RSV

2 nights ago, the longest night of my life. I held you in my arms for 11 hours in an ER. I then held you for another 2 or 3 in a storage room, as we waited for a room on the pediatric floor. Sleep didn't happen for me but I was happy when you would nod off.

Right beside us, the whole time, was your father. Correction, your father left once, to bring your grandmother home. He then came right back. He didn't sleep either.

Stay strong, ladybird.

Still ill

Today, I noticed you trying to touch the dust motes in the sunbeams in our bedroom. I thought that you were hallucinating as you have a fever, but your dad figured it out.  Ironically, he's usually Mr Worst Case Scenario and I am Mary Poppins. 

In respect your care, I am easy to worry, and quick to come to conclusions. Perhaps because I medical, I know too much of what is possible. Part of it is certainly connected to depression, postpartum to be specific, as I just sometimes feel everything is insurmountable.

As a special treat, we are sitting together as a family watching Tintin. We really have not been exposing you to TV, but we feel that you earned a little zoning out.  Perhaps we do as well.

Do you do the fandango?

This is the dawning of the night that you first slept through. 10 pm, you succumbed to sleep, after fighting it as long as you could.

At one point, your father and I serenaded you with Bohemian_Rhapsody. We did a pretty fabulous job of it. 

We owed it to you, after pops decided it was worth it to break our "no screen time" rule by showing you footage of Manhattan cable access talent shows from the 80s.  No link necessary to the carnage of the developing psyche.

Thank you for helping me feel slightly closer to human.

  

Tell Tchaikovsky the news...

You are currently looking at sweet little butt, because she just rolled over for the first time. I'm so glad I was here to see it!

Last night, she was playing hi 5 with her dad, which is pretty cool for a 4 month old.

Addendum: another first from yesterday - the raspberry. She's a critic after my own heart.

this one is for all the ladies....

someone i love very dearly had a bit of news that inclines her to think she will be expecting a little stranger in August 2013. she's jumping into the deep end with someone who will make an excellent papi, and i'm thrilled for both of them.  i started to unload all sorts of advice, but pulled myself back.  it's early days just now, and i could tell from the zonked look on their face that the concept has not fully unloaded both barrels.

i thought i would take a bit of time to create a  few editable, living posts filled with advice.  this is the sort of stuff nobody tells you, or you hear and don't take seriously. i'm going to add to them as i think of things.  review them when you are ready.

i'm also going to fold in a bit of advice, not for them, but for the lemmings that allow the retail system to have their way with their wallets.  let me welcome you to the tastiest demographic there is out there - the newly knocked up parents to be.  guard your purchasing impulse, as they want to sell you out. i'm looking at you, motherhood maternity - who sell your information to anyone they like as soon as you get it.  p.s. you SUCK.

HEY, INTERNET... bring it. (waves hand Bruce Lee style)  this is my opinion, dig?

first things first:

chill out.  maintain normal activities as best you can, but if your body is telling you to sleep, then do it.  do some prenatal yoga, keep yourself limber & centred. meditate.  swimming is lovely.  consider hypnobirthing, if only for the daily focus it places on spending time thinking about what is happening in the moment and at the time of the birth in a very positive way.

while i am on the subject of being positive, i will warn you to avoid all the freaky reality shows about folks having dramatic birthing scenes. just stop watching them.  they wouldn't show it unless it was exciting.  i compare it to watching a car crash.  on a similar note, you shouldn't feel obligated to listen to every horror story folks will want to tell you about. the reason for this is twofold.  if you hear something horrible, and think about that horrible thing, you will almost expect something similar to happen to you.

check your diet, keep it real.  now isn't the time for reducing, but don't eat garbage.  consider what you are feeding yourself, and speak with your OB provider about what's safe and what isn't.  eat fresh, avoid canned foods or plastic bottle water. if the label has too many words you can't pronounce, don't eat it.  review your meds with them. this includes your over the counter meds and your herbal supplements  stop drinking, smoking, & drugging yourself.  if this is a problem, get some help.     in short, think about the chemicals you are putting in your body, on your body.

now... let's move on to the little wonder.

4 d scans are superfluous wastes of money, don't bother. they all look creepy, and might not be the best thing for your baby's tender grey cells. put the money into a bank account for the college fund instead.

when you find out the gender of your wee one, consider holding off as long as you can in telling the world (large or small) if you wish to avoid gender stereotyped gifts.  my baby shower was fifty shades of pink, which made me want to scream but for the whole "gift horse, mouth" thing.

registries are funny things.  you can create them to help folks get the idea of what you are into.  some will find this useful, others will think "she has to be joking,"and pass on getting the death star planetarium you hoped to use to create a twinkling atmosphere in your kiddo's room and get you something stupid and pink instead.  deal with it, smile gracefully  then return it ASAP for the death star.  i created an amazon that smart folks found & used, and gave in and created a toys r us one which was easier for folks to shop from but had more mundane things to choose from and crappier service in the shops.  if i could do it again, i would just stick with amazon.

i will strongly suggest putting NO newborn sized clothing items on any list you create.  unless you think you are going to have a very teeny baby, your kid will likely outgrow the newborn stuff in a few weeks, at most.  focus on larger sizes, but don't overshop any one size.  my kiddo is 3.5 months, and is already looking better in the 6 month stuff than the 3 month togs.  i'm realizing that the summer stuff i bought in 12 month size might end up being worn in spring.  luckily, there isn't an over-abundance of it...

consider second hand on some things.  spend money on a good carseat, but be open to accepting gently used items.  check recalls, of course.  don't accept anything that looks disgusting or had repairs.  as noted above, you will blow through clothing like nobody's business; and the kid will not care if they are wearing last year's fashion because the only thing they have a taste for is breastmilk.

try out a few baby-wearing carriers before spending dosh on any.  in a similar vein, find a small mama-baby shop that does "try before you buy" for diaper covers. some have packs of various sorts for you to test drive, which is lovely.

if there is a diaper service in your area, seriously consider it.  you will save oodles of cash, and your baby's arse won't get sore and sad in a plastic bag aka a disposable diaper.

breastfeed.  don't let anyone talk you out of it.  just keep trying.  search online for "breastfeeding infant health benefits", then switch out infant for maternal.  read up, and get motivated.

more as i think of it...

Ha! 3 months...

Tonight, you laughed for the first time. You were having your evening snack when you stopped, turned your head to look at me, made eye contact to be certain that I was paying attention.  Then, you smiled wide enough to show both dimples and said - "ha!" Dramatically pausing before letting off another - "ha!"

In turn, I started to laugh, which encouraged you to repeat the process a bit more rapidly.  We did this for a few minutes while your father wondered what was so hilarious to me.
I had to return to work, as we can't live on one income at this time. The thought of returning to the job that I was working before you were born pushed me over the edge of a frightful depression, so I found something new. 
You were very lucky to have your grandparents bring you to me for the first week, as your father scrambled to find suitable daycare for you.  We needed to find something close to my workplace, so that I could feed you as you refused bottles. Jen, who reads to you & dances with you, was our choice.
By putting you in daycare, I became concerned I would miss moments like this. Thank you for sharing this joyful first with me. It came at the end of a difficult weekend. Your (comedic) timing could not have been better.

8 weeks, two months, whichever you prefer.

We just weathered our first major storm.  You did just fine, but I am exhausted from worrying.  We were prepared, but my thoughts were tainted with the thought of some outrageous event happening.  A tree coming through the room. Some debris or other from the abandoned neighbour's place becoming a missile in the high breeze and smashing the glass near your bassinet.  None of this happened.  We didn't even lose power, which is a bit of a miracle in itself.  The only inconvenience was intermittent flickering of the power and an inability to go out.  As I rarely have left the home since we brought you home, it isn't exactly a stretch at this time.

Your father stayed home to take care of things around the house, which includes us.  I am eternally grateful for his ability to have energy when I have none.  He took care of you while I caught up on my sleep.

To be honest, part of this fatigue is likely mental rather than physical.  My love for you is so great, it seems to make everything else less lovely.  All that can make it difficult to get things done, as it seems like a futile treadmill of mediocrity.  Then, I see you, and everything is worthwhile.

Last night, we had you on the table, staring up at your papi.  He was saying "hello" to you, and you were mimicking him back.  You match the pitch, and make a great effort towards creating the sounds.  A few weeks ago, close to your 4th week, you were doing just the ö sound.  At this point, you have enough of it that I started to film you, as we heard you get remarkably close three times in a row.  You are extraordinary, which we have known for some time. 

The doctor agrees, you are ahead of your curve in weight and progress. 90% plus in everything, you are Massive.  She noted you are trying to flip over, and remarked at your mimicking ability which she witnessed.  You are pretty awesome, and I never tire of telling you so.  You appear to agree, and enjoy hearing it, as you smile a joyous, toothless grin without fail when told.  You have been smiling in a way that reliably indicates actual social interaction rather than gas pains since 6 weeks for certain.  I suspected it sooner, but you are a bit of a gassy girl. (Much to your father's delight.)

Next week, I start a new job.  I am still nursing, but I will be working towards case management from home.  I have given notice at my previous job, and look forward to being able to be near you while working.  The other job was just too draining to consider parenting effectively after a full day of babysitting adults.  Some day you will understand this.

I don't want to leave you for an hour, let alone 8 hours for training for a few weeks.  I think of how much you have developed and changed in the last 8 weeks, and I lament the idea of missing the smallest new thing you do.  I feel better knowing my parents, your grandmother and the self-christened "grand dude,"will be here for the first week to watch you.  They love you to the limit, and you will feel safe with them.  I almost will be able to concentrate on being a solitary human again.

It has been so long that I have felt symbiotic in my existence with you.  You are sheltered by me and gain your solitary sustenance from my body, and I feel a fragile trust from you.  May I never let you down.