Baby Girl hit her two week birthday two days ago and I’ve been wanting to journal or blog or document her first two weeks somehow, but things have been moving so quickly I haven’t had the chance.
I can’t believe that two weeks ago I was still pregnant. Two weeks ago we were still waiting. Two weeks ago we had never met her.
I can’t believe how much better my body feels today that it did two weeks ago. Sure, I’m still sore and I can still feel it when I’ve tried to accomplish too much, but two weeks ago it really didn’t feel like I’d be healing this quickly.
She came into our lives so quickly. We spent all that time waiting and we went from zero to sixty in seconds. Suddenly she had been born, and they put her on my chest and I was a mom. That night in the hospital Joe and I both tried to get some sleep but there was this baby, new to the world and probably confused and terrified, and I couldn’t get out of bed to get her out of her bassinet, and nurses were coming in to check on us every few hours, and before we knew it we were leaving the hospital with our baby.
At one point, sitting in the backseat and looking at her in her car seat, I said to Joe: “Dude, we have a BABY.”
We had 10 and a half month to prepare and it still came as a complete shock.
Now it’s two weeks later and she fits right in to our lives. It’s still hard, remembering everything she needs and making sure she gets it, still trying to feed myself and get enough sleep. We’ve had a few episodes of her just crying and crying and neither of us being able to figure out what was wrong, but now I’ve got a list of things to try to soothe her. On her third day of life she had to go back to the hospital and have a blood test
At the beginning of this week I noticed that she’s started to look like a real person instead of just a baby. She has started making noise in her sleep and when I watch her face it looks as though she’s having the most vivid dreams, going at a mile a minute.
She’s smiled at me, and some people would say it’s just gas, but it happens often enough and in certain situations that I believe she’s smiling. She’s even laughed. She sneezes just like we do (Joe and I both sneeze in twos or threes, never just once). She clasps her hands and sucks her thumbs. When she’s done with a bottle she uses her tongue to push it out of her mouth. I know she can only see about a foot in front of her face, but she stares up at lights and at faces and just seems fascinated. Everyone who sees her says she looks older and more mature than her age. (And we, of course, think she’s a genius).
I like watching her when she’s with her daddy or her grandma, but I miss her big eyes (of still indeterminate colour, sometimes blue, grey, green, brown) staring up at me. Sometimes I just stare at her, watching her facial expressions and laughing.
There are times, in the middle of the night when I just don’t want to get out of bed, but once I do, and we’re in her glider with some music playing and her finishing her bottle and calming down to get back to sleep I don’t mind so much anymore, because she needs me.
On her third day of life we had to go back to the hospital for a blood test, and while she was lying on the little table, wearing only a diaper, having a little needle stuck into her little arms, she reached up and grabbed my finger and held on and I just started crying because she needed me.
We’ve had our struggles – our first visit to CHEO much earlier than I would have liked, struggles with breastfeeding that I’m still not comfortable talking about, a few hours of inconsolable crying here and there, and the postpartum depression that I had so feared rearing it’s ugly head, but in the end I think I’ve figured out that when she needs me, I will be there for her, because that’s my job, and I’ve always been good at doing my job no matter what else is going on in my life.
In terms of successes these first two weeks: I’ve cut her fingernails twice without chopping off any fingers; she’s had two baths with no screaming and no mishaps; I’ve figured out various ways to calm her crying; we’ve ventured out of the house with her a few times, including several good trips out for meals with no crying; she is now one pound over her birth weight and eating well; and the Senators have not lost a game since she’s been alive, which her Daddy seems to think has something to do with her.
All in all, we’re happy: