Well, we made it to Week 8 before our Sweet Potato caught her first cold. It's inevitable, I know, but you can't help feeling super guilty that you couldn't keep her in a bubble with temperature controlled sterile air. :( Luckily she hasn't had a fever and the coughing/sneezing has been minimal. Aside from glassy, weepy eyes and a bit more congestion than usual, her appetite is much the same and she's smiling and cooing when she's not sleeping (which is admittedly more frequent as she fights the infection.) Oscar the owl, the baby humidifier, has come through for us and with a dash of peppermint oil, he's created a soothing sick room. A little extra cuddling and unlimited kisses also seems to help. I read that most babies catch 7 colds in their first year so let's hope this is as bad as it gets...
In other news, we're all looking forward to the myriad of festive occasions as we introduce Tempest to family and friends. This means we needed some new seasonal wardrobe items for all three humans in the family.
Men have it easy. Babies, too. Nursing mothers? HA! Hahahaha clothes in my closet are useless right now. Useless! Unless it's jeans/leggings or a giant tunic, it doesn't pull/zip over my boobs. I got remeasured because I couldn't understand why I kept popping out of two of my larger nursing bras and let's just say I've crossed over into Playboy territory. I didn't even know they made bras in this size and I certainly didn't know that I'd be wearing something that resembles an early Victorian medical harness to keep me decent. I was always the girl with the unremarkable, appropriately sized, small-to-medium bust. Where did these grand tetons come from?! I'm now on the hunt for anything that comes in stretchy fabric with the perfect modest v-neckline. Can't do turtle necks, crew necks, or boat necks without looking like I might just topple over. Falalalala.
So there you have it: in between snot sucking with the NoseFrida and wiping the boogers out of Sweet T's eyes, I'm doing lots and lots of online browsing because nothing would suck more than subjecting myself to an actual fitting room. :shudder: The next hunt is for a winter cape unless I want to be walking around with unbuttoned coast all winter.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Saturday, November 1, 2014
6 Week Check-Up
Somehow, inexplicably, it is November 1. When did that happen? I feel like we just brought our Sweet Potato home from the hospital last week. It has been 6 full weeks today that we've been living as a family of four. I'd say we're pretty well adjusted at this point but every day brings some new discovery or new tweak to the "routine" - a term I use loosely - that it is futile trying to be rigid in our schedule. I'd say we have a general outline of behavior and activity and as long as everyone is sleeping a bit and eating enough, we're good to go. Bring on the holidays!
Wednesday was my postpartum appointment so I drove the 45 minutes in rush hour to get my clean bill of health. It was nice to see Tempest's announcement up on the (very crowded) wall of babies.
Wednesday was my postpartum appointment so I drove the 45 minutes in rush hour to get my clean bill of health. It was nice to see Tempest's announcement up on the (very crowded) wall of babies.
Can you spot it? Hint: upper left hand side.
Seeing Dr. Garfinkel again was a nice full-circle medical experience, even if I miss Dr. Convery after seeing her pretty much weekly up to the end of pregnancy. I showed him a picture of Tess in her skeleton costume and he laughed. Then we talked through my options for keeping the endometriosis at bay and he decided that for me, the lowest dose combination pill will be most effective. Usually, women in my situation who aren't actively trying to get pregnant in the next 6 months will take a progesterone only pill if they are breastfeeding but he gave me Lo Loestrin instead which is a relatively new BC pill with only 10 mg of estrogen. The addition of the low level of estrogen will not affect my milk supply but it will be more effective, in his opinion, for preventing the regrowth of cysts or adhesions. I asked Dr. Garfinkel what my innards looked like since he saw inside my pelvis most recently and he didn't seem terribly concerned that there had been any significant regrowth from my IVF cycle. Yes, my ovaries are pinned behind my uterus and attached to my bowel but we knew that. I have two sample packs of the pill that I will try for the next two months and see how things go. Did I mention I won't get a period until I "want to have one?" That's kind of amazing. Fingers crossed!
I don't go back to see the gyno (weird to say "gyno" and not "OB" now) for 3-4 months and then after that, just for my yearly pap. It will be strange not driving up to Morristown all the time. What will I do with myself? This shift is as profound as they say: once the mother is declared fit and life for her resumes as normal, it's all about the baby. You, the vessel, have healed and the primary concern becomes the little life you brought into the world. I honestly count my blessings that I was more or less back to myself a week after giving birth. Thank you, universe, for that bit of good fortune. In the words of the good doctor, "You're back! You can now do whatever you want to do." (That's code for green lighting marital relations among other recreational activities.) Good stuff.
In other events this week, Tess wore all four of her Halloween outfits beautifully. She was a rock star during the seemingly endless photoshoots I subjected her and Oscar to - he was pretty amazing, as well - and now we can annoy the hell out of friends and family by posting one million photos of our gorgeous children on facebook.
Happy First Halloween!
Yes, the very thing I swore I'd never do, I'm doing. I've converted to mombook, minus the incessant status updates that no one wants to read anyway, and I can't really say I'm sorry. Like it or not, facebook is the chief mode of photo sharing in my social circle and it's certainly how my extended family stays in touch, as no one seems to pick up the phone anymore other than to text photos to each other. A sign of the times or laziness? Doesn't much matter but I've had to swallow my lofty ideals about not having a digital footprint for my infant daughter if I want anyone to feel like they are a part of her life and get to know her across the great chasm that is the state of Pennsylvania. (Don't get me started on that.)
With her first major holiday behind us, we have two biggies coming up and as well as two group family introductions that will serve as debut parties for Miss Tempest. In short, after a month-and-a-half of hibernation, we get to dress her up and show her off. The child has no shortage of clothes or smiles, that's for sure. Once she physically meets people, I think the online stuff will start to feel less bizarre and disconnected for me. The bottom line is, Tess is a real live member of two families now, even if we don't see each other all that often. I want her to form relationships that will grow into a tangible network of love and support to last a lifetime. She'll be melting adult hearts and cooing to her older cousins in no time.
Monday, October 27, 2014
One Year Later
I'm coming up on a significant anniversary this week. One year ago, I began my pre-student teaching at my alma mater, Hillsborough High School.
I had finally begun the core degree courses at Drexel then had to jump through 100 hoops to secure the placement at HHS -- but don't get me started on the field placement office or those charming individuals who work at the boro Board Office. It had been an incredibly stressful lead up but everything worked out in the end and I got to teach with my own former English teacher. I had him for 10th grade Honors but now he had inherited 12th grade AP Lit from my dear mentor. Four classes of overachieving 17 and 18-year-olds later, and we were reading Hamlet together. I only had five days in their classroom but they graciously accepted my presence there and didn't challenge my authority, even when I openly mocked the Kenneth Branagh film version (I think they agreed.)
It was a glorious week for professional and biological triumphs. The morning before Halloween I received the gift I'd been waiting for all month: my period! That meant we could finally, finally start start our third and ultimately successful IVF cycle. As I put on my spandex leggings and white puffy shirt (I was dressing as Hamlet) I wasn't thinking of anything but get to RMA first thing and wait for Nurse Anne to call back later with instructions. Halloween in a high school is a waste of a teaching day, anyway, with all of the shenanigans and mainlining sugar with subsequent crashing.
I remember driving to my lining check alone, full of excitement, ignoring sideways glances in the waiting room as I was dressed like a glam rock pirate, and just willing everything to look good enough to get the green light. This time, I'd be using a new protocol -- a more complicated, invasive one -- but one I had pinned every last hope to. Dr. Shastri loved my costume and delivered the good news that I'd be hearing from my nurse about my dosage that night. wohoo! Then I sped off into the darkness to grab a celebratory Starbucks breakfast, as it was 6:15 AM and I didn't have to be at school for another hour.
Hard to believe that was a full year ago. It seems, on some days, like it just happened and then on others, when I read back through this blog or look at the living proof of this saga napping so peacefully beside me, it seems worlds away. It's almost like it happened to someone else and I suppose in that sense, I am a different person than I was a year ago.
I had finally begun the core degree courses at Drexel then had to jump through 100 hoops to secure the placement at HHS -- but don't get me started on the field placement office or those charming individuals who work at the boro Board Office. It had been an incredibly stressful lead up but everything worked out in the end and I got to teach with my own former English teacher. I had him for 10th grade Honors but now he had inherited 12th grade AP Lit from my dear mentor. Four classes of overachieving 17 and 18-year-olds later, and we were reading Hamlet together. I only had five days in their classroom but they graciously accepted my presence there and didn't challenge my authority, even when I openly mocked the Kenneth Branagh film version (I think they agreed.)
It was a glorious week for professional and biological triumphs. The morning before Halloween I received the gift I'd been waiting for all month: my period! That meant we could finally, finally start start our third and ultimately successful IVF cycle. As I put on my spandex leggings and white puffy shirt (I was dressing as Hamlet) I wasn't thinking of anything but get to RMA first thing and wait for Nurse Anne to call back later with instructions. Halloween in a high school is a waste of a teaching day, anyway, with all of the shenanigans and mainlining sugar with subsequent crashing.
I remember driving to my lining check alone, full of excitement, ignoring sideways glances in the waiting room as I was dressed like a glam rock pirate, and just willing everything to look good enough to get the green light. This time, I'd be using a new protocol -- a more complicated, invasive one -- but one I had pinned every last hope to. Dr. Shastri loved my costume and delivered the good news that I'd be hearing from my nurse about my dosage that night. wohoo! Then I sped off into the darkness to grab a celebratory Starbucks breakfast, as it was 6:15 AM and I didn't have to be at school for another hour.
Hard to believe that was a full year ago. It seems, on some days, like it just happened and then on others, when I read back through this blog or look at the living proof of this saga napping so peacefully beside me, it seems worlds away. It's almost like it happened to someone else and I suppose in that sense, I am a different person than I was a year ago.
After the Storm
Remember that last post about how apt our naming was? True story. Just as in the play for which she's named, after the storm comes new life and new love.
Our sweet little Tess has just about finished up an epic growth spurt of clingy, roaring, vomitous fun. 5-6 weeks old? GOOD TIMES. She's stronger than I ever thought possible for someone so small and there's a new spark in her bright grey eyes that says, "Heck yes, I'm growing. Look out, brave new world!" Makes it all worthwhile to see her smile at me of her own volition - this is no reflex - and mimic my facial expressions with great enthusiasm. She sucks her thumb now, grabs onto my shirt/hair/breasts with incredible force, and even makes cooing noises to the owl we have hanging on the side of her crib. In short, a new little personality is emerging after doing battle with some epic reflux, gas pains, and general separation anxiety. She still loves to be cuddled and kept close and yes, we do still have days where there are three outfit changes apiece for us -- even Oscar wasn't spared the splash zone -- but now that we have this night shift thing more or less down, it's getting easier.
Believe me: some nights I really did think I was about to be shipped off to Bellevue because she just would not, could not calm down. No amount of cuddling, soothing or freaking milk would soothe her. ("I'm a mother, not a magician, Jim. I canna do it, Captain!!!") But somehow, we made it through, as new parents eventually do. Wee Tess is still the absolute loudest infant I have ever heard. She's Broadway bound with those pipes! I don't know where she gets her belt voice. Neither I nor her father were particularly vocal babies. I see these flashes of what life with a mouthy three year old will be like and I laugh because oh baby, paybacks...I didn't really speak until I was that old.
Our sweet little Tess has just about finished up an epic growth spurt of clingy, roaring, vomitous fun. 5-6 weeks old? GOOD TIMES. She's stronger than I ever thought possible for someone so small and there's a new spark in her bright grey eyes that says, "Heck yes, I'm growing. Look out, brave new world!" Makes it all worthwhile to see her smile at me of her own volition - this is no reflex - and mimic my facial expressions with great enthusiasm. She sucks her thumb now, grabs onto my shirt/hair/breasts with incredible force, and even makes cooing noises to the owl we have hanging on the side of her crib. In short, a new little personality is emerging after doing battle with some epic reflux, gas pains, and general separation anxiety. She still loves to be cuddled and kept close and yes, we do still have days where there are three outfit changes apiece for us -- even Oscar wasn't spared the splash zone -- but now that we have this night shift thing more or less down, it's getting easier.
Believe me: some nights I really did think I was about to be shipped off to Bellevue because she just would not, could not calm down. No amount of cuddling, soothing or freaking milk would soothe her. ("I'm a mother, not a magician, Jim. I canna do it, Captain!!!") But somehow, we made it through, as new parents eventually do. Wee Tess is still the absolute loudest infant I have ever heard. She's Broadway bound with those pipes! I don't know where she gets her belt voice. Neither I nor her father were particularly vocal babies. I see these flashes of what life with a mouthy three year old will be like and I laugh because oh baby, paybacks...I didn't really speak until I was that old.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
What's in a Name?
On her Five Week Birthday, one thing has become clear: we named her well. Tempest.
A violent storm, tumult, uproar.
That she is, or can be, even though our sweet, bright-eyed Tess makes frequent appearances. With a set of lungs typically not seen on a 36 week-er, she defied all conventions right from the start. She has absolutely no problem vocalizing, that’s for sure. When she wants something, it’s Tempest in a Teapot mode. It makes me smile because her cry is hearty and clear. There is no wailing, no screeching or whimpering. It’s a full-on HEY YOU GUYS I’M HUNGRY/POOPING/IN NEED OF CUDDLING and she does not desist until her needs are fulfilled.
Conceiving her – and carrying her for nine months – was my personal tempest. But she is here now, safe and sound. When she’s out in public for a medical appointment, I love hearing peoples’ reactions when I tell them her name. Usually there’s a pause and a smile followed by, “I love it,” “so beautiful,” or “how unique,” “I’ve never heard that before – what is it again?” To be well named is a blessing. So is her middle name. Felicity.
Great happiness. Pleasing or well chosen.
She is our pride and joy. (Sorry Oscar, you are pretty great but we picked you out of a line-up of pups. You were well chosen, as it happens, but you did not issue from my loins.) I have always loved the name since my days of playing with my American Girl Doll, the fire-kissed patriot, Felicity Merriman. While our daughter is decidedly not named after a doll, I smile to think that she will one day inherit this discontinued --excuse me - retired -- treasured bit of my girlhood. She will be able to play with Felicity just as I did and recognize that same spirit of independence in herself.
Our happiness after the storm, a “stormy blessing,” for that is how we choose to translate her name, is the perfect distillation of her mother’s favorite play and her father’s profession. She came in like a roll of thunder and continues to keep us on our toes. Her actual birthday, now a month behind us, was a tempestuous September day and I will always remember the flinty, swirling gray of the clouds above 287 as we sped toward Morristown and probable delivery. The leaves were just beginning to turn, despite the 80 degree temps, and the feeling of something portentous hung in the humid air.
Her name captures the drama of creation and birth. It is strong, it is melodic, it has meaning, but most of all, it suits her.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
One Month
Our happy, storm-born baby girl is one month old today.
:record scratch:
Say, what?!
It is incredibly hard to process that Tempest Felicity is 4 weeks - one whole month! - old and yet, that's the truth. What everyone says is also true: those first weeks fly by, even when it feels like the darkest hours before the dawn stretch on into infinity when she won't sleep and won't settle for any amount of time. But then, the sun rises and a new day begins. We've made it without any major incidents and have grown immeasurably closer as a family unit. As of this week, we've managed to get into a nighttime routine that means all of us are sleeping from roughly 10:00 PM - 2:00 AM which is a major accomplishment. Tess is breastfeeding on demand which means as often as every hour or whenever she isn't napping. This is a huge leap for her and though it is an adjustment to measure out the day in feedings, it is sobering to know that I am solely responsible for nourishing her and that she is thriving and doing it in synch with my body. Realizations don't get more humbling or more amazing than that.
I have been remiss in writing my daily observations over the past four weeks and I'll hardly be able to make up for it now, though I will provide some highlights of the things we've learned about our daughter that make us laugh/smile/tear up. I still owe her that letter I meant to write before her birth and I will get to it. One of these days.
Observations (in no particular order)
1. Even the most willowy, rosy infant, she of delicate feature and sweet disposition, can, in fact, sound like Tyrannosaurus Tess when she's ravenous. We call her Tessadactyl, Raptor Baby, Dino Girl, Rabid Rooter, etc. The sounds that come out of this child's mouth when she's desperate for anything nearby that resembles a boob are the funniest things I've ever heard from an infant. Sometimes she grunts, sometimes she growls, sometimes she bellows - yes, tiny T bellows like an old man - and then magically, once the nipple grazes her lips, she's as content as can be and will suck that teat dry.
2. Che bella! Those eyes! Slate grey and almond-shaped, they melt me every time I gaze at her cherubic face. It's like flying too close to the sun. She's positively magnetic and though I know probably every mother says this/feels this (even if - sorry - it ain't so) this child is mesmerizing. There's nothing static about her. She's in constant motion, whether it's climbing my shoulder, grabbing Oscar's nose, looking around the room, conducting an invisible symphony with her spindly arms, or kicking like a mermaid on her floor mat during tummy time, Tess is our dynamic daughter. Each day brings new discoveries and new possibilities. Whoever said all babies do is eat, sleep, and poop? Well, they're wrong. There is an incredible range of activity and nuance and no two days are the same.
3. Yes, exhaustion is inevitable and it does seem to get worse before it gets better but then...it gets better. All it takes is one good night trying one thing a little differently (thanks, Mom - no, seriously -- you were right) and then a switch is thrown: Eureka! Everything looks a little brighter and much more manageable with a solid 4 hours of sleep.
4. Each week will bring subtle and monumental leaps. Those first few days, it feels inconceivable that she will ever be bigger than the squirmy peanut you can comfortably hold in the crook of your arm but then she eats, and eats, and eats and grows accordingly. Though she lost nearly a pound in the first five days after birth, she now weighs well over 8 lbs (though the official weigh-in will come on Friday) and her cheeks are soft and full. The sharper preterm features are rounding out. She is finally developing thigh rolls and her fingers are plumping nicely. In short, she now looks like a healthy full-term baby. Her caterpillar-to-butterfly transformation is remarkable. Even her fontanelle has receded as her head circumference has grown and her tiny eyebrows are gaining color and definition, as are her lushes lashes. She's even got a downy mullet thing going on as her hair continues to grow in the back, if not the front. The micro-changes are noticeable to me, the person who spends the most time looking at her precious face, as well as to her grandparents who see her once or twice a week. It's reassuring to know she's picking up speed on the growth track and not looking back but it's a bit bittersweet. I had to pack away her 5-8 lb Gerber onesies today. They are too short and getting tight across her belly. I found myself getting misty-eyed. Soon, her footed sleepers are going to be too small and I will pack them away for posterity, along with her hospital kimonos and going-home outfit. She's growing up before our very eyes.
5. Oscar is the best big brother ever. The. Best. We got off to a slow start with him giving us an extremely wide berth when he arrived home from camp the day after we left the hospital. This was not the reaction either of us expected but the more we read about pet behavior and newborns, we realized this was his show of respect and concession of his former place in the family hierarchy. He refused to acknowledge Tess the first two days and barely made eye contact with us. He had to mourn his previous baby of the family status and make room in his heart to accept a new sibling. As for me, he gave me a few licks of greeting, rolled around on the floor, and then practically hid from me! I think the hormones were too much for him, plus he probably remembered the antiseptic smell of hospital from last summer. Then, slowly, as we normalized behavior with the baby by including him in cuddle time and feedings, he came around. He started sniffing her feet, then her diaper, then began licking her head and checking on her. Now, the two of them are inseparable. If I put Tess in her crib to use the bathroom or take a shower and she makes the slightest peep, Oscar is the first to let me know. He comes trotting in, door-be-damned, and looks at me like, "um, hello? are you going to do something about that noise or should I?" He protects her. He lies next to the crib, watching, until I get dressed. If she's in the bassinet, he stretches out directly beneath as if he's going to rock her to sleep.
There is so much more to write - so many musings both Rhett and I have noted during those golden weeks of paternity leave and nesting - but there's too much to put to paper. It happens so quickly and there's no catching up. Thoughts wash over us and then just like that, something new happens and they're gone. I do know that being a SAHM (stay at home mom) to a sweet potato and a fluffy muffin means my day is much fuller than I ever anticipated. It's nice to settle into a groove now that it's the three of us during the day and when papa comes home at night, the family squeezes onto the little red couch (with Oscar still taking up approximately 1/3, as usual) and all is right with the world.
:record scratch:
Say, what?!
It is incredibly hard to process that Tempest Felicity is 4 weeks - one whole month! - old and yet, that's the truth. What everyone says is also true: those first weeks fly by, even when it feels like the darkest hours before the dawn stretch on into infinity when she won't sleep and won't settle for any amount of time. But then, the sun rises and a new day begins. We've made it without any major incidents and have grown immeasurably closer as a family unit. As of this week, we've managed to get into a nighttime routine that means all of us are sleeping from roughly 10:00 PM - 2:00 AM which is a major accomplishment. Tess is breastfeeding on demand which means as often as every hour or whenever she isn't napping. This is a huge leap for her and though it is an adjustment to measure out the day in feedings, it is sobering to know that I am solely responsible for nourishing her and that she is thriving and doing it in synch with my body. Realizations don't get more humbling or more amazing than that.
I have been remiss in writing my daily observations over the past four weeks and I'll hardly be able to make up for it now, though I will provide some highlights of the things we've learned about our daughter that make us laugh/smile/tear up. I still owe her that letter I meant to write before her birth and I will get to it. One of these days.
Observations (in no particular order)
1. Even the most willowy, rosy infant, she of delicate feature and sweet disposition, can, in fact, sound like Tyrannosaurus Tess when she's ravenous. We call her Tessadactyl, Raptor Baby, Dino Girl, Rabid Rooter, etc. The sounds that come out of this child's mouth when she's desperate for anything nearby that resembles a boob are the funniest things I've ever heard from an infant. Sometimes she grunts, sometimes she growls, sometimes she bellows - yes, tiny T bellows like an old man - and then magically, once the nipple grazes her lips, she's as content as can be and will suck that teat dry.
2. Che bella! Those eyes! Slate grey and almond-shaped, they melt me every time I gaze at her cherubic face. It's like flying too close to the sun. She's positively magnetic and though I know probably every mother says this/feels this (even if - sorry - it ain't so) this child is mesmerizing. There's nothing static about her. She's in constant motion, whether it's climbing my shoulder, grabbing Oscar's nose, looking around the room, conducting an invisible symphony with her spindly arms, or kicking like a mermaid on her floor mat during tummy time, Tess is our dynamic daughter. Each day brings new discoveries and new possibilities. Whoever said all babies do is eat, sleep, and poop? Well, they're wrong. There is an incredible range of activity and nuance and no two days are the same.
3. Yes, exhaustion is inevitable and it does seem to get worse before it gets better but then...it gets better. All it takes is one good night trying one thing a little differently (thanks, Mom - no, seriously -- you were right) and then a switch is thrown: Eureka! Everything looks a little brighter and much more manageable with a solid 4 hours of sleep.
4. Each week will bring subtle and monumental leaps. Those first few days, it feels inconceivable that she will ever be bigger than the squirmy peanut you can comfortably hold in the crook of your arm but then she eats, and eats, and eats and grows accordingly. Though she lost nearly a pound in the first five days after birth, she now weighs well over 8 lbs (though the official weigh-in will come on Friday) and her cheeks are soft and full. The sharper preterm features are rounding out. She is finally developing thigh rolls and her fingers are plumping nicely. In short, she now looks like a healthy full-term baby. Her caterpillar-to-butterfly transformation is remarkable. Even her fontanelle has receded as her head circumference has grown and her tiny eyebrows are gaining color and definition, as are her lushes lashes. She's even got a downy mullet thing going on as her hair continues to grow in the back, if not the front. The micro-changes are noticeable to me, the person who spends the most time looking at her precious face, as well as to her grandparents who see her once or twice a week. It's reassuring to know she's picking up speed on the growth track and not looking back but it's a bit bittersweet. I had to pack away her 5-8 lb Gerber onesies today. They are too short and getting tight across her belly. I found myself getting misty-eyed. Soon, her footed sleepers are going to be too small and I will pack them away for posterity, along with her hospital kimonos and going-home outfit. She's growing up before our very eyes.
5. Oscar is the best big brother ever. The. Best. We got off to a slow start with him giving us an extremely wide berth when he arrived home from camp the day after we left the hospital. This was not the reaction either of us expected but the more we read about pet behavior and newborns, we realized this was his show of respect and concession of his former place in the family hierarchy. He refused to acknowledge Tess the first two days and barely made eye contact with us. He had to mourn his previous baby of the family status and make room in his heart to accept a new sibling. As for me, he gave me a few licks of greeting, rolled around on the floor, and then practically hid from me! I think the hormones were too much for him, plus he probably remembered the antiseptic smell of hospital from last summer. Then, slowly, as we normalized behavior with the baby by including him in cuddle time and feedings, he came around. He started sniffing her feet, then her diaper, then began licking her head and checking on her. Now, the two of them are inseparable. If I put Tess in her crib to use the bathroom or take a shower and she makes the slightest peep, Oscar is the first to let me know. He comes trotting in, door-be-damned, and looks at me like, "um, hello? are you going to do something about that noise or should I?" He protects her. He lies next to the crib, watching, until I get dressed. If she's in the bassinet, he stretches out directly beneath as if he's going to rock her to sleep.
There is so much more to write - so many musings both Rhett and I have noted during those golden weeks of paternity leave and nesting - but there's too much to put to paper. It happens so quickly and there's no catching up. Thoughts wash over us and then just like that, something new happens and they're gone. I do know that being a SAHM (stay at home mom) to a sweet potato and a fluffy muffin means my day is much fuller than I ever anticipated. It's nice to settle into a groove now that it's the three of us during the day and when papa comes home at night, the family squeezes onto the little red couch (with Oscar still taking up approximately 1/3, as usual) and all is right with the world.
Monday, October 13, 2014
They say it's your due date
Happy due date to you, my almost-one-month-old! I can't believe tomorrow night, at 9:27 pm, you will have been in this world for 4 weeks.
So much for due dates...
I am convinced that IVF babies come early, complications excluded, because they have a head start on other embryos. Think about it: they are fertilized under controlled conditions and are 6-day-old blastocysts by the time they implant, almost immediately, in the uterus. There's no lollygagging. No margin for error. They need to get down to business right away if they're going to make it in this world and for that reason, I truly believe Tempest was one step ahead and oh-so-ready to meet us, regardless of her projected arrival. And yes, there's the preeclampsia to thank for the speed at which the decision was made to deliver her but I do think, had I enjoyed a totally uncomplicated pregnancy, that she would have made her entrance before October anyway. My sapphire Virgo baby wanted to be born and looking back, I wouldn't change a thing.
This is pretty much the most obvious statement I could make regarding the issue but I cannot imagine still being pregnant. The last month of gestation took it's toll physically and emotionally so going a month beyond that? I honestly don't know how I could have done it without constant medical intervention. Just think of the Cigna bill I'd have run up for weekly or possibly even more frequent L&D visits for IV meds! Did you know that without insurance one visit costs $1095?! Thank goodness for our $35 copay.
I was going to save the sentimental retrospection for tomorrow's One Month Birthday post so instead, I'll commemorate today by sharing that last night, Tess successfully co-slept for 4 straight hours without waking. That is the longest stretch of continuous slumber for mother and baby since probably early June. I allowed myself a brief happy dance, trying not to get ahead of my joy. Each day -- and each night -- is a new adventure.
So much for due dates...
I am convinced that IVF babies come early, complications excluded, because they have a head start on other embryos. Think about it: they are fertilized under controlled conditions and are 6-day-old blastocysts by the time they implant, almost immediately, in the uterus. There's no lollygagging. No margin for error. They need to get down to business right away if they're going to make it in this world and for that reason, I truly believe Tempest was one step ahead and oh-so-ready to meet us, regardless of her projected arrival. And yes, there's the preeclampsia to thank for the speed at which the decision was made to deliver her but I do think, had I enjoyed a totally uncomplicated pregnancy, that she would have made her entrance before October anyway. My sapphire Virgo baby wanted to be born and looking back, I wouldn't change a thing.
This is pretty much the most obvious statement I could make regarding the issue but I cannot imagine still being pregnant. The last month of gestation took it's toll physically and emotionally so going a month beyond that? I honestly don't know how I could have done it without constant medical intervention. Just think of the Cigna bill I'd have run up for weekly or possibly even more frequent L&D visits for IV meds! Did you know that without insurance one visit costs $1095?! Thank goodness for our $35 copay.
I was going to save the sentimental retrospection for tomorrow's One Month Birthday post so instead, I'll commemorate today by sharing that last night, Tess successfully co-slept for 4 straight hours without waking. That is the longest stretch of continuous slumber for mother and baby since probably early June. I allowed myself a brief happy dance, trying not to get ahead of my joy. Each day -- and each night -- is a new adventure.
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