-Ethan is three weeks old today. I can’t even process that information. This is already going too fast.

-Even though I actually have time to get some stuff done this morning, I’m waiting until my grandmother gets here and using this time to procrastinate.

-I just found a flea on my dog and immediately Googled to see if fleas pose a risk to babies. And then I checked prices of powerful anti-flea stuff. If there is one thing I will not tolerate, it is unwelcome critters that bite in my home. Sorry, Percy, looks like you’re getting several baths.

-It’s not quite 10:00 AM and I’m already wondering whether I could convince someone to bring over a little tequila so I can make a margarita later.

-Mommy guilt: last night, I was halfway through folding laundry when Ethan started crying. I let him cry until I had finished with the laundry because I was worried I’d forget about it if I went to him right away.

-After replacing the damn thing about fourteen times last night, I’m seriously considering trying to figure out if there’s a way to safely design some kind of headgear that prevents babies from dropping their pacifiers and freaking out about it in the middle of the night. Probably not, but if there is, I’ll be a millionaire. It would mean a lot more sleep for us while Ethan works on getting more coordinated (he can’t quite get his hand in his mouth yet. He keeps overshooting and smacking himself in the face).

-I glow with pride when strangers compliment me on how cute my baby is. I strut with pride when they say I look really good for three weeks postpartum. Vanity, thy name is New Mommy.

-My apartment is a mess. I’m okay with it.

-I’m all excited that Ethan is getting chunky thighs. Chunky baby thighs are the best.

-I did an unnecessary load of laundry the other day just because I’m so excited about having a washer and dryer in our new place.

-Ethan smiled at me this morning and I cried.

I mean, I’m just assuming that the only logical conclusion to be reached is that he’s a freaking genius and that somehow I spawned brilliance while harboring only average-to-medium-high intelligence myself. Adam’s really smart, so maybe that’s how it happened.

Anyway.

I can only figure that the fact that my kid has almost total neck control and can hold himself up during Tummy Time and roll over already is the sign of genius. Right? That’s how it works, right? Please tell me “yes”. I’d love to think that my ridiculous levels of pride over these accomplishments aren’t totally unfounded. I mean, he can also smile legitimate smiles. Not that they are actually connected to the appropriate emotion yet or anything, but still. Smiles. He’s two weeks old. I think that’s pretty good.

Okay, I know my kid isn’t the first kid to ever have these skills. My niece was, quite literally, born with total neck control. I’ve known other newborns who could roll over and had great Tummy Time. But you know what? They didn’t belong to me, so I wasn’t as impressed. Sorry. That’s just how it works. When it’s your kid, it’s pretty good. When it’s my kid, he’s the next Einstein and that’s just how it goes. I hate to be That Parent, but I’m totally That Parent.

Good lord. This is what blogging while caffeinated after a long time of avoiding caffeine looks like. Be afraid.

ANYWAY.

I bring up the “ZOMG MY BEBE IS GENIUS” thing because in all honesty, I’m actually terrified at how much smarter Ethan will probably end up being than I ended up being. I consider myself reasonably intelligent. Not overly so – math is the bane of my existence and I’m not as grammartastic as I should be, as a failed English major – but enough that I can have a relatively smart conversation with someone and keep up. I read a lot, I write a lot, I’m a total film snob, and I’m involved in theatre, which totally makes me more cultured than the average bear (right?). But then I look at my husband and get freaked out, and not just because his curly hair is stunningly huge. Because his brain works in ways I will never comprehend.

Adam is freaky-smart, even if he won’t admit it or agree. He has an amazing capacity for recall. His wealth of knowledge of, well, pretty much everything is kind of insane. And I’m really not husbybragging when I say that. He has this Rain Man-like ability to retain information (it’s why he can quickly memorize lines like a champ). I really do think that he has a photographic memory to a point. And if Ethan is going to take after one of us in the brain department, I hope that it’s Adam.

But then I worry that he will take after Adam and I just won’t be able to keep up. And then I won’t be able to reason with him. And then he’ll outsmart me constantly and I’ll just be useless at motherhood by the time he’s about six. I have no idea if this is a normal thing to worry about, but it’s the sort of thing that crosses my mind when I hold my cute little baby and realize that, oh my God, I made a person who will grow up and think thoughts and have opinions and contribute to the world as a whole.

So much responsibility.

Terrifying.

Time for wine.

You can tell I'm brilliant because I can already channel Rodin.

I mentioned yesterday that staying in a hospital for a few days has done a lot to teach me to ask for and accept help. I’ve never been great about doing that. I almost never seem to have a problem asking for something little. But heaven forbid I ask for help when I actually need it. I think, for some reason, I always felt like I must surely be burdening people if I asked them to help me when I was legitimately unable to help myself. This summer, I must have turned down a dozen offers of rides home from people, even though I was limping, on crutches, in pain, in a walking boot, in Arkansas, in the summer. Duh, Caroline, freaking accept the ride. I eventually got better about it, but would only ask for/take rides from folks I knew were headed in the same direction as me (until finally my friend Ben said he’d sprain my other knee if I didn’t let him drive me around).

In the hospital, I was physically unable to do much immediately following my C-section. I needed help doing everything from getting out of bed to putting on pants. I’m glad I’m not an overly modest person (thank you, lifetime of crowded dressing rooms!), because when your mother has to help you put on underwear, there’s just no room for pride or embarrassment. After the first post-op day, I was a little more mobile, but I still didn’t trust myself to do much without someone helping me. I was just too afraid of hurting myself and extending my stay/being unable to care for Ethan.

When you have nurses available at the touch of a button, and when you know it’s their job to provide assistance, it’s easier to admit you need help. I took advantage of the call button my first couple of nights and was not afraid to request snacks, pain medication, or help walking to and from the bathroom. The nurses were incredibly sweet and patient – they were the types of people you always hope will be taking care of you when you’re sick. I thought I would feel like a failure for requesting help with something as simple as sitting up in bed. It was that “if you can’t sit up on your own, how will you mother a newborn baby???” mindset that I think we all get into. We think it’s all or nothing. If you have to ask for help with one simple task, you’ll fail at all the others. That’s simply not true, and I understand that now more than ever.

You must be willing to ask for help when you are a new parent, but even more, you must be willing to accept help when it is offered. Period. As I said in my entry “Princess Mommy?”, while I don’t anticipate myself asking guests to do chores around my house when they visit Ethan, I may take them up on the offer if it seems reasonable. I haven’t changed my stance on demanding/expecting certain things of guests (I still firmly believe that guests are just that – guests. And should be treated as such), but if someone is kind enough to offer help while I am recovering, I’m probably going to say yes as long as it doesn’t seem like too much. I’ve swallowed my pride a bit when it comes to my mother-in-law. I usually just take care of myself and try to make life easier on her whenever I am staying over, because I know how much she has on her hands and how tired she is. But lately, if she offers to get me something to drink or to fix a bottle for Ethan, I say yes. I had abdominal surgery, damn it, and I have a newborn. Now is not the time for me to push myself too hard and cause damage to myself (or others) in the process.

So what have we learned?

It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to accept help. It’s not okay to feel like a failure or less of a woman for doing either of those things. Motherhood is weird and cool and scary and beautiful and exhausting and one big adrenaline rush all at the same time, and you’re bound to fall behind and have confusing emotions and get worn out at least a few times. Embrace it. You’re a freaking parent. That’s pretty much all the validation you should need to feel okay with asking for someone to pour you some ice water while they’re in the kitchen.

Whew. I have been a mom for one week and I already feel like a new person.

Strike that – not a new person. Like a different version of the person I already was. And I like it. I like the fact that I am way more patient than I thought. I like the fact that I am far more willing to ask for and accept help than I ever used to be (staying in a hospital for a few days will do that to you – more on that later). And most of all, I like the fact that I feel comfortable being a mother. I haven’t yet hit the point of being overwhelmed or afraid. I’m sure it’s coming, and I’m sure that before too long there will be one of those “OH DEAR GOD HE WON’T STOP CRYING” posts on here. But I take a little pride in the fact that though I have been dealing with some frustrating things, I have been able to keep my head for the most part.

So. Ethan’s first week.

It began in the hospital, of course, with the C-section. We stayed there until Sunday, and I was so pleased with the care we received. Every single nurse and doctor we encountered was kind and willing to take the time to make sure all of our questions and concerns were addressed. After hearing some less-than-glowing stories of hospital births, I was thrilled to have such a positive experience. When we were discharged, we went to stay with Adam’s parents until our new apartment is ready (this is because their house is set up in such a way that I would be able to access everything I need without having to climb any stairs). While Adam has had to go back and forth to work and pack/move, I’ve been fortunate to have the help of my mother-in-law in taking care of Ethan. I’m doing most of it by myself, but knowing that I could ask her to watch him for a bit so I can grab a shower has been a huge help. Adam has been spending as much time here as possible, and I just melt watching him interact with Ethan. He’s such a great dad already!

Ethan had his first checkup and passed with flying colors! He is already back to his newborn weight after losing about 7 oz. in the hospital…doesn’t surprise me. He’s already up to about 3 oz. of formula per feeding. And he has a LOT of feedings. He’s going to be a chunkster before too long!

The room was so cold! Luckily, he was bundled back up in a jiffy.

As far as my own healing goes, I’m recovering fairly well from the C-section in general. I’m terribly sore where the incision is, and bending to change Ethan’s diapers puts a ton of pressure on the spot. I’m still walking very gingerly and having a little trouble getting up and down from a sitting or prone position, but overall, my energy is pretty good and I otherwise feel just fine. I had to go to the doctor yesterday to have my PUPPS rash looked at – it appeared to be returning, which was the absolute last thing I wanted to have to deal with at this point in time. As it turns out, though, I am most likely having an allergic reaction to the painkillers I was prescribed. This is pretty distressing, since obviously I am recovering from surgery and am in a lot of pain. I can’t take Motrin because I have an aspirin allergy, and though I could take Ibuprofen without an allergic reaction, it is about as effective as popping some M&Ms. And I’d rather just eat the chocolate in that case. So now I am just toughing it out as much as I can, applying ice, and trying to rest as much as possible. Benadryl seems to be helping the allergies, so hopefully that will be resolved quickly!

We’ve settled into a pretty good routine. I’m very tired from all the late-night stuff, but Ethan is still a pretty relaxed baby. He had one major meltdown the other night, but after a while we figured out how to soothe him and all was well. My mom came over and had about four hours of uninterrupted baby time, which allowed me to take a Benadryl-induced nap. It made all the difference! So anyone out there wondering what a new mom needs the most…I’m willing to wager it’s sleep, more than anything else.

At this moment, Ethan is in his bassinet, cooing and enjoying his pacifier while slowly escaping his swaddling (I’m really, really bad at swaddling. All thumbs. I blame the carpal tunnel). I’m sitting nearby, and every so often, I see one of his little hands stretch up towards the ceiling. I can’t help but marvel at him – somehow, I incubated something that ridiculously cute. I may complain about the rashes and carpal tunnel and post-op pain, but I’m not even waxing sentimental when I say that not only is Ethan more than worth it, I hardly feel any of it when I’m holding him. That’s just nature’s way of being merciful, I guess. I’ll take it.

I still have trouble believing it. It really happened. I really had a baby and really became a mother. I’m not pregnant anymore. He’s not in my belly. He’s in my arms, cooing and showing off his ridiculously cute dimples. My baby is here!

The C-section went about as well as one could ever hope for. In fact, it was far easier and I am recovering way faster than I anticipated. For those who want details about the birth story, there will be more after the cut. For those who prefer not to know details about the inner workings of my cervix, here’s the abbreviated version:

We checked in at 12:30 and immediately got underway with the preparation for the C-section. The staff could not have been nicer or more helpful, so despite my nerves, I felt good going into everything. I was very zen about the whole thing until we actually got to the OR, where I started shaking like a leaf. Once whatever they gave me to help relax kicked in and the spinal got underway, I felt a lot better, but I was still so anxious about it all. The spinal is a strange experience – I was aware of pressure, tugging, pulling, etc., but absolutely no pain. I could feel certain things happening to my body but was unable to move my lower half at all. Normally that would freak me out – not a fan of being numb – but having Adam next to me really helped.

Ethan was born on March 8th at 2:48 PM, weighing 6 lbs. 14 oz. For some reason, I don’t know how long he was at birth – I’m going to try to get that info ASAP just for my own knowledge. When I heard him cry, I immediately broke out into a huge grin. I don’t think I have stopped smiling since then!

I’m recovering well. The incision is painful, but not nearly as bad as I was expecting. My PUPPS rash is finally beginning to let up a little, too, thanks to the birth and a prescription of steroids. In a few weeks, I should be almost back to normal. Adam was an absolute champ throughout the whole process, remaining nice and calm despite being admittedly nervous in the OR and taking to fatherhood with incredible ease.

Most importantly of all, Ethan is an amazing little boy. He is truly beautiful – and I know that I might sound biased, but I have photographic evidence. My kid is adorable. He has the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen on a baby and cheeks that I just cannot stop kissing. Oh, and best of all? He has a dimple in his cheek that you could eat cereal out of. We’re all in love with this sweet little guy.

I’m going to be discharged tomorrow. I’ll be staying with Adam’s parents until our moving day on March 15th to the new apartment (in order to avoid having to climb stairs while my stitches heal), and then it is onwards and upwards to a brand-new life as a parent!

Read a more detailed account of the birth by clicking here: Continue reading →