Tag: parenthood

It’s been a busy week here! Between custom orders and new doodles and shop updates and baby fun, I’m learning to juggle many roles, old and new. Tomorrow we throw another into the mix: The Day Job.

If you’d asked me 8 weeks ago how I was feeling about going back to work, I might have thrown the baby at you and said, “I’ll see you at 5!” Now I’m feeling more ambivalent, but I think it will be OK. If parenthood has taught me anything, it’s that plans and expectations are for people without kids.

For example:

• We planned a drug-free home birth and ended up at the hospital saying “Epidural, please!”
• I planned to breastfeed exclusively, but milk supply issues nipped that in the bud, so now Ellie is all too familiar with Mr. Bottle and Mrs. Enfamil.
• I spent most of my pregnancy reading anything and everything about sleep training, fearing I’d never see an eight-hour stretch again, only to discover our daughter is a champion sleeper.
• I planned to cloth diaper almost exclusively, but my first encounter with formula poop was enough to convince me that $40 for a bulk box of disposables at Sam’s Club is money well spent.
• I told myself that no baby needs fancy schmancy toys to thrive, so we would not be spending money on the latest and greatest baby swings, bouncers, or playthings… she’d live on love and her imagination. And then I met Mr. Fisher Price and the Precious Planet series.

And the list goes on.

So although I’m feeling a little sad about heading back to the office, I’ve decided to approach it like everything else in my life these days… with no firm expectations whatsoever. Maybe I will be pleasantly surprised.

If I had one word to describe the last few weeks, it would be “surreal.” It’s 5 a.m. and there’s a baby on my chest, snoozing in her new Snugli carrier. This would be night number 3? 4? where Tim or I is up at some ungodly hour because she’s gassy and fighting sleep.

I didn’t think this would be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I guess I thought it might be… easier? I suppose I expected I’d feel better suited to the task of motherhood… that after going through pregnancy and birth, I would feel like a Parent-with-a-capital-P.

But to be honest, I still feel like a kid playing house.

Oh, there are good days, of course… days when I’m competent and calm and can handle anything she throws at me. Then there are the days when it seems I can do nothing right, when she will not stop crying no matter how much rocking, soothing, and feeding I do. It’s those times when I feel like the worst parent in the world.

I haven’t quite integrated “mother” into my world view. In short, I can’t believe she’s ours to keep. Any day now I expect the “real” parents to walk through the door and say, “Thanks for taking care of our baby girl for us! We’ll take her now.” (Admittedly, on the nights when I am most hurting for sleep, this is more than just a fleeting thought… it’s a full-fledged fantasy). Then life would go back to normal… just T & I, hanging out, responsible only to ourselves.

On the other hand, if something like that were to actually happen, I know I’d never let anyone take her from me. I’d do anything to keep her safe. The mama bear instincts are definitely there, but they’re taking more time to assimilate than expected. Daughter, sister, wife… mom? It’s like a new pair of shoes that have yet to be broken in… the role fits, but it’s not quite comfortable.

So after 3 weeks, the verdict is: it’s hard sometimes. But then the other day I was holding her, and her eyes locked onto Tim and followed him–it was as if she were truly seeing him and recognizing him for the first time–and then she smiled the most beautiful baby smile I have ever seen. Yeah, it was probably just gas, but it brought tears to my eyes. And those rare, almost heartbreaking moments make these early mornings totally worthwhile.

• New baby smell
• The downy softness of her hair after a bath
• The little piggy noises she makes when she eats
• The dimples in her cheeks when she cries
• Her impressive array of facial expressions
• Her first uncertain, fleeting smiles

Elspeth Margaret Moore
Dec. 20, 2008 @ 7:01 a.m.
7 lbs, 13 oz | 21.5 inches

More to follow when I have a chance to type with both hands.  🙂

Baby girl is full term… yesterday marked 37 weeks, and let me tell you, I am so ready to meet this kid and have my body back!

Only the last week or so has been truly uncomfortable. My feet look like overstuffed sausages. I walk like a duck. The smallest physical effort–climbing a flight of stairs, for example–requires the focus and concentration of a professional athlete. I’ve never been in particularly great shape, but prior to this I could easily walk a mile or two without feeling the strain or having to stop for breath. Now? The idea of walking any distance greater than a couple car lengths is laughable. My body has never felt so cumbersome and foreign.

We’ve also discovered that our dear daughter is breech, which could throw a wrench into our granola-hippy home birth plans. We’ll know more on Monday. As I’ve told Tim, she’s not even out of the womb yet and she’s already defiant and stubborn… we’re doomed. And I mean that in the most loving, motherly way possible!

All the drama, all the discomfort… is it worth it? Yes. I’m trying to be positive.

But ask me again in another week. 😉

Hello folks!

We’ve been up to our ears in all things baby.  Between sorting through piles of clothes and other assorted goodies (thanks, Sarah!), meetings with a new midwife and childbirth classes, I’m feeling positively maternal. If that wasn’t enough, Murloc Baby has taken up a correspondence course in kickboxing. I’m not sure where she’s learning her new moves, but they’re effective… although it’s a bit unnerving to look down at my lap and see my stomach moving by itself.

Which leads me to… my first belly shot! Yay! I know, I know, I’m light years behind the times and over halfway through this pregnancy, but let’s face it–I had a pretty significant belly to begin with, and until recently it pretty much obscured the more subtle changes. The last couple weeks made for a belly growth spurt, though. My belly button is begging for its life, and I see maternity jeans in my near future. Which reminds me, if you’re a plus-size mom and you have recommendations, please send them my way. I’m clueless when it comes to clothing, and so far the thrift shops and mainstream clothing stores in the area have turned up nothing short of a mumu and an old potato sack.

Oh, and bonus pic: I now have glasses. This probably doesn’t mean much to you, dear Internets, but if you could have seen me in the first five minutes after leaving the optometrist’s with my new prescription, you’d understand the impact. It went something like this:

Me: “OH MY GOD LOOK OVER THERE!”

Tim: “What?!? What!?!”

Me:”That sign! See that sign!?!? I CAN READ IT! It says ‘Welcome back students!’ WOW!”

Tim: “… Uhh… yes, glasses are great like that.”

Me: “OH! And look over there! See that one?!? It says ‘Bennoch Road!’ And there! That guy’s license plate! It says…”

Tim: “… so, uhh, how long are you going to do this?”

Me: “Man! The world… it has edges.”