Stuff I want to remember

This Saturday our little Emma Rosalie will be a month old.

Whaaat?

I'd like to say something sappy, like, "I can't believe time goes so fast", or "She's growing up before my very eyes".  However, my sentiments lean more towards declarations like,

"It's only been a month?! It feels like an eternity since I had her!"

Because seriously. It has.

I miss sleep that lasts longer than 4 hours.

It's pretty easy to get caught up in all the things about motherhood that, so far, I don't care much for, but I want this post to be about all the things from Emma's first month that I will miss when she is past these stages.

• Those annoying sleep noises that I complained about previously.  They make me insane, but I know that one day I will miss them.
• The way her ever-fluffy cheeks smash her lips into a pucker when she is laying on the side of her face
• Kissing her fingers
• Kissing her toes
• Kissing her belly
• Kissing her little mouth when she smiles in her sleep
• The look on her face when the first cold wipe hits during diaper changes
• The pathetic expression she wears when she is finally wrapped up warm in her bath towel and stops crying
• The way her monkey arms sprawl everywhere, whether she's awake or asleep
• The desperate way she nurses when she is really hungry (i.e. after those blessedly long naps) or when she's really upset (i.e. when she wakes up before I'm finished with my shower and has to lay there... not a happy baby)
• The way she puts her hand on my chest when she is nursing
• The way she kicks whatever touches her feet while she is nursing
• Finding her sleeping with her blanket kicked off and her legs sprawled all about
• Her deep sleep cuddles before I lay her back down after night time feedings
• Her bedhead
• The look on her face that is noticeably "pleased", even if she hasn't quite yet figured out how to smile on purpose
• The way she always turns her head to face me when we nap together
• Watching her try to raise her head during tummy time
• The way she bobs her head up and down on my chest when she is trying to look at me but can't hold her head up for more than a second at a time
• The sour face she makes when we try to put a binky in her mouth
• How tiny she looks sleeping on Darren's chest
• How tiny she looks in Darren's big daddy hands
• How snuggly and sweet she looks when she first wakes up
• The way she rips herself off the nursing spout sometimes and just lays there on my lap, totally unconscious, with milk trickling down all her chubby little chins.
• Watching her lick her chops after I wipe the spit up off her face.

I hope I never forget these things. They sure make the cruddy parts worth it. We're totally besties.

Smiley baby

1. How am I supposed to get anything done with a baby here??

2. On that note, I got the bathroom clean last night.  I cannot tell you how awesome it feels to be able to say I finally accomplished something--not 4 steps of something--all steps of something. Major confidence booster, and the bathroom smells rightly fresh.  Now to just finish folding that pile of clothes on the couch that has lasted 5 days...

3. Emma makes a lot of noise when she sleeps.  If she keeps that up, she is going to find herself in her own "bedroom" much sooner than anybody anticipated.  I assume it doesn't bother Darren since he makes no indication of noticing it, but I hear every single squeak, grunt, sigh, snort, giggle, and cry.  Heaven HELP ME.

4. The noises increase in volume and frequency the closer she is to finally waking up and demanding sustenance.  It is torture to listen to. The best I can compare it to is waking up 5 minutes before your alarm goes off.  You stay in bed because you deserve those 5 minutes, and you try to sleep, but sometimes your body simply refuses, so it rides out the clock and those 5 minutes feel like an all too short eternity.  An eternity that you should be sleeping through.  Anyway, it can take anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour for her to finally wake up, so you can imagine how I feel drifting off to sleep between sounds, thinking that every sound is "the" sound.  The one that means she's awake and I can kiss sleep goodbye.

5. We really need another bedroom...

6. She is sleeping on my bed behind me currently, making all kinds of racket. It's super cute and annoying all at once.

7. I caught a picture of her smiling [in her sleep]! Because of how her nose is smooshed into my shoulder, she kind of resembles Olivia the pig, which isn't the most flattering comparison, but.....she was the one posing, not me. Notice the dimple! =)

8. I am in love with this baby girl.

Two-week check up

• Since we are still feeding on demand, the stars aligned just right for it her to, of course, be hungry at the time for her appointment
• That wasn't so bad at first because I could just feed her in the waiting room--and cart her dead weight attached to my person back and forth between the window and my seat while taking care of paperwork and insurance cards and whatnot
• Her meal ended too soon, which made her unhappy
• They pricked her heal for her second round of newborn screenings, which made her exceedingly unhappy
• I did not feel the urge to cry during the torture, but my Comforting Muscle reared its head in a way I've never experienced.  I just want to scoop her up and get her away from the mean nurse (who was actually very nice and very quick)
• I feel like I owe her cuddles for the rest of the day
• She calmed down to really sad whimpers by the time we were going home
• She ate desperately when we got home....poor, sad, hungry little thing
• But then she slept like a rock: 

• I slept like a rock with her.  I couldn't leave her to nap alone after all that trauma! She needed my snuggles.
• Oh! And they didn't tell me all her stats, but she has gained about 2 pounds since birth.  She weighed 9-something as of this morning.

Honesty time:

I want to share this link because it describes the emotions (roller coaster!) I've felt since Emma was born much clearer than I've been able to while speaking with Darren or pondering by myself.  I feel like every mom could probably benefit from it. I know it was super comforting to me, and I'm so glad I'm not the only one who feels/has felt this way. Definitely worth a read. I especially love the last couple of paragraphs.

One day this new life will be my normal (says the new mom as she types an entire post one-handed... =))

"I Became a Mother and Died to Live"

Our angel is 2 weeks old today

More thoughts on Baby

1. I literally feel sorry for everybody on earth who isn't Darren or me. People don't realize just how much they are missing out on.  Even her sleep grunting is adorable, and something I almost want to share with the world, however, I will refrain. I've met lots of babies, but seriously--none of them has ever been this cool.

2. She and I are about ready to start venturing out into the world together. I think. I found myself wishing I had my car this morning so we could go somewhere...anywhere.  I just might keep it tomorrow and send Darren to work in the truck.

3. She peed on my bed this morning and then had the gall to protest the half bath she got. Silly little girl...

4. I can't stop kissing her.

5. Darren can't either.

6. We are smitten.

7. I've reached a new level of trust in her naps: Today I took both a bath AND a shower, and I didn't spend the whole time obsessing over whether or not she was going to wake up any second.  It felt so good.  When I spoke to the nurse at my OB's office on the phone last week about my "battle scars" from delivery, she asked if I was taking a bath two or three times a day because "it would really help".  I almost laughed, but instead I kind of lied and said, "Yeah, when I can".

Which means I've taken two since this kid was born, including today's. Hard to do more than that when you spend the whole day trying to learn to anticipate what the tiny thing wants/needs and are terrified of not being with her every single second.

8. The good news is that I am learning, and we are making progress =)

9. Sometimes I hold her while she naps because I know I'll miss her if I put her in the bedroom and shut the door so I can get things done.

10. Oh! I don't believe I have mentioned this yet, but I can wear my ring again! It's so nice to feel married when I look at my hand instead of just feeling fat because my fingers got so huge. I love this ring.

Mini-him

Guess which one of us she takes after...

I love it.  She has the important features from me that I care about (like my ears and the ability to burp like a lumberjack), but other than those things I was hoping she would look like Darren.  Scrolling through his baby pictures yesterday I discovered so many little expressions captured by the camera that I see in her face on a daily basis.  It almost makes me feel like I get to spend the day with him even though he's at work.

Thoughts about the wee one

• I have a kid

• She was born February 2 and measured in at 7 lbs 5 oz and 19.5 inches long. Perfection.

A sampling of the thoughts I've had over the last week:

• There is no longer anything extra alive inside of me 
• How did I survive labor?
• I can hug Darren without a belly bump
• My boobies hurt
• My baby is adorable
• My baby looks like the victim of a carbon monoxide leak for the majority of the day
• Whoever said breastfed babies don't have stinky poo lied
• I wonder if I will get to put on make-up today?
• What have I NOT watched on Netflix?
• I cannot wait until I stop hurting
• I need to get out of the house
• Solo Wal-Mart trip Friday night! Yes I did, and it was splendid
• She's judging me...I can see it in her eyes
• I love little Emma

I am working on writing up her birth story, and true to form it is the wordiest document in the world.  I cannot make it concise (because it is to document a rather momentous occasion, therefore every detail seems significant...because it is).  That being said, when it is completed, I doubt very much that I will post the whole thing here. It would go on forever, so I will instead give you the highlights, which will still be plenty long:

• Very early labor began on Monday night, the 28th of January with weird back pain and continued Braxton Hicks contractions.
• That pain/contractions came and went as the week progressed (becoming more painful each day), with a marked increase in fatigue and irritation for me.
• I went on a couple of hopeful walks during the week that not only hurt like the dickens, but felt productive.
• Friday morning around 4:15 I was awakened by a couple of painful cramps.
• During the course of the morning I timed contractions and prepared for the appointment I already had scheduled with my doctor.
• She informed me that I was experiencing early labor, and was still only dilated to a 1.  However, I was about 80% effaced. Angels sang when she said that.
• My blood pressure was a little higher than usual, so she sent me to the hospital to be monitored.
• After an hour I was sent home.
• The cramping continued throughout the day, slowly worsening, but not far exceeding the worst menstrual cramps I've ever experienced (which is saying something, because I'm a nasty cramper...periods handicap me).  I was having to breath through them, but nothing too dramatic.  I had enough strength to hang out at my parents' that night and vent about still being pregnant.  Kudos to Mom for letting me =)
• Around midnight my back caught fire.
• Then my hips.
• Then the upper part of my legs.
• I took a hot bath.
• It didn't stop.
• I never fell asleep.
• According to the paper on which I documented time, I began timing contractions at 1:51 AM.
• Somewhere in there I began to whimper a lot.
• The whimpering turned into full out sobbing as each contraction came and went. 
• I woke Darren, hoping he could help me make a decision about going to the hospital since my contractions were averaging 4-7 minutes apart, and drifting closer together at an alarming rate (everything was alarming to me).  I was scared to cry wolf, especially in the middle of the night.
• He was no help, but in his defense he was only half-awake. I doubt he sensed the urgency of my emotional state.
• I returned to the kitchen (where I had been pacing for the better part of an hour) to call the hospital and get their advice, but I couldn't make myself stop crying long enough to make the call, and though my spirit was broken, my pride was fully intact.  I was not about to talk on the phone with those weird sounds coming out of me (it was the really pathetic I'm-all-alone-in-the-world-and-in-horrible-physical-pain-that-won't-stop kind of blubbering).
• Then, with Scarlett O'Hara-esque resolution, my brain suddenly took control of itself and I marched into the bedroom to get the husband up because we were going to the hospital. 
• That was at 3:03 AM
• My tears were dried up, just like that.
• He looked rather startled, but got out of bed and gathered his things.  Several minutes, too many contractions, and a few lame jokes later, we were on our way.
• The drive was miserable.
• The nurse hooked me up to the monitors and said they would watch me for an hour and a half.
• That was at 4:30 AM
• She confirmed that I was still progressed to the point my doctor had indicated less than 24 hours previous.
• She also confirmed that I had "that look", and the pain and exhaustion were real.
• Oh, and if I wasn't dilated significantly by the end of an hour and a half I was going to be sent home. Not cool.
• At 6 o'clock she checked me again and declared that I was at a 4 and that I was not going home.
• We weren't leaving without a baby.
• Julie wasn't able to make it due to a temple trip (major bummer...I really wanted her to be able to be there), but my other sister Amanda rose to the occasion and replaced her (sorry Julie!) as my photographer.
• Or so I thought.
• Amanda is fantastic labor support, and should seriously consider becoming certified as a doula.
• Turns out the doctor who delivered didn't allow cameras during delivery anyway, so...whatever.  I'm grateful for the pictures we did get.
• I labored forever, it seemed.
• The doctor (not mine, mind you...the other one. The one she shares an office with. A man.) broke my water when I was at about a 5.
• Though I was resolved in the car to scratch my original plan and get an epidural, being in my bed, conquering contraction after contraction gave me strength.
• But then they got the best of me.
• I requested medicine, and was granted such.
• It made things more manageable, but after a while the contractions overcame the effects of the medicine, except for the loopiness. I felt stoned.
• Again, I pushed myself as much as I could through the contractions, but I reached a point where I could not, for the life of me, control my breathing.  Darren, Amanda, and the nurse were super amazing and did as much as they could to talk me through them, but I became hysterical (I felt hysterical....the tears returned, and I became a hyperventilating mess of nastiness).
• I also vomited a few times.
• Did I mention it was back labor? Tres awful.
• I debated in my head for about an hour before I finally worked up the courage to request an epidural (no pride left....I was desperate). 
• I was at a 7 by then.
• The relief was tremendous, and the rest of labor was a piece of cake.
• Though the epidural was different from my original plan, I don't feel guilty at all.  I gave it my best shot, and I am super proud of myself for lasting as long as I did. 
• The nurse checked me probably around 2:30 PM and invited Darren to look deep inside to see his daughter's head.
• I asked if that meant I was at a 10. The answer was a beautiful "yes".
• The doctor was returned.  The nurses set up shop.  The doc and my Darren discussed delivery procedures.
• After an estimated 15-20 minutes of pushing during contractions (estimated by me...may not be reliable), my baby popped out and landed in my husband's hands in a goopy mess.
• Major props to the doctor for letting Darren participate so much.
• She didn't make much noise.  She mostly whined in a really shrill and girly little voice.
• It was the hardest thing I have ever endured.
• It was amazing.