And so it begins

There's a new kid in town and I am his proud momma!

To preface this post, it seems to me that everything on the subject of motherhood and children has been said, written, and sung about, and it's taken me this long to even desire writing about diaper changes, spit ups and nighttime feedings. But since my child is uniquely mine and my experience mine alone (and my blog for whatever I want!), I'm sharing my 5 weeks worth of motherhood.

Nothing will prepare you to be a parent: not a certain number of books, not all the parenting classes available, not interviews with all the moms in your town. As my previous posts will suggest, I felt confident and knowledgeable; I knew there would be some bumps in the road but I was ready for them.

Yikes.

Ethan has been an incredibly good baby, therefore I have no horror stories of him screaming through the night (yet) or tales of the non-latching baby. So even with him being a great baby, the past five weeks have been crazy tough. We got off to a rough start at the hospital and spent a grand total of five days there rather than two. My birth plan went right out the window as soon as my water broke and I realized holy crap this hurts like no other (God bless epidurals) and went even further out the window when the doctors came in and said - out of the blue - hey we're going to do a c-section in about...2 minutes. Thankfully I didn't have to get one but I DID get the pleasure of meeting a metal friend called forceps (again, thank God for epidurals). The doctors called Ethan's birth a distressed one, and therefore everything took him a couple extra days to regulate than most babies. Needless to say, Phil and I had many slow walking trips down to the NICU to visit (and attempt to feed) our boy.

We finally came home and discovered that we had no idea what we were doing and why in the world did the hospital send a TINY PERSON home with us?? Every little cough, burp, diaper, red spot, and facial expression warranted a call to the hospital (well, it would have had Phil not talked me out of it) and every question I posed to Phil - "Is he supposed to ___?" - was answered with raised eyebrows and a shrug of the shoulders - "I don't know!"

Then you read that newborns eat a lot and so get prepared to be up in the night with them. Oh and ask your partner to participate so that you're not doing it alone. Do you know how TIRED you get at 11, 1, 3, 5, and 7am?? And that the two hour feedings go from the time you start to the next time you start with feedings taking up to an hour...so really you get an hour "sleep" between feedings. And you wake up your partner for support only to realize there's nothing he can do and you're getting mad at him because he's nodding off as this small mouth is attempting to extract liquid that isn't there from a raw cracked nipple while you're thinking things like, "My life is over."

This is all sounding dramatic though and really, it was two weeks of this...two weeks out of my whole life. Every parent goes through this and like I said, mine was easy compared to some people's experiences so I'm not going down that road of trying to make my story sound like the most pathetic. It wasn't too bad, I always had people there, he was/is super cute and he slept a lot.

The other things that books, classes and conversations don't prepare you for is the emotion you feel for this bitty boy immediately. I know some parents it takes a while for them to feel that love and they're not sure how they feel about their baby...not me. As soon as I saw that wrinkled up face pulled out from me and heard his loud squawking I knew I couldn't love anything else exactly like I loved him. And it's just gotten better as he's grown.

He makes this pouty face when he's so tired from crying and he juts out his bottom lip as every line in his face scrunches up...only to let out this sad half cry...breaks my heart and makes me laugh all at the same time. Or when he's feeding (yes, we finally got that down after two weeks) and he's looking at me sideways with his little mouth moving up and down as milk dribbles into his BAZILLION neck folds. Or his big eyes, wrinkly forehead and cheerio-shaped mouth as he stares up into the light, holding his big head with his strengthening neck muscles. I can't even invent adjectives and verbs to describe how these things make my heart feel...and you can't either until you have one - simply amazing.

The first month went by so fast and he's grown so much (11lbs already after weighing in at 8, 3!) and I love his personality that's starting to show. He loves to cuddle, he hates sitting in a wet diaper, he's alert after bath time, and he needs his hands up by his face when he sleeps. I'm still waiting for him to smile or giggle - soon I hope! - and we're working on tummy time and head support...he's getting there. And he doesn't look like a sea monkey - he really is cute! I don't think people are lying to me when they tell me that (or else there are a lot of liars out there). He's a good blend of Dad and Mom but right now he's got a teensy bit more Mom than Dad.

He's met a lot of the family so far, and I'm so blessed that Phil was able to get home before the birth and be there for everything. He was an awesome support and I couldn't have done it without him. He's coming home soon (September!) and I'm so anxious for him to get back on our journey together. I'm glad I have Ethan here to keep me busy because I think I would be a lot sadder after R&R...but again, 7 more weeks (ish) so we're almost done. Phil is an adorable Daddy and I can't wait to see him with his boy as Ethan grows and can do more things. It was a joy to see how sappy Phil was with him and how comfortable he was holding him...I was nervous he'd be all thumbs and always be passing E off to me. I was in the kitchen that first week home from the hospital and Phil was changing him in the other room. I heard uncontrollable laughter and went in to find a straight line of poop across the entire changing table and pee whizzing through the air...Ethan as calm as can be and his Daddy laughing. I knew then that Phil was a good dad.

To repeat my thesis....nothing prepares you. And yet it's the greatest joy I've known and the most rewarding thing to go to sleep each night knowing I survived another day, my baby is still alive and dry, and even in the exhaustion, I'm happy.