Roly Poly Baby

As of last Wednesday, baby C is dazzling us with her newest party trick - rolling over! We have been working on this trick for a couple weeks now. Once she began rolling to her side, I started using a blanket to gently roll her back and forth while singing a silly song, making the motion fun and familiar instead of scary. Then last week, at 19 weeks old, with a look of sheer determination, she did it all by herself! I then, of course, spent the rest of the day getting her to do it over and over again while I took pictures and videos and cheered her on. 

Each day, she gets stronger and stronger. Just this morning, she began refusing to lay down for her bath. She much prefers to sit up and smile at herself in the mirror. She holds her own bottle now (with a little assistance from Mommy) and pulls it away when she's full. I love watching her become this persistent, independent little person. I just know that sitting up is right around the corner.

I always knew I wanted to be a mom. Since I was little, I had lists of hypothetical baby names and ideas of where I would live and where my kids would go to school. I have never been afraid of trading in my car for a mini van. I always knew I would be a mom. But I had no idea it would be this much fun and had no idea I could love one human being so very much. Husband and I decided the only way to even remotely describe it is that it has the intensity of your first love - the all consuming thoughts of adoration paired with infatuation, the need to be with that person every second of every day without ever growing tired of their company, the thought that you would rather die than have anything bad ever happen to them - times 10. It's unreal how much I love this little girl and how many hours I can spend staring at her, watching her roll over (over and over again), and dancing around the room trying to make her laugh.

I have a beautiful life.

Bragging Rights

4 months old

I have bragging rights. It's my right as a mother. 

So I will cash in that chip right now when I announce that at her four month check up, C did so well that "preemie" was taken off of her chart! She is meeting all the major milestones of a typical four month old, both developmentally and physically. Weighing in at a whopping 12.5 pounds and 24.5" long, she is 30th percentile in weight and 70th in height (which were my usual percentiles at her age). There is no doubt about it. This girl will be tall.

Just look at those feet! She gets them honestly...

She's a cutie. And oh so funny.  I literally laugh at her all day, and she at me because I'm hilarious. Well, that, and the fact that she has no source of comparison. She's the perfect blend of her parents: mostly laid back with a slight flare for the dramatic; and I am constantly amazed at her ability to communicate her needs with us with a systematic string of screams, coos, and babbles. I am loving how alert she is these days as we cut back on her daytime naps and have more time for playing, reading, and watching Baby Einstein. And just the other day, I realized that she was strong enough to hold onto me while I held her. This may be my favorite development of all so far. 

Overall, she's perfection wrapped up with a bow. I just can't imagine what we ever did before her (or how much time I must have spent doing unnecessary things like applying makeup and washing my hair).

I have the best job ever.

1 day old

4 months old

A Few Minutes for Mommy

The sun slowly melted into the deep blue lake as I mounted the wave runner and took off on a much needed solo ride. The lake was calm after a short summer rain chased the day's usual traffic back to their docks. I made my way to an empty slue and let the engine idle, taking in the uninterrupted sounds of nature only minutes away from civilization. The scenery resembled a work of art, perfectly reflected in the water's surface, smooth as glass, and I breathed in the warm, humid air that follows a hot summer shower. I was alone, at peace, and recharged.

As I headed back to the house, the wind ripped through my hair, eyes squinted at the sunset. I docked the wave runner, unzipped my life jacket, and went inside to reclaim my role. Twenty minutes of "me" time had passed and I felt rejuvenated as I prepared my daughter's bottle and kissed her warm, pink cheek. Mommy's back.

It is amazing how guilt so easily accompanies motherhood. I spend my days and nights wholly enveloped in this mesmerizing little girl and honestly love every minute of it. But, while every moment of every day now revolves around taking care of another person, so easily I forget to take a moment to take care of myself. In only 20 minutes, I was able to recharge and all was right again; but the guilt associated with wanting to still be a person is palpable. 

I hate that in wanting to grab dinner and drinks with a friend and actually use both hands to eat, I feel a sense of abandonment. My daughter is almost four months old and I can count the times I have left her alone with my sister or Husband on one hand and have yet to hire a babysitter for a much needed date night. 


Don't get me wrong. I love love love being able to stay home with C full time and am so thankful every day that I can; but in order to be the best mom I can be, I can't let go of the person I am. I want my daughter to benefit from having a well rounded mother who has friends and activities outside of the home. I want her to grasp the importance of relationships. I owe it to her and to myself to be a whole person and to have a little "me" time every now and then. I know this. But, will the guilt ever subside? 

My gut tells me it won't.

A Little Something Extra

Yesterday, C turned 15 weeks old. For those who don't have children, she's 3 1/2 months old. Apparently, once you give birth, you then measure the child's entire first year in weeks. It seems odd, but each week is so very different. The things she is doing in her third week of month 3 are so different than the first week. I know it's silly. I'm a recent convert. (Prepare to be annoyed when I measure the second year in months).

But C was born 4 1/2 weeks early. Often I forget this little tid bit as I read all of the mommy blogs and books and emails out there that are telling me what my child should or shouldn't be doing by now. I was reminded of this factor while doing some light reading last night: Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. The issue of sleep has been upon us recently as I have contracted my second bacterial infection in a one month span and often go entire days without remembering to drink water in between my coffee(s). I'm a little sleep deprived to say the least.

Operation Goodbye Hemangioma continues to go smoothly, but this also means that I continue to administer medication exactly every eight hours. The third dose of the day falls at 11:30 pm and the interruption in C's sleep tends to effect the whole sleeping-through-the-night thing.

So I consulted the book in hopes of a brilliant answer. Instead, I learned that C just might not be ready to sleep through the night yet, and that no amount of rice cereal or sleep training will change her inherent need to wake up at 4:30 am for a little mommy time.

It then occurred to me. I get an extra month.

Yes, I have to suffer through an extra month (at least) of middle of the night feedings and sleep deprivation; but I get to have an extra month (at least) of middle of the night feedings. Those sweet groggy moments of feeding and snuggles that will be gone all too quickly. I get a little extra time.

It is difficult to see my happy, healthy child as a preemie. She is stubborn and determined to her core and it is easy to forget that this strong willed little girl was once only 5 pounds. Today, she struggles to sit up, crying if I place her flat on her back for even a moment. She lifts her head with assurance and smiles a huge gummy grin when she succeeds. She is so very big in my eyes, yet still so very small. And as she grows and develops each day, I take pride in how far she has come, throw the rule books out the window, and relish the little something extra I get as the mommy of a preemie.

Mommy Brain

Last night, after I rejoiced over a poopy diaper, Husband informed me I officially suffered from "Mommy Brain" in which I was incapable of talking about anything but "mom stuff." 

He is so right. I have lost touch with the real world.

I am totally okay with this.

Welcome to my world. It's so much cuter here:

Size Matters

14 weeks

It's all about size lately. How big is she now? How much is she eating? How much medicine is she taking? How long is she sleeping? How....how....how...?

How big? Too big! I blink my eyes and she gains an ounce, grows 1/4 of an inch. She has grown out of newborn diapers and I have packed away a box full of newborn onesies and footed pajamas.

How much is she eating? Enough to keep me in my day job of cleaning and making bottles. 

How much medicine? Enough to make a difference on day 22 of OGH:

Day 1 - Day 22
Side note: is there anything sweeter than a sleeping baby?

How long is she sleeping? Long enough for me to finish one load of laundry, start a load of dishes, attempt to make the house not look like a small explosion just went off, and grab just enough sleep to allow me to hazily function the next day.

As I rocked my nearly 12 pound (12 pounds!) baby to sleep tonight, struggling to still cradle her like a newborn, my arm tingling beneath her weight, I was painfully aware of her size and how rapidly it is increasing. I sleep for 4 hours and wake up to find a beautiful little morning person, more expressive than the day before. I blink and my three month old is teething. I turn around and she is nearly holding her head up on her own.  Where is the time going?

Along with all the other unsolicited advice you receive from complete strangers as a new mom, is the warning that they grow up much too fast. Well, random lady in the Target checkout line, you were right. I look at my sweet little three month old and realize that she is already one quarter of a year old! She has been in this world for 14 weeks in which she has learned to make playful noises, to smile, to follow the sound of my voice. She can push her tiny body up on her tiny little arms when on her tummy, and can grab toys and purposefully put them in her mouth. 

Each day she evolves more and more into the person she is supposed to be. At 14 weeks old, I can already tell she is stubborn like her Mommy, but easygoing like Daddy. She is dramatic (her god-given right as the first born) and has us wrapped around her little finger. She likes bright lights and mirrors and kisses on her chubby little cheeks. She's ticklish. Mommy's bedtime stories put her to sleep while Daddy's make her ready to play. We've already learned so much about this precious little girl yet still have so very much to discover. 

It's difficult to believe that 14 weeks have passed by already and that our once 5 pounds, 2 ounces daughter is now nearly twelve pounds and that the same little girl who was once swallowed by preemie clothes is now wearing size 3 months. While our daughter grows and changes each day, so does our world, living as if we ceased to exist before her and never looking back. We have grown from a family of two to one of three and that size matters most of all.

Count Your Blessings

In high school, I spent my Wednesday afternoons volunteering with my friend Sallye at Angels for the Elderly, an assisted living home in Montgomery. Sallye is a gifted pianist and played hymns for the residents while I visited, played cards, and sang along. Each week, she asked for requests and each week, she played the same classic hymns from the Baptist Hymnal. For some reason tonight, one of their favorites, Count Your Blessings, is running through my head. 

Count your blessings. Count them one by one.

As I sing the chorus over and over in my head, I can't help but think of all the blessings in my life. 

I am awake because my little girl is asleep on my chest and I can't bare to move her. Her tiny body is scrunched into a little ball, her head rests upon my chest, her right arm lies limp on my arm. Her body trembles with each breath, her tiny lips pursed as if she were deep in thought. I could easily move her to her cradle beside me and finally close my eyes after such a long, eventful day... but I don't. Instead, I drink it in and know that moments like these are what motherhood is all about. I know that she won't be this small forever and that I will long for these days when she is too big or too old or just to wiggly to contain.

As Catherine's original due date passed by last Friday, I couldn't help but think back to her birthday and remember what a scary, exciting, and wonderful day it was. I began that day alone and terrified and ended it with a healthy newborn daughter and a family of three. More often than not, things do not go as planned and my one month and two days old daughter on my 40th week of gestation proves it. What a blessing it is that I had friends and a talented medical team to make an otherwise terrifying experience, a celebration.

40 weeks "pregnant"
3-25-11

In the past five weeks, we have welcomed countless friends and family into our home, showering us with gifts, providing food when we were too tired to shop for groceries, let alone cook something, and loving our child boundlessly. Even before we could come home, our hospital room overflowed with visitors. I am humbled by our support system and elated that Catherine is already surrounded by such a large safety net of love. 

When I sit back and examine my life, I find nothing but happiness. I'm not sure what we have done to deserve such greatness. But, tonight, I attempt to count my blessings, and realize that I simply cannot count that high...