The first week was absolutely terrifying. I cried more in the first week than any other, sometimes for good reasons (Like a baby that wouldn't nurse, causing me to panic that I would be forced to go back to work so that we could pay for formula), sometimes for obvious reasons (Like you would expect someone being overtaken by hormones would), sometimes for petty reasons (Like looking in the mirror at the shape of my stomach), and sometimes for no reason at all (Like at three o'clock in the morning when the baby is eating peacefully and you're stuck thinking about how tired you are.) In the midst of all the water works, I was completely captivated by my sweet, teeny tiny baby. I guess maybe I'm not like most moms, and even though I knew I loved her before I saw her, I fell into a completely captivating love as I got to spend time with her outside of the hospital. The first week was the hardest week for me, because even though I know about babies, I was completely clueless about newborns. Was it normal for her to make those noises? Why was she coughing at 4 days old? Why were eyes a yellow tint where they should have been white? I knew the answer to most of those things based on common sense, but it was hard not to call her pediatrician and say "I know she's okay now, but when should I be concerned?" I never called, but I certainly blew my mom's phone up. I was terrified of bathing her with the cord still attached, so my mom bathed her for the first week. The baby hated bath time. Absolutely hated it. It was a very stressful time for me... but more so Ella. We were so tired, and I'm so thankful that Cody's wonderful job gave him 2 weeks off of work. I sincerely don't know that we would've survived. He slept at night, and I slept during the day between feedings. He was wonderful for diaper changes, burping her after she ate, and it was wonderful to see him bond with her. There's absolutely no doubt that the first week is the sweetest kind of torture you'll ever endure. It was worse than Labor... but we would forget our misery as soon as we would look at her sweet tiny face. You'll find that your life has changed drastically, and you'll celebrate like never before the first time the baby has a bowel movement that isn't meconium (go ahead and look that word up), and you'll rejoice over multiple urine diapers. It means that they're getting sufficient food, and their tiny stomach is functioning and full. It's a great victory for a first time nursing mom.
The days started running together for awhile as we transitioned into the second week, and we had to take Ella back to the doctor for her one week check-up. I was suffering a pulled muscle next to my incision (It was terrifying, I sincerely thought that I had ripped a stitch and that I would have to take my sweet baby daughter to the germ filled emergency room. Those are things you don't think about when you plan to breastfeed.) I decided to risk a hemorrhage and wait it out (yes, I was that dramatic, do not judge me.) All the while, our sweet baby was slowly distinguishing days from nights. At her one week check up, she weighed 6'1, and mama almost passed out that she had lost 4 ounces. I was assured that it was normal, and that she had likely gained weight since we had been home. I don't know what her weight was when we left the hospital. She had a little jaundice, but apparently on a scale of 20, she was only a 9. They only grow concerned at 15 or above. They asked a million questions about her feeding schedule, whether I was suffering baby blues (the answer was yes, by the way, and it's okay to admit it,) and her bowel movements. We were given the green light to take her back home with us, which was my first sigh of relief. Maybe we were going to make it after all. Our sweet baby slept through the entire appointment, a brief trip to Target, and the ride home. It was glorious. She started sleeping for three hours a night instead of a different schedule every night, and really caught on to the concept of nursing. I went to the doctor and got a thumbs up for keeping my incision cleaned well, and I had to bid farewell to my wonderful doctor that had taken such wonderful care of us over the past 9 months. It's kind of strange how attached you grow to your doctor, because you don't realize how big of a role he plays until it's all said and done, and you look at your sweet healthy baby. It was bittersweet, and I'm still so thankful that he made the best decisions for Ella and myself during my pregnancy. Anyway, our sweet one grew and thrived during the second week, and I was actually excited for her doctor's appointment to see how much weight she had gained.
Before I knew it, it was time for her 2 week check-up at the doctor. She was a day shy of being three weeks old, I guess it's all the same to them. We weighed her with a diaper on, then weighed her without one. Ella has a fun habit of peeing EVERYWHERE if she gets a chill while her diaper is off, and sure enough, she peed all over the table. The good news is that she gained ONE whole pound, plus an ounce, putting her at 7'2. The pediatrician was super impressed, saying than about an ounce a day is the goal for baby girls, and Ella kind of stomped that goal over two weeks. I was proud of my sweet fatty, and even more excited that she grew over an inch in two weeks as well! She passed the rest of her check-up with flying colors, and I was feeling pretty good about myself as a mom, even when my naked baby pooped all over the exam table. Then came the heel poke. It's miserable to watch, because she obviously had no idea what was coming. The needle prick scared her, but the screaming didn't start until they started filling in the dots with her blood. Even when she hasn't had a needle shoved into her foot, she HATES having her feet held against her will... so that was hard for me to listen to. I tried to stay out of the nurses way, but I finally put my face right against hers and talked to her a little bit.. and she actually stilled at the sound of my voice. It's the first time that she was very obviously comforted by me, and that was wonderful in the midst of such a sad situation. She looked completely adorable in her jeggings and cardigan, and slept the rest of the day.
By week three, Ella and the exhaustion kind of felt like normal to me. She started cluster feeding during that week, meaning she eats from 10 o'clock at night until 1 o'clock in the morning. She'll eat for ten minutes, then take a twenty minute break, then eat again. It's exhausting for me, since I'm literally at her mercy for three hours, but the great thing about it is that she sleeps from 1 a.m. to 6 a.m., then eats for about thirty minutes before sleeping until about 9:30. I get my allotted amount of sleep, she's fat and happy, and I don't feel like I'm dying from no sleep. That's not to say that we don't have an occasional bad night, whether that be having tummy issues until 2 in the morning or waking up for a random 3 o'clock feeding that lasts for 40 minutes, but for the most part, she has a pretty good routine down. I love that little bit of consistency in life.
My Grandparents from Okie brought along my Aunt and cousin for a visit to Texas. They were able to spend some sweet cuddles with Ella, and even though it was tough to make her eat somewhere that wasn't the comfort of our home (it's really interesting how babies are so aware of their surroundings), it was good practice for when it's really time to introduce her to the outside world in a couple of weeks. It is absolutely exhausting getting both of us ready when we have to be somewhere at a specific time. If we don't have a schedule, everything is easy breezy and falls right into place. If there's a designated time, you can bet that all hell is going to break loose. She'll demand an extra feeding, ruin her outfit with a bowel movement, scream for me to hold her, or I'll lose track of time myself. I think that's just kind of Murphy's Law with new parents, but we're getting better at getting ready faster. My advice is take all the advantage in the world of their sleeping, even if you don't have to be somewhere for 4 hours. Get ready while you can, not when you planned to. We enjoyed our time with them regardless, and I do hope to get Ella up to Enid soon to meet her great-great-grandma Bee. It's so wonderful that she has the opportunity to meet so many people who love her so deeply!
To round out the month, it's kind of crazy to still feel so clueless and to feel like she's always been a part of our lives simultaneously. I've learned that no two days will be the same, and that's okay for now. She might not be on a routine yet, but she's getting fairly easy to predict, which makes planning our day easier. I've learned to distinguish her cries, and now I can help her through a tummy ache instead of growing frustrated that she's crying but won't eat. She really is a wonderful baby, and we don't discount how blessed we are for a minute. She cries over her stomach or over hunger, but it's a pretty whimper filled cry, so when she really does get angry and cry loud during a late night diaper change, it's a little scary. She sleeps in her crib during the day, and I've adapted to it fairly well. I only check on her every 5 minutes instead of standing over her crib and watching her breathe (as I did in the beginning.) At night, she sleeps in a cradle beside our bed, and sometimes she does really well. Other times, she wants to be close to her mama, and so she lays with me. I'm sure I'll get plenty of "That's a hard habit to break!" and "You better stop before that becomes a habit!" And Maybe I'll regret it later, but right now, I have a tiny baby who makes the sweetest sounds while she dreams, and she'll only be tiny enough to cradle in my arms for a little while. I'll never regret cuddling her while I had the chance. When she's 2 years old and hogging the bed, it might be annoying, but it'll be something that Cody and I laugh about when she's grown. Hopefully we will have broken the habit by then. You never know with cuddlers. I still curl up next to my Mom when I have the chance.
This baby is in love with her Daddy, and I am certain that the sentiment is mutual. I tease Cody about her being the love in his life and me being the full-time Nanny, but I think that maybe this is how things are supposed to go for now. Maybe as she gets older and rolls her eyes at his jokes, or stares at him with a confused look on her face when he starts rambling about audio, or isn't interested in sitting in 20 degree weather to shoot a deer, he might see a little bit of me in her personality, and I'll win him back again. He has done a wonderful job at pulling me close to him and kissing my cheek when I'm frazzled trying to feed a baby, peel potatoes, and clean up the juice I spilled all at the same time (yes, this actually happened.) He's made sure to tell me he loves me the most, and he's taken me on dates while my mom cuddled the baby at home... but she brings out the most tender, caring side of him. When he looks at her, I see what love really looks like. When he talks to her, it's a voice that I know will comfort her when she's old enough for scraped knees and bad dreams. When he laughs at a face she makes, I see what it means to be adored. It makes my heart feel like it's going to burst, and it makes me okay with losing a little bit of the attention I'm used to. I still want to thump her in the head when he walks right by me because he's so anxious to see her, but that's just a girl and her daddy.
All in all, our lives are so radically different... but they're so much sweeter. We're loved and adored by a baby that tolerates our kiss attacks, waits as we learn to figure her out, and smiles when we tell her we love her. She melts our hearts everyday, and even though she's only a month old today, it already hurts to know that someday she'll be too big to scoop up and cuddle. I try not to dwell on those thoughts, because I want to rejoice in her life as she grows, and I know that each new age will bring another reason to love her. I'm excited for giggles, less feedings in the day (breastfeeding is a 24/7 job. Sometimes I don't know how she could POSSIBLY be hungry again, but she eats on), and for her to hold her head up on her own. I'm excited for her to reach for me when she sees me, and I'm excited to see more fat rolls pop up on her sweet legs. Until then, I'm soaking up every minute, and I love that I'm able to stay home and watch her grow. I'm so thankful for my husband.
We've opted to do the monthly photo with a stuffed animal. One of our favorite people, Karen, bought Ella the funniest little "Socktopus," and I thought it would be perfect for these pictures. So the first one is Ella at one week old, and the second one is Ella today!
My only word of advice to a new mom is to ban the word "overwhelmed" from your vocabulary. It's really easy to dwell in that state of mind if you say it over and over again. It might be how you feel, but you're raising a baby... of course things are going to get a little out of your control. Rejoice in the chaos. Oh, and don't listen to "Butterfly Kisses." Just... Don't.
I know this picture is blurry, but it just sums up joy for me, which is the best word to describe Ella. We are so, so blessed, and the Lord is so, so faithful. As Darius Rucker says in his excessively depressing song that makes me cry hysterically, "One day soon we'll look back laughing at the week we brought her home..."
Mama Gaines Out.
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