...Three Months...
Yesterday Lucy turned three months old. On this chilly, drizzly night, the torrid heat of summer seems years away, but in my heart I still feel like I just left the hospital on a sunny Sunday morning with my new little girl. Non-parents may be reading this and thinking, "Three months really isn't that long," and I would've thought the same thing pre-baby, but thirteen weeks in baby world is a big deal. In the past thirteen weeks (and, for that matter, in the eight weeks since I've last blogged about Lucy) so much change has happened in both her and me. I'll get to all the fun baby milestones soon enough, but for now I'd like to wax prosaic on the biggest and most sudden change in my life since the day in sixth grade when I woke up and suddenly found myself with boobs and birthing hips.
I'll start by saying this: I like to groove. Yes, anyone who's seen my face-melting dance moves knows this, but I am referring to having a groove, not busting one out. I like change - in fact, I love it - but I loathe and despise finding the new groove that comes with changes. Ugh. For a long time I was in denial about my love of routine and comfort. No, no, no. I'm a free spirit. Look at my nose ring and this large flannel men's shirt that I've belted and worn as a dress. I obviously cannot be fenced in with something as pedestrian as a routine. And then one day around age twenty-three, it hit me. I don't just love routine, I need routine. I have come to realize that this in no way means I'm some boring square, man. It's good to have a groove! The Emperor got a new one, and Stella got hers back. (Late 90's/Early 2000's pop culture reference, what, what!) I excel at things when I am forced out of my comfort zone and have to scramble to create a new one, and for the amount of time that I'm in said groove, I thrive.
Cue Motherhood. Emphasis on the words forced and scramble in the above sentence now. No amount of babysitting, book-reading, advice-listening, or TLC show watching could have prepared me for what it is like to have a baby. I have had baby fever since I hit puberty, and it just morphed into baby typhoid once I reached the life stage most appropriate for baby-having. I always imagined that I'd be an amazing mother - so calm, confident, and caring. On most (not all) days, I am, but it's been weird and unsettling getting here.
I'd always thought that motherhood is natural. I mean, it's what we're technically born to do, right? And in many ways, motherhood is natural, but, in many ways, it's not. When you're pregnant, you form a bond with your unborn baby. You talk to it, you feel it move, you buy clothes for it, you set up its nursery, it goes wherever you go like your tiny little unborn shadow. You can't help but bond with the little squatter! Then when you first hold your baby right after birth, you obviously love her (or him), but for me it wasn't the instant, flip over a car, take a bullet, stop a freight train kind of love. I think that has a lot to do with the physical shock the body is in during labor and delivery, but I also think it has something to do with the fact that your new baby is, for all intents and purposes, an adorable little stranger. There are so many magical moments those first few days with your new baby, but there are simultaneously not-so-magical moments like the first explosive poop and the constant, shrieking cry of an angry newborn. It reduced me (and many a new Mom) to tears on more than one occasion. "I'm her Mother! I should be able to calm her! I should be able to make her happy in any situation," has run through my head more than once, and it's hard to realize that's not always true. Babies have little personalities even from Day 1; they have likes and dislikes that must be figured out. You and your baby really do have to "learn" one another. For some Moms and Babies, this is a quick, painless process, but for me it was at times awkward, uncomfortable, and unsettling.
So many things those first few weeks kept us out of getting into our new groove. We didn't have the car seat straps adjusted correctly for the first few weeks, and when the lactation consultant pointed this out to us after we'd been driving around with her in it for five days, I felt like the most awful mother and almost burst into tears on the spot. My milk took forever to come in. Then we never clicked with feeding. Then she got reflux. Then she got Cradle Cap and Eczema. Then she had a goopie eye. There were so many things that happened in the first six weeks that made me feel completely inadequate and unprepared...and I hate not being "good" at things, especially something so important and sacred to me.
But I remember the first time I felt like a real Mom, and a good one at that. At six weeks, Lucy was fountain-puking numerous times throughout the day. She would fight the bottle and scream on and off for hours. She constantly had the hiccups and milk would come out of her nose sometimes. I knew something was wrong. "Oh, that's normal. She's just fussy. She has colic. Babies spit-up," people told me. I, however, was positive she had reflux, so I took her to the pediatrician. The doctor didn't even have to physically examine her before diagnosing her with reflux; she said every one of the symptoms I was describing was a textbook example of a baby with reflux. The physical examination just confirmed it. I felt so relieved to know that her problem was treatable and that my poor little baby would finally have relief from the pain and discomfort she'd been feeling for weeks. I only felt guilty that I'd not taken her sooner! Since then, I have been slowly but surely finding my groove as a Mom.
Are things perfect now? HA. There are still some days where I think, "When will I ever get my life together again?" (A question to which other mothers answer, "NEVER.") But it's really not that important to me, honestly. Lucy and I know each other, and we know what works for us. All my preconceived notions about what constitutes a good mother have gone far, far away. Example: I used to think that moms who let their babies sleep in their rooms indefinitely were "bad." Guess where my baby sleeps? In fact, I'd move her crib in our room and let her sleep next to us until she started high school if our room weren't so darn small.
If you were to ask me how things were going in oh, say, August, I probably would've gone vacant behind the eyes and collapsed into a twitching ball of flesh at your feet; thankfully, it is now almost November, and I feel...good. Really. I feel comfortable as a Mom, and I cannot tell you how fierce and all-consuming that initial love I felt for Lucy has become. We are bros for life. Maybe it took us a little longer than other Mommies and Babies (or maybe all those other Mommies are liars), but we are so completely bonded now.
Okay, now let's talk about what my totally awesome baby has done in the past few weeks.
- Lucy smiles a TON. She is so vocal now! She squeals and coos and is right on the brink of gut laughing. She squeals when she thinks something is funny, but still no hardy-har-har yet.
- She also "talks" to us. I have about 250000 videos on my phone of us carrying on two-way conversations with her. I have chosen to spare the Facebook community from the onslaught of these videos, but just prepare to have your newsfeed blown if I ever feel the need to grossly oversharent.
- Lucy has been so strong from day one, but she now holds her head up 100% of the time, can push up on her arms when on her tummy, can scoot all over the place, can almost roll from back to tummy (that darn left arm), and can support weight on her legs. In fact, she LOVES to stand up (with help, of course) whenever she gets the opportunity.
- At her last doctor visit in mid-October (I felt lymph nodes, people), she weighed 13 pounds and was 23.5 inches long.
- She is comfortably fitting in the 3-6 month/6 month size, depending on what brand she's wearing.
- She just got an Exersaucer/Jumperoo thingy from Mimi (because of her love of standing), and she adores it. Her feet don't touch the floor yet, and she can barely reach the toys, but the lights......oh the lights and music.
- Lucy sleeps through the night 95% of the time! Yes, she still refuses to sleep in her crib, but she will sleep in her bassinet anywhere from 8-12 hours per night. It's kind of the greatest thing ever. We're enjoying it until she starts cutting that first tooth.
- She has a bald spot on the back of her head, but her remaining hair is lightening up and becoming...dare I say...red? Her eyes have gone from grey to blue, and I hope they stay that way! Oh, She has Daisy Duck eyelashes too. So sweet.
I could go on for days about my Number One Homie, but I'll close for now. I've got a groove that I need to perfect. :)
I'll start by saying this: I like to groove. Yes, anyone who's seen my face-melting dance moves knows this, but I am referring to having a groove, not busting one out. I like change - in fact, I love it - but I loathe and despise finding the new groove that comes with changes. Ugh. For a long time I was in denial about my love of routine and comfort. No, no, no. I'm a free spirit. Look at my nose ring and this large flannel men's shirt that I've belted and worn as a dress. I obviously cannot be fenced in with something as pedestrian as a routine. And then one day around age twenty-three, it hit me. I don't just love routine, I need routine. I have come to realize that this in no way means I'm some boring square, man. It's good to have a groove! The Emperor got a new one, and Stella got hers back. (Late 90's/Early 2000's pop culture reference, what, what!) I excel at things when I am forced out of my comfort zone and have to scramble to create a new one, and for the amount of time that I'm in said groove, I thrive.
Cue Motherhood. Emphasis on the words forced and scramble in the above sentence now. No amount of babysitting, book-reading, advice-listening, or TLC show watching could have prepared me for what it is like to have a baby. I have had baby fever since I hit puberty, and it just morphed into baby typhoid once I reached the life stage most appropriate for baby-having. I always imagined that I'd be an amazing mother - so calm, confident, and caring. On most (not all) days, I am, but it's been weird and unsettling getting here.
I'd always thought that motherhood is natural. I mean, it's what we're technically born to do, right? And in many ways, motherhood is natural, but, in many ways, it's not. When you're pregnant, you form a bond with your unborn baby. You talk to it, you feel it move, you buy clothes for it, you set up its nursery, it goes wherever you go like your tiny little unborn shadow. You can't help but bond with the little squatter! Then when you first hold your baby right after birth, you obviously love her (or him), but for me it wasn't the instant, flip over a car, take a bullet, stop a freight train kind of love. I think that has a lot to do with the physical shock the body is in during labor and delivery, but I also think it has something to do with the fact that your new baby is, for all intents and purposes, an adorable little stranger. There are so many magical moments those first few days with your new baby, but there are simultaneously not-so-magical moments like the first explosive poop and the constant, shrieking cry of an angry newborn. It reduced me (and many a new Mom) to tears on more than one occasion. "I'm her Mother! I should be able to calm her! I should be able to make her happy in any situation," has run through my head more than once, and it's hard to realize that's not always true. Babies have little personalities even from Day 1; they have likes and dislikes that must be figured out. You and your baby really do have to "learn" one another. For some Moms and Babies, this is a quick, painless process, but for me it was at times awkward, uncomfortable, and unsettling.
So many things those first few weeks kept us out of getting into our new groove. We didn't have the car seat straps adjusted correctly for the first few weeks, and when the lactation consultant pointed this out to us after we'd been driving around with her in it for five days, I felt like the most awful mother and almost burst into tears on the spot. My milk took forever to come in. Then we never clicked with feeding. Then she got reflux. Then she got Cradle Cap and Eczema. Then she had a goopie eye. There were so many things that happened in the first six weeks that made me feel completely inadequate and unprepared...and I hate not being "good" at things, especially something so important and sacred to me.
But I remember the first time I felt like a real Mom, and a good one at that. At six weeks, Lucy was fountain-puking numerous times throughout the day. She would fight the bottle and scream on and off for hours. She constantly had the hiccups and milk would come out of her nose sometimes. I knew something was wrong. "Oh, that's normal. She's just fussy. She has colic. Babies spit-up," people told me. I, however, was positive she had reflux, so I took her to the pediatrician. The doctor didn't even have to physically examine her before diagnosing her with reflux; she said every one of the symptoms I was describing was a textbook example of a baby with reflux. The physical examination just confirmed it. I felt so relieved to know that her problem was treatable and that my poor little baby would finally have relief from the pain and discomfort she'd been feeling for weeks. I only felt guilty that I'd not taken her sooner! Since then, I have been slowly but surely finding my groove as a Mom.
Are things perfect now? HA. There are still some days where I think, "When will I ever get my life together again?" (A question to which other mothers answer, "NEVER.") But it's really not that important to me, honestly. Lucy and I know each other, and we know what works for us. All my preconceived notions about what constitutes a good mother have gone far, far away. Example: I used to think that moms who let their babies sleep in their rooms indefinitely were "bad." Guess where my baby sleeps? In fact, I'd move her crib in our room and let her sleep next to us until she started high school if our room weren't so darn small.
If you were to ask me how things were going in oh, say, August, I probably would've gone vacant behind the eyes and collapsed into a twitching ball of flesh at your feet; thankfully, it is now almost November, and I feel...good. Really. I feel comfortable as a Mom, and I cannot tell you how fierce and all-consuming that initial love I felt for Lucy has become. We are bros for life. Maybe it took us a little longer than other Mommies and Babies (or maybe all those other Mommies are liars), but we are so completely bonded now.
Okay, now let's talk about what my totally awesome baby has done in the past few weeks.
- Lucy smiles a TON. She is so vocal now! She squeals and coos and is right on the brink of gut laughing. She squeals when she thinks something is funny, but still no hardy-har-har yet.
- She also "talks" to us. I have about 250000 videos on my phone of us carrying on two-way conversations with her. I have chosen to spare the Facebook community from the onslaught of these videos, but just prepare to have your newsfeed blown if I ever feel the need to grossly oversharent.
- Lucy has been so strong from day one, but she now holds her head up 100% of the time, can push up on her arms when on her tummy, can scoot all over the place, can almost roll from back to tummy (that darn left arm), and can support weight on her legs. In fact, she LOVES to stand up (with help, of course) whenever she gets the opportunity.
- At her last doctor visit in mid-October (I felt lymph nodes, people), she weighed 13 pounds and was 23.5 inches long.
- She is comfortably fitting in the 3-6 month/6 month size, depending on what brand she's wearing.
- She just got an Exersaucer/Jumperoo thingy from Mimi (because of her love of standing), and she adores it. Her feet don't touch the floor yet, and she can barely reach the toys, but the lights......oh the lights and music.
- Lucy sleeps through the night 95% of the time! Yes, she still refuses to sleep in her crib, but she will sleep in her bassinet anywhere from 8-12 hours per night. It's kind of the greatest thing ever. We're enjoying it until she starts cutting that first tooth.
- She has a bald spot on the back of her head, but her remaining hair is lightening up and becoming...dare I say...red? Her eyes have gone from grey to blue, and I hope they stay that way! Oh, She has Daisy Duck eyelashes too. So sweet.
I could go on for days about my Number One Homie, but I'll close for now. I've got a groove that I need to perfect. :)
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