's had the crud to contend with, sore throat and meds that make him even MORE tired. His grandpa Jonah passed away Thanksgiving day, things have been really stressful for him. Plus he works. Upstairs. All that separates us all day is a banister, not even a wall. He is going nuts. I try my best to see that he gets good sleep, but unlike Brad I have never been mistaken for anything more than mortal and at least once a night I cling to that bed for dear life until he gives in and does a round of baby duty. I feel terribly guilty afterwards... but he's still getting more sleep than me, so hey!
The hardest thing has to be dealing with the constant stream of self-imposed guilt and feelings of failure. People can say it's normal all they want and they can assure us we are doing a decent job, but the feelings linger. I finally got on some parenting boards and feel better about all the little things. We use the paci as a crutch, I even napped with her in bed the other day (uncle charlie's hospital bed... pretty funny sight). We worry that when she's awake we need to be doing something with her, but there's really nothing to do. But sit and dread the eventual fussiness... lol. I sleep with all my clothes on, including my ugg boots, so that I can face getting out from under the warm covers a little more easily.
So wow, I can't believe she's slept the past 45 minutes so I could actually get a blog out.
Oh yeah, fatpocalypse. That thing. I've dropped to just below where I started, at around 189. Pretty cool. My stomach looks disgusting, but I'll take it. After my 6 week check up, it would be nice to go to the gym... not sure how I'll make that happen, maybe I'll take her to grandma's for an hour every afternoon. It's weird that having her around has actually made me more productive... I clean... sometimes I cook. I actually do laundry! And I shower every day cause that is my ME time, LOL. So unlike me. I got a Moby Wrap in the mail, just gotta get the guts up to try it out, it's very intimidating. Oh, and the cloth diapering is going pretty well, too. The biggest expense is clearly going to be spending money on her adorable pictures, LOL. Occupational hazard, I suppose.
Stay tuned for more McDavid Parenting Misadventures.
