After reading and rereading my last blog and noticing various typos and areas that could've been improved, I also noticed I left something out that I'm sure a lot of people were wondering about. How did you feel when you first held her? I didn't include that because honestly the entire entry is just the retelling of what happened, to answer how I felt at such a monumental moment actually requires some pretty deep thought, not just recollection. However now at 6:44 AM with coffee at hand I think I might just be able to describe it, or get close enough.
When they first put her in my arms I felt a mixture of wonder, apprehension, heart break, love, and pure dread. Wonder because I had never made anything so perfect before. At the moment she was flawless; small, contained, and perfect in every way. Looking at her felt like I could've been gazing over a canyon, or feeling very small in a boat speeding over the ocean. Both of which also come with feelings of apprehension. Apprehension because, I've waited nine months, what now? I've read the books, surfed the websites, talked with moms and midwives, watched other women care for children out in the world and now suddenly I am completely unsure how to go about anything. Here is a little thing bawling in my arms and I have no means to make it stop except stick my boob in it's mouth, which is extremely effective! She latches on perfectly about the 3rd try or so and all goes quiet. Then my heart breaks because that was a small sample of a noise I will be hearing numerous times and I already know I won't be able to fix it every single time. My heart breaks because her heart will break. I already imagine every hardship she will face just as every girl has: bullies, snotty girls, lying boys, self-esteem issues, social anxiety, and worst of all grief. But as she's nursing she looks up at me with her big, dark eyes shining like black marbles and heartbreak is replaced with love. Despite what may happen in the future, right now all she knows is that she was hungry and she loves me. And I love her. With love comes dread because I love her so much I'm afraid to fail her. I'm afraid that I will be unsure, won't be able to step up, will fall short of the things she needs but just as it was introduced by love, my dread is quelled by love. Because I love her, I will never fail.
Since I had a c-section I ended up staying 3 days in the hospital, and nearly more. Every time I've visited someone staying at the hospital, for some reason, it always seemed kind of fun to stay (having never stayed myself). I mean you don't have to do anything, you get food brought to you, you can watch TV all day, chances are your room is pretty high up so you get to see killer sunrises, not to mention you're probably being fed painkillers. So what's not to like? Turns out a lot.
Turns out not doing anything makes me stir-crazy and restless, turns out that the hospital beds feel like napping mats on top of rocks, turns out that the food is decent at best, turns out that there's still never anything worth watching on TV, turns out that you don't give a crap about sunrises because your back and butt hurt from being in the dang bed all day, and it turns out that nurses and janitors and food service come in and out all hours of the day any night so you never get any dang privacy.
So in short, what I thought what might be kind of fun and relaxing was pretty boring and horrible. Not to mention the fact that my room was pretty small and with all the people filing in and the table on wheels, the big chair, and the clear box for the baby to sleep in the space was very cramped and no matter how many times I limped around trying to tidy up, it always appeared cluttered simply because there was nowhere to put anything. Yes, I was dying to leave with our new baby.
Out of all the bad though I gotta say that the staff was really nice and I enjoyed going on my shuffling little walks around the mother and baby unit. The food was actually OK for hospital stuff, I only had one meal that looked like vomit, smelled like vomit, tasted like vomit and probably was vomit.
Once we did get home things were pretty stressful. Not because of Dixie but because I had just barely been cleared to go home but I had really high blood pressure and had to monitor it constantly. If it stayed as high as it was I was heading right back into the hospital. I just really really didn't want to go back. Anyhow it caused all kinds of worry but ended up being ok.
The first few weeks weren't really too bad. Kind of funny because I wanted a natural and drug free birth but I ended up getting a c-section and staying zooted on percocets for the first 2 weeks of her life. Ain't that the way it goes sometimes? As I think most babies do (and if they don't, I don't want to know) she was either sleeping, nursing, or crying until well.....this week.
Now she is a little over a month and little fun things have started happening that make it all worthwhile. She smiles now, makes happy noises, and enjoys playing with toys. She hit 1 month and suddenly began to notice her environment. I guess it all gets better from here.
Thank god that 1rst month is over!
I'll be stoked when the third gets here and she starts doing things like laughing and social smiling, but I'm sure part of me will be a little sad that my tiny little squeaky is already not so tiny.
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