I know what you're thinking -- "jeez, Mom, way to keep that blog updated. You're really committed, eh? I bet you aren't keeping my baby book up to date either, are you?"
And you're right. I have no excuses, but I will offer this potential explanation: You are just really fun to play with. You're also exhausting. I don't have a lot of oomph lately, but what oomph I do have goes into spending time with you. It leaves little to nothing for blogging.
Here's where you are developmentally:
- You can sit up unassisted, for a while. You sometimes topple. Other times, you can right yourself.
- You will frequently mimic us when we say "aaaahhhh" or smack our lips.
- You have eaten solid foods, but you don't really like it yet.
- You are teething. No teeth yet, but you are drooling all over the place right now.
- You can't crawl yet, but you can get your front half and your back half off the ground -- just not simultaneously.
- You squeal and laugh when things amuse you.
- We had to raise your bouncy chair to the second lowest setting because you were too tall for the lowest one. I remember when your Grandma bought you that chair and you were too short for it. We had to put a stack of books underneath for you to put your feet on.
- You seem to recognize the words and pictures of your bedtime book (Goodnight, Moon). Even if I don't have the book in my hands, you perk up when I start to recite the words. And if I do have the book, you perk up when you see the pictures, even if I haven't started reading yet.
- Your favorite toys are Towely, Mr. Shell, Ms. Whiskers, your bath cup, your squirty starfish, Mr. Putty, and the yellow teething ring.
You are still our favorite thing in the world. I think maybe you love your Daddy a little more than you love me right now, but I'm okay with that. It's really cute. You light up whenever you see Daddy. Don't get me wrong -- you smile really big when you see me too, but it's just a WEE bit bigger for Chris. Don't worry, though. He deserves it; he's a great Dad. He plays with you for hours every morning. He shows off your pictures to everybody (so do I).
I can't believe we've only known you for 6 months. It feels like you've been a part of our family forever. You make every day amazing. One smile from you is worth two hours' effort trying to elicit it.
Love,
Mommy
Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Dear Alex,
there is a sign on the door of your daycare that reads "Ice cream day -- every Friday! Please send $1 so your child can get an ice cream off the truck."
You are too small for ice cream right now, but I promise you that, when you are big enough, you will always have a dollar for ice cream. I love you so much. I want to give you everything wonderful under the sun. I want to protect you from all the pain and sorrow in the world, but I know I won't be able to. Occasional hurt is a part of being human, and no matter how hard I try to build up your protective armor of self esteem and confidence, you will inevitably, at some moment or other, feel its all-too-familiar sting. I hope I will raise you to be strong and secure enough to weather the hurts with grace. No matter what, though, I will make sure you have a dollar for ice cream.
You are such a delight. You are the happiest, smiliest baby I have ever known. You are always grinning and flirting with everyone, especially the ladies at your daycare. You are developing a very healthy laugh as well. You laughed really loudly when your Aunt Krissi was bouncing you, and then you did it again and again when you were hanging out with your Granny Johnson. They must have some special technique that I haven't mastered yet because your Daddy and I have both tried to do it and elicit that same gleeful laughter, but we haven't had much luck. We have, however, discovered a few other things that will sometimes make you laugh:
-- sticking our faces right in yours, then moving them away quickly
-- letting you fly like Superman over our heads
-- singing along with your music toys ("doot doot" is your preferred singing syllable)
-- flapping your owl toy over your head (thanks, Aunt Laura!)
We've been working on getting you on a consistent sleep schedule, and it's going very well. Right now, our routine goes like this:
5:15ish - I pick you up from daycare
5:30ish - we play for a while
6:00ish - bottle
6:30ish - play time in your room
7:30ish - I start running your bath and warming up your bedtime bottle
7:35ish - bath time! (you like to grab the cup out of my hands when I am rinsing you off)
7:45ish - rocking in our glider
7:50ish - Goodnight, Moon
8:00ish - hug, kiss, bedtime (with your cricket sounds playing)
Sometimes, you fuss for a few minutes, but you're usually really good about going to sleep. You're not sleeping all night yet. You'll still wake up sometime between 3 and 6 (4 or 5 is common) to eat, then sleep until sometime between 6:30 and 7:30. But after you eat your nighttime bottle, you go back to sleep pretty easily. We think you are teething right now, so you're a tad fussier than usual sometimes, but it's okay. I'm sure it's confusing and painful to be growing teeth.
You're awesome! Keep on doing whatever you're doing. It's working just great.
Love,
Mommy
4 months, 20 days out of the oven
there is a sign on the door of your daycare that reads "Ice cream day -- every Friday! Please send $1 so your child can get an ice cream off the truck."
You are too small for ice cream right now, but I promise you that, when you are big enough, you will always have a dollar for ice cream. I love you so much. I want to give you everything wonderful under the sun. I want to protect you from all the pain and sorrow in the world, but I know I won't be able to. Occasional hurt is a part of being human, and no matter how hard I try to build up your protective armor of self esteem and confidence, you will inevitably, at some moment or other, feel its all-too-familiar sting. I hope I will raise you to be strong and secure enough to weather the hurts with grace. No matter what, though, I will make sure you have a dollar for ice cream.
You are such a delight. You are the happiest, smiliest baby I have ever known. You are always grinning and flirting with everyone, especially the ladies at your daycare. You are developing a very healthy laugh as well. You laughed really loudly when your Aunt Krissi was bouncing you, and then you did it again and again when you were hanging out with your Granny Johnson. They must have some special technique that I haven't mastered yet because your Daddy and I have both tried to do it and elicit that same gleeful laughter, but we haven't had much luck. We have, however, discovered a few other things that will sometimes make you laugh:
-- sticking our faces right in yours, then moving them away quickly
-- letting you fly like Superman over our heads
-- singing along with your music toys ("doot doot" is your preferred singing syllable)
-- flapping your owl toy over your head (thanks, Aunt Laura!)
We've been working on getting you on a consistent sleep schedule, and it's going very well. Right now, our routine goes like this:
5:15ish - I pick you up from daycare
5:30ish - we play for a while
6:00ish - bottle
6:30ish - play time in your room
7:30ish - I start running your bath and warming up your bedtime bottle
7:35ish - bath time! (you like to grab the cup out of my hands when I am rinsing you off)
7:45ish - rocking in our glider
7:50ish - Goodnight, Moon
8:00ish - hug, kiss, bedtime (with your cricket sounds playing)
Sometimes, you fuss for a few minutes, but you're usually really good about going to sleep. You're not sleeping all night yet. You'll still wake up sometime between 3 and 6 (4 or 5 is common) to eat, then sleep until sometime between 6:30 and 7:30. But after you eat your nighttime bottle, you go back to sleep pretty easily. We think you are teething right now, so you're a tad fussier than usual sometimes, but it's okay. I'm sure it's confusing and painful to be growing teeth.
You're awesome! Keep on doing whatever you're doing. It's working just great.
Love,
Mommy
4 months, 20 days out of the oven
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Dear Alex,
Don't take this the wrong way, but you are sort of driving me crazy this week. For a couple of months now, you have been doing relatively well at sleeping. You would usually wake up once in the night, eat, and fall back asleep. A couple of times, you even slept all night! But this past week, you've started waking up at 2 or 3 and never really settling back down. It's not fun. On Sunday, we let you spend the night with Grandma, so we could have a break, and you slept the whole night! But then, last night, it was back to the 3:00 AM wakeup call. We tried everything to get you to go back to sleep, or just to be quiet enough that WE could go back to sleep. Your Daddy even drove you around the neighborhood. I rocked you, and you slept for about 20 minutes. I left for work at 7:45, and you had drifted back off. Apparently, you waited until I staggered, bleary-eyed, out the door, and then you slept for several hours.
I keep reminding myself that this is normal... that it's temporary ... that it's what we signed up for. But it's hard. I love you more than you can ever realize, but honestly, when your Daddy took you to the car at 4:00 this morning, I almost told him that if he was going to return you to the hospital, he'd better take the receipt. =)
I came home from work on my lunch break, to do some housework and see you and Daddy. You were asleep, but when you woke up, you were all smiles. It was like you knew how badly I needed some love. So thanks for that. If you follow it up with a night of relatively calm sleep, I will appreciate it even more... but if you don't, the smiles will do.
Love Mom
4 months minus one day out of the oven
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Friday, May 18, 2012
Dear Alex,
you won't believe it, but next Wednesday, you're going to be four months old! That's madness to me. You are getting so big and strong.
Two interesting things have happened this week. The first was that, on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, you had these horrible crying jags. We couldn't figure out how to make you stop. We theorized that you were just really tired because, once you calmed down, you tended to pass right out for the night. On Wednesday, I calmed you down with a teething ring from the refrigerator, so we are also thinking you may be teething early. Granny Johnson says that your Aunt Cha Cha and I both cut teeth early, so it's possible. You didn't do it on Thursday, and you just sort of half-heartedly did it tonight, while I fed you your bedtime bottle.
The other interesting thing is that you have been sleeping like a champ! For a few weeks now, you've been busting out of your swaddle, and it was getting to the point where the struggling would wake you up. Your Daddy and I had discussed the fact that you probably weren't going to let us do it for much longer. Well, this week, you started flipping over in your swaddle, and we were very concerned that, with your arms pinned down like that, you wouldn't be able to roll back if you needed to. So, with much trepidation, I swaddled you with one arm out on Wednesday night. I expected you'd be waking yourself up all night long, but you slept for 9 hours! And last night, you slept for 10 and a half! You had never slept that long in your entire life, and I hadn't gotten so much sleep since before you were born. I had so much energy at work today, I didn't know what to do with myself. You seem to like sleeping on your tummy or your side. Since all the literature says I should put you down on your back, you had to wait until you were strong enough to flip yourself into your preferred sleeping position. It still makes me a little nervous, but you seem perfectly content.
I had a realization today. Thanks to you, I am probably, at this moment, healthier than I have ever been. Since I have no tolerance, I drink in extreme moderation - usually one glass of wine or a beer while I take a bath. I haven't smoked in over a year, and since I need to lose my baby weight, I exercise almost every day and eat a LOT of fresh fruits and vegetables. So, thanks for that! I really needed to completely quit smoking, even on special occasions, and I don't know if anything else would have moved me to do it besides being pregnant with you. You really are a gift, on so many different levels.
This week, you have started seriously enjoying the bouncy chair your Grandma Garrett and Grandpa Tiny got you. Your feet don't quite reach the ground yet, so we had to put a stack of books underneath for you to bounce off of. You get super excited, and you jump up and down. You also have a new favorite song - the Blue Danube waltz. It's on the music-maker from your activity mat, and it always makes you smile (and sometimes laugh!) when I sing along with it. I'm glad to see you're expanding your musical horizons.
I have started trying to establish a more regular bedtime routine for you. We've always dimmed the lights and played your cricket sounds for you, but I wanted it to be a little more involved. So, I added two things - after I start warming up your bedtime bottle, we sit down and read Goodnight, Moon. Then, we listen to "Walk on the Ocean," and then you eat. I swaddle you (arm out) when you're starting to drift off, and you eat a little bit more before you fall asleep. Then, you go in the bassinet with the cricket sounds.
You have your 4 month checkup on Thursday. I won't be able to go with you this time, so Daddy will have to comfort you after you get your shots. I apologize in advance because I know they will hurt you, but they're for your own good, and Daddy will be there to make you feel better. We love you!
Love,
Mom
almost 4 months out of the oven!
Two interesting things have happened this week. The first was that, on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, you had these horrible crying jags. We couldn't figure out how to make you stop. We theorized that you were just really tired because, once you calmed down, you tended to pass right out for the night. On Wednesday, I calmed you down with a teething ring from the refrigerator, so we are also thinking you may be teething early. Granny Johnson says that your Aunt Cha Cha and I both cut teeth early, so it's possible. You didn't do it on Thursday, and you just sort of half-heartedly did it tonight, while I fed you your bedtime bottle.
The other interesting thing is that you have been sleeping like a champ! For a few weeks now, you've been busting out of your swaddle, and it was getting to the point where the struggling would wake you up. Your Daddy and I had discussed the fact that you probably weren't going to let us do it for much longer. Well, this week, you started flipping over in your swaddle, and we were very concerned that, with your arms pinned down like that, you wouldn't be able to roll back if you needed to. So, with much trepidation, I swaddled you with one arm out on Wednesday night. I expected you'd be waking yourself up all night long, but you slept for 9 hours! And last night, you slept for 10 and a half! You had never slept that long in your entire life, and I hadn't gotten so much sleep since before you were born. I had so much energy at work today, I didn't know what to do with myself. You seem to like sleeping on your tummy or your side. Since all the literature says I should put you down on your back, you had to wait until you were strong enough to flip yourself into your preferred sleeping position. It still makes me a little nervous, but you seem perfectly content.
I had a realization today. Thanks to you, I am probably, at this moment, healthier than I have ever been. Since I have no tolerance, I drink in extreme moderation - usually one glass of wine or a beer while I take a bath. I haven't smoked in over a year, and since I need to lose my baby weight, I exercise almost every day and eat a LOT of fresh fruits and vegetables. So, thanks for that! I really needed to completely quit smoking, even on special occasions, and I don't know if anything else would have moved me to do it besides being pregnant with you. You really are a gift, on so many different levels.
This week, you have started seriously enjoying the bouncy chair your Grandma Garrett and Grandpa Tiny got you. Your feet don't quite reach the ground yet, so we had to put a stack of books underneath for you to bounce off of. You get super excited, and you jump up and down. You also have a new favorite song - the Blue Danube waltz. It's on the music-maker from your activity mat, and it always makes you smile (and sometimes laugh!) when I sing along with it. I'm glad to see you're expanding your musical horizons.
You have your 4 month checkup on Thursday. I won't be able to go with you this time, so Daddy will have to comfort you after you get your shots. I apologize in advance because I know they will hurt you, but they're for your own good, and Daddy will be there to make you feel better. We love you!
Love,
Mom
almost 4 months out of the oven!
Monday, May 7, 2012
Dear Alex,
I read a horrible story the other day about a minister who suggested that parents physically discipline their children for acting homosexual. He has since claimed that he was joking, but I am not so sure.
I have tried to tell you, in the broadest of terms, that you are free to be whoever you want to be, but you know what? You're a baby, and you may not have developed a sense of subtlety yet, so let me make this abundantly clear.
It's OK if you're gay. You're probably not. Most people aren't, but a significant minority are. And if that minority includes you, it is OK.
But here's the thing. It isn't just that it's OK. It's that your father and I just really don't care all that much one way or the other. Your sexuality is something you are born with, so it's only as interesting to us as your eye color or what hand you write with. Sure, we are mildly curious to see which traits you will exhibit, but we aren't going to be spending any time agonizing over the ones that don't turn out the way we expected.
The qualities you are born with are much less important to us than what you do with them. We are much less concerned with your genetic traits than with the choices you make in life. That's what excites us. We care about your joys, your passions, the decisions that you make about how to treat people. That stuff is fascinating! Your sexual preference - eh, that's pretty boring by comparison.
So, if you do wake up one day and realize that your heart doesn't point in the same direction as a lot of guys, I hope you won't waste a moment wondering how your parents will take the news. We will be happy that you choose to share with us, but honestly, we don't really think it is a big deal.
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Monday, April 23, 2012
Dear Alex,
You are three months old today. I honestly can't believe we've had you for 3 whole months. In some ways, it feels like you just showed up, but in other ways, it feels like we have known you forever.
I'm still getting used to the idea that I am a mother. It is still odd to me that words like "mother" and "son" apply to our situation. I had to call your daycare, and when I identified myself as "Alex's Mom," it sounded so funny, like when I started using your Daddy's last name. It is exciting.
You are growing and changing like crazy. You can roll onto your stomach now, so you pretty much nap in whatever position you want. You smile all the time, and you are just starting to giggle at things that you think are REALLY funny.
Your love of Biggie has been verified. At least 8 or 9 times now, "Juicy"consistently has stopped your crying and put you to sleep.
You have all kinds of cool toys at home - a walker, a bouncy chair, a huge alphabet puzzle mat, and a ton of little toys. You are still too small for most of them, but we have had fun on the puzzle mat. We always dance with you when you are on your changing table, so you get really excited when we put you up there.
I had to box up the first clothes that you've grown out of. Never again will you wear your stripey "Handsome" outfit (the one you wore home from the hospital) or your polar bear onesie. I would be a little sad if I weren't so distracted by all the cute new clothes that you are now finally big enough for ("Rock star," "I'm a love machine," and "Honeys play me close like butter play toast.")
You are just amazing. Every time you smile, it delights me. You are totally in love with your Daddy. You light up when you see him. If you are eating and he comes in the room, I sometimes have to make him leave because you get distracted from your bottle. You prefer Daddy to food. It's adorable.
Happy three month birthday! We love you!
Love,
Mom
3 months out of the oven
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Monday, March 26, 2012
Dear Alex,
happy two month birthday! I can't believe you are already so big. You're so different from the tiny little man we brought home from the hospital who couldn't smile or laugh or follow things with his eyes or flip over or hold his head up, even for a second, or grab things on his own.
You are changing every day. Yesterday, I read you the book Gus the Friendly Ghost, and you really seemed to be getting into it. Before, when I read to you, you didn't really seem to notice, but this time, you looked at the pictures and responded to my voice.
You are changing our lives so much. One unexpected consequence of your arrival in our lives is the constant string of old school gangsta rap songs cycling through my head. You respond really well to that sort of music, so we play it for you often to calm you down. Hey, whatever works... So, today, I am serenading myself with Warren G and Nate Dogg's "Regulators." Yesterday, it was "Juicy" by Biggie. This is a fairly new experience for me, but it's kinda fun. I Just have to make sure I don't start singing aloud at work because the lyrics to those songs are definitely NSFW. In a few months, when you start repeating things, we're going to have to be much more careful about what you listen to, but for now, it seems relatively harmless.
You had your two month checkup today, and the doctor said you were doing great. You had to have four vaccinations, three of which were shots. It was really hard for your Daddy and me to listen to you crying in pain. It was the first time I'd ever heard you cry from pain, and I did not enjoy it. I wanted to be able to make it stop hurting, but all I could do was hold you and snuggle you and tell you everything was ok. I expect this is just the first of many times in your life that I will want to step in and make everything ok for you, but find myself unable to do anything to alleviate the pain. Just know that, no matter what, I'll always be there to tell you that I love you, to hold you and snuggle you and tell you that everything is ok.
Your Daddy says to tell you we love you.
Love,
Mom
2 months, 3 days out of the oven
You are changing every day. Yesterday, I read you the book Gus the Friendly Ghost, and you really seemed to be getting into it. Before, when I read to you, you didn't really seem to notice, but this time, you looked at the pictures and responded to my voice.
You are changing our lives so much. One unexpected consequence of your arrival in our lives is the constant string of old school gangsta rap songs cycling through my head. You respond really well to that sort of music, so we play it for you often to calm you down. Hey, whatever works... So, today, I am serenading myself with Warren G and Nate Dogg's "Regulators." Yesterday, it was "Juicy" by Biggie. This is a fairly new experience for me, but it's kinda fun. I Just have to make sure I don't start singing aloud at work because the lyrics to those songs are definitely NSFW. In a few months, when you start repeating things, we're going to have to be much more careful about what you listen to, but for now, it seems relatively harmless.
You had your two month checkup today, and the doctor said you were doing great. You had to have four vaccinations, three of which were shots. It was really hard for your Daddy and me to listen to you crying in pain. It was the first time I'd ever heard you cry from pain, and I did not enjoy it. I wanted to be able to make it stop hurting, but all I could do was hold you and snuggle you and tell you everything was ok. I expect this is just the first of many times in your life that I will want to step in and make everything ok for you, but find myself unable to do anything to alleviate the pain. Just know that, no matter what, I'll always be there to tell you that I love you, to hold you and snuggle you and tell you that everything is ok.
Your Daddy says to tell you we love you.
Love,
Mom
2 months, 3 days out of the oven
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Dear Alex,
this morning, the only thing I forgot to do before I left the house was brush my hair! I think I am making real progress on this Mommy business. I even got about 7 hours of sleep last night, with a brief anti-nap at 3:30 to feed you.
You were 8 weeks old on Monday, and you're just amazing. You've already grown and changed so much. You're grabbing at things, you roll from belly to back like a champ, and you are able to hold your head up very well. The most fun development for me is that you smile now, and you're trying to laugh. The smiles are incredible. I keep trying to catch my favorite one on film, but it's an elusive beast.
We are starting to get an idea of your likes and dislikes. You seem to like dancing, Mythbusters, and Biggie. (Twice, playing Biggie in the car has taken you from crying to sleep). You seem not too fond of Tupac and the Pixies.
You had a busy weekend. You left SC for the first time on Saturday. We visited your family in GA. You had a great time with Granny, Grandpa, Aunt ChaCha, and Uncle Chuck. You got to meet your Aunt Michele and Uncle Keith. You seem to adore Granny and Grandpa. They were making faces at you, and it cracked you up. You were smiling your face off. Why don't you do that for me?? It was pretty awesome to watch.
You weren't too keen on the 3 hour car ride though. We had to stop on the way back to feed you in a parking lot. On the whole, though, you did great. We think you may be getting allergies. You are sneezing and sniffling a bit. You can thank your Dad for those.
<i>Things Amanda has Learned About Being A Parent #Whatever-Number-I'm-on</i>: It's not about you anymore.
Every now and then, life likes to remind you that you aren't the center of the universe. Never will that fact be more clear than it is after you become a parent. You don't get to be the boss anymore. Want a bath? Too bad, baby is hungry. Want to take a walk and get some of that baby weight off? Too bad, baby wants to snuggle on the couch. Want to eat? Too bad, baby wants to play. Want to arrive somewhere at a specific time? Dream on. You have been demoted. You are no longer the head honcho. You are the baby's chief of staff.
<i>Things Amanda Has Learned About Being a Parent #Whatever</i>: Nothing makes you appreciate your mother like becoming one.
The uninitiated will think I'm referring to the pain of labor, but I'm not. That experience was so intense and vivid and surreal that it's hard to characterize it as "difficult" or "painful." No, what I'm talking about is everything that comes next -- those first 5 days when I didn't sleep... the house I spent watching to see if you were still breathing... I'm talking about the heartbreaking struggle with breastfeeding, the excruciating decision to switch to formula, the sleep deprivation, the worries ... oh, the worries.
Is it too hot for him?
Is it too cold?
Is this swaddle tight enough?
Is it too tight?
Should he be sweating like that?
Why is he scratching himself?
Is that diaper rash?
Can he breathe slumped over like that?
Are his carseat straps too tight?
Is he strapped in tightly enough?
Is the cat going to scratch him?
Will the daycare make sure he sleeps on his back?
Did that guy wash his hands before he touched my baby?
Why isn't he pooping?
Why is he pooping so much?
Why does his poop look like that?
How does he get poop THERE?
Is he sleeping enough?
Is he sleeping too much?
Is he eating enough?
Are we over-feeding him?
What was that sound?
Why is he so quiet?
Is he breathing?
Why won't he burp?
Does he play enough?
Is he happy?
Is he comfortable?
Is he safe?
I'm talking about how immensely your life changes. I'm talking about the way your heart pulls and stretches to accommodate such a deep love. The truth is, until you do it yourself, no one can ever adequately describe to you how wonderful or how hard it is to be a parent. I'm only 8 weeks in, but I can say that for certain. You are just awesome.
Love,
Mom
8 weeks, 2 days out of the oven
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Friday, February 24, 2012
Dear Alex,
as of yesterday, you are one month old! I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. It feels like you just got here (but it also feels like you've been here forever... strange).
A lot has happened so far. First off, you should know that I got help with the depression, and I feel so much better. I feel like a different person -- like myself again. So, you don't have to worry about that.
You've already done a lot, for a one-month old. You have visited your Aunt Krissi and Uncle Grant's house once, your Aunt Tia and Uncle Bobby's house twice, and your Obaachan's house several times. You've been to Drinking Liberally twice, and you've taken lots of walks around our neighborhood.
You've started smiling at us.
You've flipped over from your belly to your side, just once.
You have met a ton of new friends.
You've had about 200 pictures taken of you.
You have had your first poem read to you. It was "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg, which is highly inappropriate for a child. Lucky for me you don't understand words yet.
You have listened to a lot of music. You seem fond of Tom Petty, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and They Might Be Giants.
You have started wearing your cloth diapers (although you're in disposables right now because we are having to use diaper rash ointment on you).
You got health insurance.
You got your first piece of mail -- your social security card.
You had a toast made in your honor (at Drinking Liberally).
You have adapted well to the formula and seem to be happy and healthy.
Right now, your favorite things to do are riding in the car, swinging in your swing, eating, sleeping, and hanging out on your Daddy's chest. You're not overly fond of tummy time on your activity mat, but you put up with it for a little while.
You'll be starting daycare on March 12th. I hate to leave you, even for a few hours, with someone who doesn't love you unconditionally. I know they'll take good care of you though. We went to visit the place last week, and the teachers all seem very nice. There was only one baby there when we went because it was late in the day, but she seemed quite happy. It will probably be good for you to be around other babies and to have your routine shaken up a bit. I will miss having all day with you though.
You are totally amazing. We love you.
Love,
Mom
1 month, 1 day out of the oven
A lot has happened so far. First off, you should know that I got help with the depression, and I feel so much better. I feel like a different person -- like myself again. So, you don't have to worry about that.
You've already done a lot, for a one-month old. You have visited your Aunt Krissi and Uncle Grant's house once, your Aunt Tia and Uncle Bobby's house twice, and your Obaachan's house several times. You've been to Drinking Liberally twice, and you've taken lots of walks around our neighborhood.
You've started smiling at us.
You've flipped over from your belly to your side, just once.
You have met a ton of new friends.
You've had about 200 pictures taken of you.
You have had your first poem read to you. It was "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg, which is highly inappropriate for a child. Lucky for me you don't understand words yet.
You have listened to a lot of music. You seem fond of Tom Petty, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and They Might Be Giants.
You have started wearing your cloth diapers (although you're in disposables right now because we are having to use diaper rash ointment on you).
You got health insurance.
You got your first piece of mail -- your social security card.
You had a toast made in your honor (at Drinking Liberally).
You have adapted well to the formula and seem to be happy and healthy.
Right now, your favorite things to do are riding in the car, swinging in your swing, eating, sleeping, and hanging out on your Daddy's chest. You're not overly fond of tummy time on your activity mat, but you put up with it for a little while.
You'll be starting daycare on March 12th. I hate to leave you, even for a few hours, with someone who doesn't love you unconditionally. I know they'll take good care of you though. We went to visit the place last week, and the teachers all seem very nice. There was only one baby there when we went because it was late in the day, but she seemed quite happy. It will probably be good for you to be around other babies and to have your routine shaken up a bit. I will miss having all day with you though.
You are totally amazing. We love you.
Love,
Mom
1 month, 1 day out of the oven
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Dear Alex,
It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter. All throughout my pregnancy, I intended to exclusively breastfeed you. I did not consider any other possible options; I just assumed it would have to work out. But after weeks of struggling to get our act together, we have made the decision to switch to formula feeding.
It breaks my heart to give you anything but breastmilk, but I have tried everything I can think of. I have seen 4 lactation consultants, and I have tried several supplementation methods. I have pumped and pumped to try to get my supply up, and I have struggled to get you latched on properly to feed. It has become an agonizing ordeal for both of us, and you are not gaining any weight. The most important thing for me is to make sure that you are fed, and for us, that means you're going to have to be fed formula.
I hope you will understand this decision. It wasn't one I made lightly, and I have cried my eyes out about it. I just want what is best for you, but that turns out to be a more complicated thing to define than I anticipated. I want you to have the best food, but I also want you to have a mother who can keep her head on straight... and I want you to have ENOUGH food.
It's funny. You come into pregnancy with so many lofty ideals, but you find yourself compromising when you look into the eyes of a child who, after trying to feed for an hour, is still crying for more food. Please understand that your father and I love you very much, and we will always try to do the best things possible for you, even if that means making some tough, unpleasant decisions.
I love you so much.
Love,
Mom
Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.2
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Dear Alex,
this letter is hard for me to write, but I feel like I should be honest with you about every step of our lives together.
I feel like I may be struggling with some postpartum depression. I know almost every woman gets some baby blues, but it feels like more than that. I've dealt with depression in the past, so I recognize the signs. Actually, because of the problems I've had in the past, I have been pretty hyper-vigilant about PPD.
What you have to understand is that this has NOTHING to do with how much I love you. The moment I saw you for the first time, I was in complete awe of how amazing you were. I simply couldn't believe that your father and I had made something this perfect. But sometimes, after a woman gives birth, the chemicals in her body get a little screwed up, and it's hard for her to be as happy as her heart knows it wants to be. It's very frustrating because she is constantly in the presence of a tiny miracle, and she finds herself overwhelmed, intimidated, and terrified -- more than is probably normal.
When you are older, you may watch a movie called "As Good As It Gets." It's a really good movie, so I hope you do. In it, Jack Nicholson's character has debilitating Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. He's out on a date with Helen Hunt's character, and he says something really hurtful to her. She wants to walk out, and she says the only way she will stay is if he pays her a really good compliment. The following conversation ensues:
Melvin: Okay, now. I got a great compliment for you, and its true.
Carol: I'm so afraid you're about to say something awful.
Melvin: Don't be pessimistic. It's not your style... Okay. Here I go. Clearly a mistake. I've got this...what?...ailment. My doctor, this shrink I used to go to all the time...he says in 50-60% of the cases a pill really helps. Now I hate pills. Very dangerous things, pills. I am using the word hate here with pills. Hate 'em. Anyway I never took them...then that night when you came over and said that you would never...well, you were there, you know what you said. And here's the compliment. That next morning, I took the pills.
Carol: I'm not quite sure how that's a compliment for me.
Melvin: You make me want to be a better man.
That's how you make me feel, little guy. In the past, I tried to find a lot of different ways to deal with my depression and anxiety. I took some herbal supplements, exercised a lot, and just tried to get out of the house and be with friends. Right now, I can't do any of those things, so it's hard. One of my doctors mentioned that PPD is one of the only forms of depression that doesn't generally respond well to talking therapy; it just has to be medicated because it's a physical, chemical, hormonal problem. I hate the idea of taking anti-depressants. I have never wanted to. But if that's what they think will help, I will be HAPPY to take them. I will gleefully take them every day, if that's what I have to do to get myself out of this funk. Because you make me want to be a better person.
You make me want to be a beacon of joy and hope in your life. I don't want to miss a second of happiness right now because you will only be this tiny and helpless and innocent for a very short time. I don't want to let it drag on for months, denying that anything might be wrong, and find myself in a hole too deep to get out of. I can't afford that kind of stubborn selfishness anymore. It's no longer about me. It's about you. And your Dad, who leaves me in awe every day, when I see how he is with you.
Now, from everything I've read, the baby blues are normal, and you should only be concerned if it drags on past a couple of weeks. So I made an appointment with my doctor for your two-week birthday, and if I still feel down, then we will do what we have to do. If there's anything I can teach you from this experience, it is this -- don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Don't be afraid to admit that something might be wrong.
I love you so much, and I hope you don't think less of me as a Mom. From what I hear, being a parent is about making sacrifices, so this time, I am sacrificing my unhealthy pride. I will do what I need to do.
Love,
Mom
9 days out of the oven
I feel like I may be struggling with some postpartum depression. I know almost every woman gets some baby blues, but it feels like more than that. I've dealt with depression in the past, so I recognize the signs. Actually, because of the problems I've had in the past, I have been pretty hyper-vigilant about PPD.
What you have to understand is that this has NOTHING to do with how much I love you. The moment I saw you for the first time, I was in complete awe of how amazing you were. I simply couldn't believe that your father and I had made something this perfect. But sometimes, after a woman gives birth, the chemicals in her body get a little screwed up, and it's hard for her to be as happy as her heart knows it wants to be. It's very frustrating because she is constantly in the presence of a tiny miracle, and she finds herself overwhelmed, intimidated, and terrified -- more than is probably normal.
When you are older, you may watch a movie called "As Good As It Gets." It's a really good movie, so I hope you do. In it, Jack Nicholson's character has debilitating Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. He's out on a date with Helen Hunt's character, and he says something really hurtful to her. She wants to walk out, and she says the only way she will stay is if he pays her a really good compliment. The following conversation ensues:
Melvin: Okay, now. I got a great compliment for you, and its true.
Carol: I'm so afraid you're about to say something awful.
Melvin: Don't be pessimistic. It's not your style... Okay. Here I go. Clearly a mistake. I've got this...what?...ailment. My doctor, this shrink I used to go to all the time...he says in 50-60% of the cases a pill really helps. Now I hate pills. Very dangerous things, pills. I am using the word hate here with pills. Hate 'em. Anyway I never took them...then that night when you came over and said that you would never...well, you were there, you know what you said. And here's the compliment. That next morning, I took the pills.
Carol: I'm not quite sure how that's a compliment for me.
Melvin: You make me want to be a better man.
That's how you make me feel, little guy. In the past, I tried to find a lot of different ways to deal with my depression and anxiety. I took some herbal supplements, exercised a lot, and just tried to get out of the house and be with friends. Right now, I can't do any of those things, so it's hard. One of my doctors mentioned that PPD is one of the only forms of depression that doesn't generally respond well to talking therapy; it just has to be medicated because it's a physical, chemical, hormonal problem. I hate the idea of taking anti-depressants. I have never wanted to. But if that's what they think will help, I will be HAPPY to take them. I will gleefully take them every day, if that's what I have to do to get myself out of this funk. Because you make me want to be a better person.
You make me want to be a beacon of joy and hope in your life. I don't want to miss a second of happiness right now because you will only be this tiny and helpless and innocent for a very short time. I don't want to let it drag on for months, denying that anything might be wrong, and find myself in a hole too deep to get out of. I can't afford that kind of stubborn selfishness anymore. It's no longer about me. It's about you. And your Dad, who leaves me in awe every day, when I see how he is with you.
Now, from everything I've read, the baby blues are normal, and you should only be concerned if it drags on past a couple of weeks. So I made an appointment with my doctor for your two-week birthday, and if I still feel down, then we will do what we have to do. If there's anything I can teach you from this experience, it is this -- don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Don't be afraid to admit that something might be wrong.
I love you so much, and I hope you don't think less of me as a Mom. From what I hear, being a parent is about making sacrifices, so this time, I am sacrificing my unhealthy pride. I will do what I need to do.
Love,
Mom
9 days out of the oven
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Dear Alex,
If you ever have children, maybe you will find some of these tips useful.
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #1: Things never go according to plan, but that's okay.
I didn't plan on wanting an epidural, but I wound up getting one. I thought I still had hours of labor to go, but in reality, the worst part was over. If I had just waited another hour, you would have been here. But even though it wasn't the plan, I don't regret the decision. I had 10 hours to get all the crazy baby pain endorphins, but then I got to enjoy the part where I pushed you out.
I didn't plan on using any disposable diapers at all until you went to daycare, but right now, life is just too hectic to introduce another responsibility (lots of diaper laundry). So we're going to hold off until your cord falls off, you get a little bigger (they are a little big for you right now anyway), and until we get a little better hang of this parenting thing. I am ok with this situation.
I didn't plan on feeling so overwhelmed... but from what I have heard and read, it's totally normal, and most new parents feel this way. So I am trying to enjoy it as much as possible because you won't be this tiny forever. I hear you people grow really quickly, and I will miss these days when you are so sweet and innocent and dependent on us.
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #2: Everything happens in its own time.
If I had realized how close we were to your birth, I would have skipped the epidural. But, honestly, nobody knows if you're going to be in labor for another hour or another 30 hours. Things happen when they are supposed to. Sure, you can try to make plans for specific events occurring at specific times. You probably will. Just be aware that that voice you hear? It's God laughing at you.
The same could be said for your conception. I honestly believed it would take forever to get pregnant, but you and God had other plans. I thought, "we've got forever to buy a house, go to school, get our act together." It turns out, we didn't. And to be truthful, even if it had taken forever, my plan probably still wouldn't have worked out. Things have a way of getting complicated, baby or no baby. I know I will continue to try to make timelines for my life, but it's oddly liberating to realize that my plans are as tenuous as spiderwebs.
Sometimes, feeling powerless is empowering.
Let me conclude this letter by telling you how absolutely perfect you are. I may be tired and stressed and worried and a little crazy right now, but it's all worth it to have such an awesome little person in our lives. Your father is crazy about you. One day, you'll see a million pictures of him snuggling with you and kissing and holding you. It's amazing. Seeing how Chris is with you makes me love him even more, in a totally different way than before. He is a fantastic father, and he's so supportive of me, as I struggle to get the hang of things. (No matter how involved a father is, it's just different being the mother, especially if you're breastfeeding. There is a whole set of challenges that the father can't help with. Also, since he doesn't get 6 weeks of paid leave, I'm at home by myself a lot of the time now, so ... well, it's just different.)
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #3: Celebrate small victories.
Ok, so you're not getting any sleep. But your baby finally latched on correctly to feed!
Ok, so you haven't found time to do any housework in two weeks. But your put on real clothes today!
It's important to focus on the things that went right, from one day to the next.
That's all the advice I have for now, but I'll let you know when I figure out anything else. I love you very much, and I can't wait to see what cool new things you show us about yourself.
Love,
Mom
8 days out of the oven
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #1: Things never go according to plan, but that's okay.
I didn't plan on wanting an epidural, but I wound up getting one. I thought I still had hours of labor to go, but in reality, the worst part was over. If I had just waited another hour, you would have been here. But even though it wasn't the plan, I don't regret the decision. I had 10 hours to get all the crazy baby pain endorphins, but then I got to enjoy the part where I pushed you out.
I didn't plan on using any disposable diapers at all until you went to daycare, but right now, life is just too hectic to introduce another responsibility (lots of diaper laundry). So we're going to hold off until your cord falls off, you get a little bigger (they are a little big for you right now anyway), and until we get a little better hang of this parenting thing. I am ok with this situation.
I didn't plan on feeling so overwhelmed... but from what I have heard and read, it's totally normal, and most new parents feel this way. So I am trying to enjoy it as much as possible because you won't be this tiny forever. I hear you people grow really quickly, and I will miss these days when you are so sweet and innocent and dependent on us.
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #2: Everything happens in its own time.
If I had realized how close we were to your birth, I would have skipped the epidural. But, honestly, nobody knows if you're going to be in labor for another hour or another 30 hours. Things happen when they are supposed to. Sure, you can try to make plans for specific events occurring at specific times. You probably will. Just be aware that that voice you hear? It's God laughing at you.
The same could be said for your conception. I honestly believed it would take forever to get pregnant, but you and God had other plans. I thought, "we've got forever to buy a house, go to school, get our act together." It turns out, we didn't. And to be truthful, even if it had taken forever, my plan probably still wouldn't have worked out. Things have a way of getting complicated, baby or no baby. I know I will continue to try to make timelines for my life, but it's oddly liberating to realize that my plans are as tenuous as spiderwebs.
Sometimes, feeling powerless is empowering.
Let me conclude this letter by telling you how absolutely perfect you are. I may be tired and stressed and worried and a little crazy right now, but it's all worth it to have such an awesome little person in our lives. Your father is crazy about you. One day, you'll see a million pictures of him snuggling with you and kissing and holding you. It's amazing. Seeing how Chris is with you makes me love him even more, in a totally different way than before. He is a fantastic father, and he's so supportive of me, as I struggle to get the hang of things. (No matter how involved a father is, it's just different being the mother, especially if you're breastfeeding. There is a whole set of challenges that the father can't help with. Also, since he doesn't get 6 weeks of paid leave, I'm at home by myself a lot of the time now, so ... well, it's just different.)
Things Amanda Has Learned So Far About Being a Parent #3: Celebrate small victories.
Ok, so you're not getting any sleep. But your baby finally latched on correctly to feed!
Ok, so you haven't found time to do any housework in two weeks. But your put on real clothes today!
It's important to focus on the things that went right, from one day to the next.
That's all the advice I have for now, but I'll let you know when I figure out anything else. I love you very much, and I can't wait to see what cool new things you show us about yourself.
Love,
Mom
8 days out of the oven
Dear Alex,
today is your one-week birthday! Congratulations!
I didn't get you a present, so instead, I will tell you about how you were born.
I was almost 2 weeks past your original due date, so the doctors/midwives decided to induce labor on January 23rd. On Friday, January 20, I saw the midwife at my OB-GYN, and she stripped my membranes to try to kick things into gear. That set off a series of pretty mild contractions that lasted all weekend. Your Dad and I ate Indian food on Saturday night, and I had to keep stopping eating so I could concentrate on just enduring the contraction. They felt like really bad cramps.
On Sunday afternoon, we went to the hospital to start induction. The plan was to give me a gel to get my cervix ready on Sunday night, and then they'd start pitocin to induce labor on Monday morning. But the gel started me having really painful contractions. The monitors at the hospital didn't show that they were as painful as they were. They just looked like "mild uterine irritability." So nobody really acknowledged that I was in labor. I was, though. That lasted about 10 hours. When, finally, a nurse came in and asked how I was, I said, "not good." They checked, and I was dilated 7 centimeters. Your Dad went outside to start making calls, and it was time to push. I hadn't planned on getting an epidural, but I wound up doing it because the contractions were so painful, and I didn't realize that the worst was over. Less than an hour after I got the shot, you were born!
Your Dad held my left leg, a nurse held my right leg, and a wonderful midwife named JoAnn Fluent-Peistrup helped you get out of me. Your Daddy cut your umbilical cord. The whole thing is still surreal to me, but I do remember how surprised I was when JoAnn put you on my chest. You popped out, and she put you right up on me and dried you off while you were lying on my skin. I looked up at your Daddy, and he was crying. I thought I would cry, but giving birth gives your body a natural high, and I was just feeling wonderful and amazed. After all that time inside of me, it was hard to believe that you were really going to come out and meet us. It felt like a dream.
We stayed in the hospital for two more nights. You had lots of visitors. You met your Grandma Garrett (Obaachan) and your Grandpa Tiny. Then, you met your Aunt Denise and Uncle Rhett first. They were our first non-family visitors in the hospital. Then you met your Uncle Dave and Aunt Pamm and your Aunt Colette and Uncle Chuck. When we got home, you met your Granny and Grandpa Johnson. Everybody agrees that you are totally perfect and handsome.
Here's what we are learning about you:
You like the sounds of the dryer and running water.
You don't like having your hands wrapped up.
You still get the hiccups a lot.
You like being sung to. (I started you out with "Walk on the Ocean" and "Baby Got Back" because they were the first ones I could think of in the hospital).
You don't enjoy diaper changes or clothes changes.
You seem ok with being read to. Your first story was "I'll love you forever."
I'll be honest -- Your first few days at home have been kind of rough. Parenting is so much harder than I realized. I have my good moments, but I also have a lot of moments of just totally losing it and breaking down in tears. It's hard to know what to do sometimes, but we're working our way through it together. I guess feeding has been the biggest challenge. Everyone tells you how beautiful and natural breastfeeding is (it is), but nobody really tells you quite how HARD it is at first. The first few days were really hard. When your milk isn't in yet, it really feels like you're starving your baby. But we have made a lot of progress. Today, I fed you in a chair I'd never fed you in before, which was a major accomplishment. It's nice not to feel chained to the same two spots in the house. I am actually feeding you right now in front of the computer, and I'm ecstatic that it's working. I still wonder if you're getting enough, but you pee and poop like a champ, so I guess you must be.
A lot of things about the future are scary for me. Will I ever get a full night's sleep? Will I ever be able to go back to school? Will your Dad get to fulfill his dream of having his own restaurant? How will I ever leave you at daycare and go back to work? Will I be able to pump enough milk for you? But right now, I am trying to take things one day at a time. Today, our goal is to make sure you are fed, changed, and loved. So far, so good.
You like to suck on things.
I didn't get you a present, so instead, I will tell you about how you were born.
I was almost 2 weeks past your original due date, so the doctors/midwives decided to induce labor on January 23rd. On Friday, January 20, I saw the midwife at my OB-GYN, and she stripped my membranes to try to kick things into gear. That set off a series of pretty mild contractions that lasted all weekend. Your Dad and I ate Indian food on Saturday night, and I had to keep stopping eating so I could concentrate on just enduring the contraction. They felt like really bad cramps.
On Sunday afternoon, we went to the hospital to start induction. The plan was to give me a gel to get my cervix ready on Sunday night, and then they'd start pitocin to induce labor on Monday morning. But the gel started me having really painful contractions. The monitors at the hospital didn't show that they were as painful as they were. They just looked like "mild uterine irritability." So nobody really acknowledged that I was in labor. I was, though. That lasted about 10 hours. When, finally, a nurse came in and asked how I was, I said, "not good." They checked, and I was dilated 7 centimeters. Your Dad went outside to start making calls, and it was time to push. I hadn't planned on getting an epidural, but I wound up doing it because the contractions were so painful, and I didn't realize that the worst was over. Less than an hour after I got the shot, you were born!
Your Dad held my left leg, a nurse held my right leg, and a wonderful midwife named JoAnn Fluent-Peistrup helped you get out of me. Your Daddy cut your umbilical cord. The whole thing is still surreal to me, but I do remember how surprised I was when JoAnn put you on my chest. You popped out, and she put you right up on me and dried you off while you were lying on my skin. I looked up at your Daddy, and he was crying. I thought I would cry, but giving birth gives your body a natural high, and I was just feeling wonderful and amazed. After all that time inside of me, it was hard to believe that you were really going to come out and meet us. It felt like a dream.
We stayed in the hospital for two more nights. You had lots of visitors. You met your Grandma Garrett (Obaachan) and your Grandpa Tiny. Then, you met your Aunt Denise and Uncle Rhett first. They were our first non-family visitors in the hospital. Then you met your Uncle Dave and Aunt Pamm and your Aunt Colette and Uncle Chuck. When we got home, you met your Granny and Grandpa Johnson. Everybody agrees that you are totally perfect and handsome.
Here's what we are learning about you:
You like the sounds of the dryer and running water.
You don't like having your hands wrapped up.
You still get the hiccups a lot.
You like being sung to. (I started you out with "Walk on the Ocean" and "Baby Got Back" because they were the first ones I could think of in the hospital).
You don't enjoy diaper changes or clothes changes.
You seem ok with being read to. Your first story was "I'll love you forever."
I'll be honest -- Your first few days at home have been kind of rough. Parenting is so much harder than I realized. I have my good moments, but I also have a lot of moments of just totally losing it and breaking down in tears. It's hard to know what to do sometimes, but we're working our way through it together. I guess feeding has been the biggest challenge. Everyone tells you how beautiful and natural breastfeeding is (it is), but nobody really tells you quite how HARD it is at first. The first few days were really hard. When your milk isn't in yet, it really feels like you're starving your baby. But we have made a lot of progress. Today, I fed you in a chair I'd never fed you in before, which was a major accomplishment. It's nice not to feel chained to the same two spots in the house. I am actually feeding you right now in front of the computer, and I'm ecstatic that it's working. I still wonder if you're getting enough, but you pee and poop like a champ, so I guess you must be.
A lot of things about the future are scary for me. Will I ever get a full night's sleep? Will I ever be able to go back to school? Will your Dad get to fulfill his dream of having his own restaurant? How will I ever leave you at daycare and go back to work? Will I be able to pump enough milk for you? But right now, I am trying to take things one day at a time. Today, our goal is to make sure you are fed, changed, and loved. So far, so good.
You like to suck on things.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Dear Toot,
you are perfect. Don't let it go to your head. After I get some sleep, I will tell you the story of the day you were born, but for now, just know that your Daddy and I love you very much, and we could not be happier to be your parents.
Love,
Mom
13 hours, 20 minutes out of the oven
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Friday, January 20, 2012
Dear Toot,
You have gotten a reprieve until Sunday evening/Monday morning. But if you aren't here by then, we are kicking you out.
I have to tell you the truth - I was pretty freakin' upset to find out that I may need to be induced. The person who talked to me on Tuesday left me a little confused and a lot frustrated and a whole lot scared. But today, we got to see the other midwife at the office, and she made me feel a LOT better. She explained everything and empathized and reassured me, and I am now mostly ok with whatever happens. (On a side note, she also stripped my membranes today, to see if we can kick things into gear. Be very, very happy that no one will ever do that to you because it is just awful.)
I guess I got so anxious about the birth process that I forgot what it's all about. You! Whatever happens - whatever goes wrong or doesn't go according to plan - we will still get to see you and your fat, squishy little face soon. I can't wait for that.
That said, though, I just wanted to share a little list with you:
THINGS FOR WHICH YOU ARE GROUNDED WHEN YOU COME OUT
1. Making me vomit in public
2. Almost 10 months of heartburn
3. I sneezed, and it made me pee on myself
4. Excessive tardiness
5. That week of lower back agony
6. Making pickles stop tasting as good
7. 30 years old is either way too young or way too old to pee in the bed
8. Back pimples
9. Constipation
10. Making me cry during such non-tear-worthy TV broadcasts as a baseball game and an episode of "Overhaulin'"
So, no parties and no allowance for several months after you show up. Sorry, buddy. You brought this upon yourself.
If you're curious, here is one more list for you:
THINGS I WILL DO WHEN I AM NOT PREGNANT ANYMORE
1. Glass of the Moët in the fridge
2. Rare fillet
3. Runny eggs
4. Raw sushi
5. Sleep on my back
6. Guinness
7. Change the cat litter (not excited, but it's probably my turn by now)
8. Start running again (once I get the ok)
9. Ungodly hot bath (again, once I get the ok)
10. Pinch, poke, cuddle, tickle, and generally play with chubby baby
I can't wait to meet you. It's coming soon!
Love,
Mom
41 weeks, 4 days in the oven
P.S. you are the size of a pumpkin. I am officially terrified.
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Thursday, January 19, 2012
Dear Toot,
Well, it will probably come as no surprise to you to learn that I am still pregnant with you. The doctors want to induce on Friday (tomorrow), if you haven't shown up yet.
That's looking increasingly likely. I won't deny that I am a little disappointed. I really wanted to let nature take its course, but we are creeping up on 42 weeks, and most doctors don't recommend going beyond that. So, I am trying to accept that my plans will have to change. Either way, we'll get to meet you soon, and that's the important part. But, y'know, if you wanted to surprise us and come on out, I wouldn't mind. =D
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Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Dear Toot,
I guess you already know this, but you haven't come out yet. Your due date was yesterday. You are the size of a small pumpkin. I think that's an appropriate size for making your exit/entrance, don't you?
I have enjoyed carrying you around for these past 9ish months, but pregnancy has lost a little of the shiny lately. I have started my leave from work, so I'm pretty bored right now. I have cleaned everything possible, so I don't have a lot else to do. Also, it's gotten pretty uncomfortable to be in any position, even if that position is lying down.
Oh, and here's a nice gem - I was hoping you'd come out before I had a chance to share this one. It goes under the heading of "Things for Which You Are Grounded As Soon As You Come Out." The other night, I was lying in bed, and I got really excited because I thought my water had broken. Turns out, I just peed on myself. Now, Toot, you reach a certain age at which you say to yourself, "barring any unfortunate illness, I have probably wet the bed for the last time for the next 60 or 70 years." It is really upsetting to be proven wrong, then have to wash your sheets in the middle of the night.
I am being bombarded by phone calls and messages asking if you are here yet. I want to tell them yes, little buddy. I really want to see you in person. We are all ready. I have tried lots of suggestions for getting labor started, but nothing has worked yet. I will keep you updated.
Love,
Mom
40 weeks, 2 days in the oven
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Friday, January 6, 2012
Dear Toot,
I haven't written in quite some time. I am very sorry. I don't know what to say to excuse myself except that Christmas and New Year's are very busy times. Today, you are the size of a mini watermelon.
Right now, we are all just sort of waiting around for you to show up. As far as I can tell, everything is ready for you. Your room isn't perfect, but you won't be sleeping in there for a while anyway. So, any time you want to show up, we are ready!
I have been off work for a couple of weeks, just to relax and prepare, but my leave officially starts Monday. I have to go back to work 6 weeks after that, so please do start thinking about showing up. The hospital bag is all packed and ready to go.
I am half impatient for you to get here and half terrified of things starting. Please don't wait on account of my mild terror. I will get over it as soon as you start to come. Your Dad really wants to meet you (so do I)! We hope to see you soon.
Love,
Mom
39 weeks, 4 days in the oven
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