It’s kind of surreal when I think back to those first few days. She was so tiny. So fragile. I didn’t know what to do with her. I hadn’t changed a diaper since my only baby sitting job in junior high school. How would I know what to do to teach this still-perfect baby to eat, talk, run, be polite, and think for herself? It is up to me and Big D to see that she becomes a productive member of society, who thinks about others instead of just of herself; to value education and take advantage of the opportunities to advance and grow; to understand the difference between wants and needs. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders. When I held her in the hospital, we hadn’t messed up yet. She was perfect.
We got her home and visitors began pouring in to see her. We hadn’t slept a wink since leaving the security of the Labor & Delivery floor. The Monster wouldn’t stay swaddled, so she would only sleep on one of our chests. Big D and I took shifts all day and all night. One of us would stay up with her until the point of passing out from exhaustion while the other parent slept. Then we’d switch. Because I was breastfeeding, my shifts were more often, since The Monster ate every two hours or so. Most of the time, she’d eat some, fall asleep, then wake up 30 minutes later hungry again. I was a mess. Sleep deprivation was getting the best of me. At 3:00 a.m. one morning, I e-mailed Margaret in a panic, begging for advice to help The Monster sleep and reassurance that while most parents feel the way I was feeling the first week, it would most certainly get better. She called me the next morning and told me what I needed to hear. And she was right. Things are much better. And they continue to improve every day.
Later that week, my pediatrician told me about the Miracle Blanket – which is essentially a straight jacket to keep your baby swaddled. I overnighted one to our house immediately. I am not exaggerating when I say that this blanket literally saved our lives. One can go without sleep only so long. The new grandparents would stop by and offer to help out, but bless their hearts, they were sometimes more trouble than they were worth at the time. My mom did come by to hold The Monster for a few hours so Big D and I could nap. Maybe we should have asked for more of those moments. It’s not like visitors wanted to see us anyway. Maybe we should have scheduled them to visit for 2 hours every 4 hours and handed them the baby the second they walked in the door and immediately turned around to head to the master bedroom for some shut eye. Maybe I should have admitted that I needed help.
We also got a sleep-positioner-nest-thingy for our bed. I swore I would never co-sleep, but I decided that we had to do what we could to get some sleep. We slowly slipped into a routine. I would feed The Monster (which would result in a snoozefest), hand her over to Big D, and jump in the shower. Big D would burp her, swaddle her, and then attempt to rock her to sleep. Within a few minutes, he would be in the bathroom begging me to hurry my shower up, because The Monster was alert and hungry again. My five minutes alone would turn into a 3 minute power shower. Then I’d feed her again, and Big D would take her. I’d inevitably fall asleep while he was trying to rock her to sleep, which just pissed him off. I guess if he was up, I should have been too. But somehow that rule didn’t apply if I was up feeding The Monster in the middle of the night again. Eventually, Big D would get her asleep, place the swaddled mummy in the nest, and I’d go to sleep next to her. We never wanted to leave her side when she was in the positioner. I even slept on my right side facing her, never ever turning onto my back, stomach, or left side, so that I could open my eyes at any given gurgle to make sure she was okay.
Big D went back to work the next week. We were in a new house, so we had foolishly scheduled warranty work to be performed during my maternity leave. I was already having trouble breastfeeding The Monster with family and friends stopping by, let alone a strange man wondering around the house checking out the air conditioning vents or repairing drywall. So then I’d have to plan feedings around when the workers were supposed to be there. I don’t know how we got through that.
I felt alone. I felt like I was never going to get through it. I felt like our house was always going to be a pigsty, and that I was never going to sleep well again.
My best friend came to town when The Monster was about three weeks old. That night, Big D got really sick and was quarantined upstairs. We couldn’t risk The Monster getting sick too. When he dared to venture downstairs, he wore an N95 mask to help slow the spread of germs. Thank goodness Megan was there – she played nanny, cook, personal shopper, and psychologist all weekend long. Monday morning, she packed up her stuff, and I burst into tears. “How I am I going to do this without you???” I was seriously freaked out. “How am I going to get dressed for work while holding this child???” She gave me reassurance that other mothers have probably asked the same questions, but somehow humans as a whole have gotten through it. She reminded me to take it a day at a time. When she got back home, she immediately started e-mailing me “mom blogs.” Her message said something like, “I know it will be hard to find the time to read these, but just know you’re not alone...” And she was right. I especially connected with Sundry Mourning. She seemed to be feeling the same “I love this child so much – oh my God, did you seriously just puke again? – oh wow, your feet are so cute!” roller coaster that I was feeling. Thus started my love of blogs.
That month was hard. But somehow we got through it. That blank stare from The Monster has been replaced by smiles and giggles. She can hold up her head, roll over, and sit up on her own. She plays with toys instead of staring at them with a look that says, “what the F am I supposed to do with that?” We’ve gotten feedings down. She sleeps through the night and can put herself back to sleep when she does wake up. We even dare to take her to a restaurant on occasion. She is the sweetest girl I’ve ever seen, and though I had semi-serious thoughts of returning her to the hospital, I wouldn’t dream of it now. I want to keep her perfect forever in a little bubble of protection. I suppose my parents still feel that way about me. I don’t know how babies go from this perfect little being to a sarcastic grown up, but luckily I have a long time to wait before that happens.
This morning, I didn’t have to be at work until a little bit later than normal. The Monster woke up at her usual time (the engineer in me LOVES how scheduled she is), so Big D and I got to play with her without feeling rushed. She’s sitting up on her own, even on the soft bed. We just played and played. She delicately practiced her “da da da.” Pumpkin jumped up on the bed and gave her a sniff down while she attempted to pet him (which means she grabbed a tuft of his fur). She rolled over onto her tummy, got up on her hands and knees, and started rocking back and forth – attempting to crawl. She is the cutest thing in the world, and Big D and I are so lucky to have her in our lives. Sometimes I miss the luxurious spontaneity of our pre-parent lives, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is my everything. Happy Seven Month Birthday, my little Hungry Monster.
My little sweetheart on the day she was born.
Margaret visited us at the hospital.
In her sleep positioner and Miracle Blanket.
Megan visited in December.
Smiles began.
And laughing.
Mr. Pumpkin isn't afraid of her.
Oh the smiles... how they warm my heart.
She's such a big girl now!
