My little Obama baby

 

Jay went back to work Monday, and ever since I’ve been praying for the weekend so that we could return to tag teaming Evelyn. She’s a good baby, she doesn’t cry much, but she does keep me busy. This is what I’ve discovered about parenting a newborn so far:

1. You better get that diaper on fast if you don’t want to have a poopy mess on your hands: SHE WILL POOP, DIAPER PRESENT OR NOT.
2. Just because you just changed her, doesn’t mean she’s not going to poop two minutes later.
3. Evelyn has the ability to sense when you’re sitting down that rivals the world’s most superior altimeters, so you better not even bend your knees if you don’t want to sound the alarm.
4. Your hygiene is your barometer to how well your day alone with baby went. Get used to showering when Jay comes home.
5. Sometimes the baby book just isn’t enough reassurance, it’s okay to google everything.
6. Breastfeeding does eventually feel less like a pack of starving wolfs are vying for your nourishment.
7. Can you’re boobs get any bigger? Yes they can. Can you control your bladder long enough to get her to sleep? Yes you can. Can Jay and I survive through any more sleep deprivation? Yes we can.

Gap Vote T

With less than a week before the big day, you can personalize your tee according to what speaks to you this election. Pick up the Vote T ($15) and tell everyone what you’re voting for, or keep it a mystery.

Bliss in the face of utter discomfort

I never knew that I could be so satisfied with sitting and watching another human being for hours at a time. Jay and I have been holed up in our room all week gazing at our little offspring.

ME: How did this come out of my vagina?

JAY: It’s wasn’t pretty, believe me.

ME: (considering adoption because this last statement tells me the possibility of conceiving another biological wonder has gone the way of the dinosaur for us)

JAY: But I’d do it again anytime.

ME: Me too.

I say this while trying not to think of the ten thousand stitches located down there, the obscene amount of bleeding, the horrendous cramps, and the terrible fatigue.

I went into labor fully expecting it to be most unbearable experience of my life, and despite the fact that it was drawn-out so much that I considered suing the nurse who put the medication that slowed down the labor process, it wasn’t as bad as I expected. Every one tells you horror stories about giving birth, so you’re prepared for that, what you’re not prepared for is what happens after a baby emerges from your body

Another thing I don’t think you’re ever really prepared for is how much you can love. I never knew I could love anything so intensely or so achingly. I’m not at all ashamed that I spend several hours a day just listening to her breathe, I can’t stop playing with her tiny hands, and my heart palpitates every time she even glances my way, coos, whimpers, smirks, or even passes gas. My life before seven days ago feels like it happened ages ago, and I’m in serious danger of forgetting it altogether if she continues to be this amazing. 

Thankful

I forgot to mention how thankful I am to have my mother. She came with us to the hospital at midnight and didn’t leave my side for more than five minutes for the next 24 hours, she made sure Jay got what rest he could with that high of an anxiety level, she got me ice even before I asked, and she held my hand when I needed it. She was there for me in every way I needed her to be.

I want to mention also how wonderful Jay was. I think it must be strange to watch your significant other giving birth to your baby. He was anxious in ways I’ve never seen in him before. It’s the most bizarre, yet wonderful experience, to go through together. He, like my mother, was there for me when I needed him to be. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have a man that will look at me the way he did when I was in such a state, especially when about 30 seconds before he looked like he was going to blow chunks.

I’m also thankful for my iPod, music kept me from teetering over the edge a number of times. I’m thankful that my mother and Jay get along so well, their banter kept me distracted when my iPod couldn’t. I’m thankful for football on Sundays, it gave me something to concentrate on and on occasion, an excuse to let out a slight yell. Lastly, I’m thankful for the night nurse at my birthing center, she was an amazing person, and a strong commodity in my support system for those long hours.

 

My boobs sustain a life once again

I survived. I survived another one of the most physically uncomfortable experiences of my life (all but one have occurred within the last month or so).

My boobs were the size of melons yesterday, and I don’t mean the cantelope and honeydew variety, I mean they were the size of watermelons. What made it worse was that Evelyn refused to eat from my either of the nuclear reactors lodged on my chest. At the hospital she was eating fine, all the nurse even commented on how well she was taking to it, but yesterday she refused and looked up at me with an expression that said, “What, are you trying to kill me with these things?” 

Even before I was pregnant I had decided that  I would breastfeed my children excursively for as long as I could, so what made the pain worse was the feeling that my baby didn’t want all that I had to offer, especially when I had so much to offer, but I couldn’t blame her, my boobs were each three times the size of her head by this point, and that’s bound to be intimidating for anyone, let alone someone who’s only seen 72 hours of life.

Our plan of action was to take the doctor’s advice and to supplement her with formula until she would eat from my gigantic bosoms or whatever I pumped out of them. I tried using the manual single pump we had received at the baby shower, but it didn’t seem to be working, so Jay rushed to the store to buy a double electric pump before my chest exploded. In the meantime, I tried massaging my boobs, putting warm cloths on them, even taking a warm shower, nothing I did caused the pain to subside even the smallest amount.

I wanted to kiss Jay when he returned with the tool that would save my life. Or so  I thought. I was taking the pump we had purchased out  of it’s packaging, I noticed something that must have put a look on my face similar to Evelyn’s Lip Pout: I held in my hands a used pump. How did I know this pump was used? It had a few drops of someone else’s milk in one of the bottles. My disgust was only surpassed my the continuing agony of the size and tenderness of my boobs, it was so bad, my bra felt like barbed wire was wrapped around my chest.

When you buy a breast pump, it has a sticker on the label that dictates something about the pump not being returnable once the seal was broken, so I was worried that the store wouldn’t take it back, and angry that they had accepted it back once before. I wanted to go with Jay and raise hell. What stopped me was imaging myself walking in there looking like I had stuffed to basketballs where my tits should be. 

So once again I waited for Jay to return with the overpriced pump. When he came back I inspected the machine and couldn’t wash the thing quick enough. Once I got to pumping I was so relieved I almost sang a song of sweet relief. Jay and I fed Evelyn with the expressed milk for the rest of the day. 

 I was praying through my sleepless night that the engorgment would subside and she would take to my boobies once again. This morning before I tried to feed her I explained to her the importance of the task before her, I told her that the bond between mother and child facilitated by breastfeeding was important to me, so could she please do me this big one and eat from the contents of my breasts?  She looked at me and gave me a little grunt, and when she latched on to my boob seconds later, wrapping her arm around it as if to claim her territory, I took that grunt as a yes. She took to it so well that when she was done I checked her for fangs. Sore nipples are far better than barbed wired boobs the size of watermelons.

Elijah, meet Evelyn

When we brought Evelyn home from the hospital, my sister came over as soon as possible so that Elijah could meet the new addition. As soon as her saw her he smiled and yelled “Baby!!!,” then ran over to her and immediately wanted to hold her. It took some effort, but we finally got him to settle with sitting on his mom’s lap while she held him. He immediately started giving her kisses, and when she whimpered he blew on her and kind of rocked to sooth her. It’s adorable to see them together.

Evelyn Aubrey

 

I’ll spare many of the details, but Saturday evening I began to get strong contractions, and by just after midnight we were on our way to the hospital. Twenty-four hours later, at 12:58am, Evelyn Aubrey M. was born. She’s beautiful: 7 pounds, 8 ounces, 20 inches long, and a full head of hair. So much hair, it shocked the nurses-really. She looks just like her dad, even down to her hair style.

It took that long because we had to keep slowing down the process because she was getting “stressed”. I would be stressed too if there was a noose in the form of an umbilical cord wrapped around my neck three times. It made for a lot of pain, but once she was here, I barely remembered any of it. I’ll try not to hold the long labor over her head the rest of her life. 

She share’s the birthday of her Godfather, Jay’s cousin Brian, as well as my cousin’s baby (who she named Evan). He was born 22 hours after her, which I’m sure she’ll hang over his head all of their lives.

We spent the first 36 hours of her life in the hospital. We had so many people waiting to see her, I’m sure it kind of annoyed the nurses. They came in two at a time for the next hours or so, before the nurses cut us off so she could feed off of her mother’s ever-expanding endowments. As I spent that first night at the hospital with her, (we weren’t able to get a private room so Jay couldn’t stay with us) I couldn’t stop looking at her, even though I hadn’t slept more than two hours in almost 48 hours, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with her there. She looks just like her dad, it’s strange. Jay got there as early as they would allow the next morning, and a more visitors arrived soon after. We brought her home the next day, we couldn’t wait to get out of there, especially Jay who hated leaving us those first two nights.

Now, it’s almost surreal. You spend nine months counting down the days, and you’re both ready and totally unprepared at the same time. Then she arrives and you know that no matter what, you’re going to do the best you can, because that tiny human is depending on you. It’s the scariest, most wonderful feeling. I already feel like a completely different person.

I love

how online shopping can distract me from the ever-growing level of anticipation for me to pop.

Shoes for Jay

Sneakers Fall 08 by theshopportunist

Jay is a shoe man. He has about as many shoes as I do and that’s saying something. Actually he has about the same size wardrobe as I do so you can imagine how much we compete for closet space. For some reason beyond my knowledge, Jay can sometimes go for the most ridiculously colored shoes I’ve seen. I’m talking patent leather red navy and baby blue, or patent pink hot pink, and purple. It’s so strange for me because in every other department he’s usually so spot-on. I actually like shopping with him because he usually gives me really great opinions but when it comes to his shoes sometimes I’m speechless and even helpless. He says it’s because he like the shoes that nobody else has, so in an effort to get him to steer away from that neon green and purple pair he’s eyeing I try to find him some unique pairs that won’t make him look childish.

DVF Fall 2008 RTW

Diane von Furstenberg’s Fall 2008 RTW collection was one of my favorites of the season, I love the 1940’s feel of this look. While waiting for my little bundle to finally make her appearance, I’ve been trying to distract myself with the excitement of getting by old body back. I miss being able to wear my clothes, I miss being able to shop for clothing not in the maternity section.