The Long and the Short of It

What's been going on around here lately, the short version:

• Fell into the tub trying to hang towels on the towel rack. Cursed.
• Packed maternity clothes, pump parts, and baby clothes that no longer fit the chunk. Cried.
• Booked too many plans for the month. Collapsed.
• Played with Merrill. Smiled.

And now, if you have any interest in being bored out of your mind....



What's been going on around here lately, the long version:

• I love our shower. It was one of the things about our house that I loved most when we bought it, and one of the things we get the most compliments on. It's an enormous shower/tub combo, built into a raised section of our bathroom with tile surrounding it. It has an oversized overhead rain faucet. It's glorious. That being said, as much as I love it for the shower, I hate it for the tub. The huge shower I love so much translates into a tub I can't take a bubble bath in, because I can't touch the foot of it with my toes...so I slide. Since it's built into the raised section, it sits so low that you have to lean down into it...meaning it's a bitch to clean. Now I have one more reason to despise it...it's impossible to bathe a baby in. Not a good thing when you're trying to wrangle a slippery wiggly infant. Also not a good thing when you're leaning over the step, trying to hang towels on the towel rack...balance lost, momentum gained.


• I decided to pack up my maternity clothes and the various items from my pregnancy, such as vitamins, books, stretch mark creams, etc...as well as the clothes that don't fit Merrill any more (a shockingly large amount) and the breast pump & parts since that is no longer a part of our routine. It hit me with enormous force that I am no longer pregnant, that I have a three month old, and that she is a formula fed baby. I'm still trying to write about my feelings concerning breastfeeding and our experience with it, and I haven't been able to find the right words. For now, let's just say it still gets me. Packing up these items and putting them in the attic served as a glaring reminder that time is flying past me in leaps and bounds, and I'm simply standing with my mouth hanging open, watching it rush past me. Every time I look at Merrill's sweet face, and realize that she's not a tiny newborn any more - and beyond that, no longer being carried in my womb - I am amazed at how much the past three months have changed our lives, and I can't even remember life without her.


• We've been going nonstop lately, what with a family vacation, my mother-in-law visiting for a week, my husband's best friend from college surprising him with a weekend visit, a trip to Mississippi to visit my grandparents, my nephew's birthday party, one of my best friends from high school coming to town....the list goes on and on. I've overextended us physically and mentally, and Merrill has been a trooper...but it's time for us to slow down and relax.


• There's not a long version of this one. The short one speaks volumes.

• 

What to Expect When You're Expecting

While I was pregnant, I read a lot about birth plans and how very important it was to know what you had in mind for your labor and delivery. Every book I opened and every website I visited made me feel that if I didn't have a plan going in, I. Was. A. Failure. It baffled me. All I could come up with was that I had no control over the situation, nature would pretty much determine the course of events for me, and aside from knowing that drugs would most DEFINITELY be a part of it, I didn't have any sort of notions as to how it would or should go.

As it turned out, I was right. Developing HELLP syndrome at 35 weeks and delivering via emergency c-section pretty much took any preferences I may have had regarding childbirth and threw them out the window. It was wholly unexpected and entirely out of my hands...and while not what I envisioned, I couldn't be happier with my experience.

I've heard of women who get truly upset when birth doesn't go the way they wanted - a c-section when a natural birth was desired, an epidural that doesn't take place due to time constraints, etc. I've had people ask me how I feel about Merrill's birth, whether I'm upset that I didn't get to experience labor and a natural delivery....and I don't know how to answer what seems like a fully loaded question. I didn't have a single contraction, never went into labor, and never got to push. These are all things that in theory, I'd like to experience at some point in my life. However, our experience resulted in a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby - so why shouldn't that be the ideal scenario?

I think I spent the entire pregnancy thinking about the end result - but I never really thought about how we'd get there, so for me that wasn't really the point. The point was that no matter how our baby was brought into the world, it was the right way as long as everything turned out okay. And unequivocally, without a shadow of a doubt, it did.

Milestones

Merrill's two month checkup was yesterday - we'll avoid discussing the trauma of her shots, since the entire family would prefer to forget the tears shed.

She is 11 lbs. 8 ozs and 21 inches long - which seems enormous to me - until a friend reminded me that some newborns are that big. Regardless, it's amazing to look at this baby and remember how tiny she was when she was born.

She can almost hold her head up by herself, and she loves to sit and look out the window. She's mesmerized by birds, smiles whenever she hears her dad's voice, and pouts when she's not being held. She makes sweet little cooing sounds whenever she hears certain songs, and she squeaks herself to sleep at night. There are a million other little tiny things she's doing, and I'm desperate to remember them all - because it's all happening so fast.

I rarely get things done during the day, and that's ok. I'm tired, and that's ok too. I desperately need a haircut, I hardly wear makeup anymore, and I live in comfy clothes...but it's all ok.

Because of her.

Beach Bound, Baby!

We are leaving for the beach tomorrow, and in all my life I've never experienced anything as trying as attempting to pack for myself (only 4 lbs. away from my pre-pregnancy weight but oh my LANDS, why do my pre-pregnancy clothes still not fit??), my husband (he'd wear the same shorts all week if I let him but yet he's strangely particular about what gets put into the suitcase for him), and an infant - an infant that weighs less than 10 lbs. and still somehow manages to require quadruple her body weight in clothes, diapers, wipes, formula, blankets, burp cloths and equipment that we will probably never even need.

It wasn't the packing itself that made me crazy...it was the packing while having Mer strapped to me in her sling - since she refuses to be separated from me if we are in the same place at the same time. It's an excellent reminder of what it was like to carry all that extra weight around, and an excellent refresher course on back pain - but to be able to simply lower my head and smell her sweetness, while kissing the top of her head....yeah. It works.

I imagine the week will consist merely of slapping a clean diaper on her when needed, feeding her when she gets righteously pissed off, and snuggling three deep in the bed instead of having her sleep next to us in the bassinette. Oh, and outfits - lots of outfits - since the child has a wardrobe larger than mine and is rapidly growing out of her clothes. I'm thinking wardrobe changes three times daily should do the trick.

Little Sunshine

When I read this, I silently handed the laptop to my husband with the "you have to see this" look on my face he has learned to interpret as such. It is such a succinct and true account of what it's been like to adapt to life with a newborn.



We spent the weekend in Indiana with my husband's family, where Mer Mer got to meet her great-grandpa for the first time and where we enjoyed time spent in the hot tub, glasses of wine for me and beers for him...while family members took turns passing Mer around like a football. Now that we're home, she's very loudly insistent that she be held constantly, in keeping with the past few days - which makes things like laundry, lunch, and a shower near impossible.

With this cuteness as your playmate, who needs food or cleanliness?

The Rainbow Connection

As much as I'd like to skip down the path of "motherhood is perfect" and letting myself live in a world of unicorns made of cotton candy and magical golden kittens, I do have to address the other side. Because although life with this baby is in fact amazing and soul-fortifying to the point of ridiculousness, there are times and pieces that are scary and painful and emotionally exhausting. It's scary to admit them to myself, much less the handful of people that may actually read this - but it's also scary to pretend they don't exist, and it's impossible to float through a trying day without accepting that things aren't always perfect.

I try to remain confident in my decisions regarding the care of Merrill - I try to trust my gut and attempt to feel good about how well I'm handling things - but I occasionally become paralyzed with fear that I'm doing something wrong. There are going to be people who judge me and disagree with me and it will take a thick skin to handle the criticism - much thicker skin than I find myself possessing so far. There is something so devastating about hearing someone tell you that you aren't doing a good enough job, and the feeling of being so utterly deflated while having to force yourself to cope is overwhelming.

I am extraordinarily blessed to have the opportunity to stay home with Merrill as long as I want - at least, that's the situation as it currently stands. We are in a position that allows us to maintain things financially, even without the boost a second income would certainly provide. Until I've made the decision regarding whether or not I'd like to be a stay at home mom indefinitely, I'm able to spend time with my adorable daughter and enjoy every minute of her. I am lucky, and I get it. I'm also envious of my husband for being able to go to work every day, to spend time doing something that requires mental stimulation, to have conversations with people, etc. I feel myself rapidly slipping into a neat little category, where I'm losing my edge and becoming far less multi-dimensional.

I experience guilt on a level I never knew existed - knowing I can't be perfect but beating myself up for it even as I know I shouldn't. I find myself constantly working on acceptance of self, taking things far too outside of my control and attempting to control them anyway. I question whether I'm good enough for her, whether I'm truly doing everything I can, whether it's enough.

Having a baby is empowering and scary and has stripped me down to the bare bones. It has made me stronger, allowing me to keep going long after I think I can't....and it has made me weaker, causing me to feel fear and worry on a level I didn't know existed. It's a constant test that provides constant rewards, and it's an ongoing challenge that provides ongoing bliss. It is not always perfect, and it's not always magical - but at the end of the day, every single dark part is so completely lit by the joy she brings...making it all worthwhile.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Today is my 31st birthday, and Merrill gave me poop. Literally. At 5am, as I opened her diaper to change her, she chose that exact moment to let it fly. It got on me, on her, on the changing table, the walls, the bed, and the floor.

And I couldn't have cared less.