5 weeks 2 days...

4 weeks 6 days - Hiku Baby:
Have I told you that's what we call her?  Hiku - (hee-coo).  Our little hiku hiku baby.  She gets the hiccups pretty regularly (totally normal, per Dr. Google), and she makes the most adorable sounds when she hiccups, a little "hee-coo" sound.  Oh, she's so precious.

The week feels like a settling-in; I'm starting to notice a pattern in her sleeping and waking and eating.  She's slept through the night - 7 hour stretches! - for the last 4 nights, allowing mommy and daddy a good night's sleep, so we all wake rested and ready to face our day.  She's been a little fussy during the days, but then, she didn't poop for over a week, so probably I would've been fussy too.  She seems more content today - she finally pooped yesterday, after getting half a glycerin suppository.  She pooped in her diaper, and twice on the changing table.  Lots and lots of poop. 

5 weeks 2 days:
I started this entry on Sunday.  It's now Wednesday.  I suck at blogging these days.  At least I have an excuse now - babies take a lot of time.  And when she's not taking up my time, there are dishes and laundry and showers and meals to pick up her slack.  There's just not time for the internet, or rather, I've not yet managed to make it a priority.  Talk about a lifestyle change! 

I've had an urge to tie one on and smoke cigarettes.  I'd like to drink about 6 beers in a row, while sitting on my front porch with a friend and a pack of cigarettes and a warm Spring evening.  It's been 10 months since my last cigarette, and I thought I was over the cravings.  I guess that monkey is still hanging out on my back every now and then - I'll just keep knocking it off.  Not giving in.  And I'm not willing to pump and dump, so looks like I'll be staying sober for now, too.  Babies change everything.

My pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome has not gone away with the end of the pregnancy.  My wrists hurt all the time, most especially when I'm picking Evie up - something about the angle exacerbates the pain.  I guess I need to see my doctor - looks like I'll end up needing cortisone shots.  I'm thrilled.  :|

I'm eating oatmeal every day to help with my milk production, and taking fenugreek pills 3 times a day.  I'm trying to drink plenty of water.  I'm trying to pump twice a day, but most days I only manage to do it once.  I need to step it up; she's going to need something to eat when I go back to work. Stacy says she didn't really even start pumping until right before she went back, though, so I've got faith that we're going to make this transition just fine, at least from the feeding the baby perspective.

As for my mental state regarding going back to work, well...I'm not happy about it.  I don't want to leave my baby with someone else, not even someone I know and love and trust.  She's my baby; she should be with me and I should be the one taking care of her.  Unfortunately, becoming a one-income household isn't an option for us.  I foresee a conversation/negotiation with my boss in my near future - one that results in a pack-n-play at the end of my desk.  I've mentioned it a few times as a joke - Momma ain't jokin' no more.  She's so tiny and little and she needs me. 

Her one-month appointment was put off a week because our doctor was on vacation, but we got in there yesterday and got her updated stats - she's weighing in at 8 pounds 9.5 ounces (15.5 ounces more than three weeks ago!) and measures 21.5 inches in length (an inch longer than her 1-week appointment).  She's perfect and growing strong and that makes me so very happy.

4 weeks - Babies are hard, but awesome.

One of these days, I really will finish her birth story.  I keep waiting for it to be the weekend...and then I realize, again, that there is no weekends off from this new job.  Full time means FULL TIME.  All the time.  Always.  24/7. 

Except for Friday afternoon, when Jimi came home early from work.  I'd just finished feeding Evie, and she was happy and content - we were having a good day.  Jimi told me he was taking baby duty for the afternoon and that I should get out and enjoy the beautiful afternoon.  It was beautiful outside - I hadn't noticed.  I've not paid much attention to the weather for the last 4 weeks, and have left the house only a handful of times.  I was so overwhelmed at the idea of not being in charge of a little baby, I didn't know what to do with my newfound freedom.  Where would I go?  I'm sure I could've found someone to meet me somewhere for a drink or something, but that seemed like a wild idea, too wild, so instead, I did laundry, vacuumed Evie's room, cleaned up the kitchen, and went grocery shopping for an hour.  (I really do love grocery shopping, so that was a real treat.) 

She hasn't pooped in nearly a week, and apparently that's normal.  I'm obsessed with her bodily functions. She farts all the time, mostly upon waking and stretching.  They stink and are loud like her Daddy's and are absolutely hilarious and adorable and the best things ever.  Her doctor is on vacation this week, so we won't get her weight and length updates until next week - but I can tell how much she's growing.  Her little legs and cheeks are starting to fill out and plump up, and she's got the beginnings of a double chin.  Her legs are getting longer and are so strong - she kicks and kicks and tries to stand and uses her legs to launch herself off your chest.  Her little neck is strong, too - she holds her head up and bobbles it around, trying to see it all.  She loves bath time, cooing and watching everything going on around her...until bath time is over, at which point she gets cold and gets pissed off.  Much screaming oft ensues, though she can be calmed a bit by a full-body coconut oil massage.  Is there anything better in the world than a little naked baby?  She's so soft and little and sweet and adorable.  And she smells so good; I love smelling her little head when I hold her close, her fine little hairs tickling my nose. 

She got her first bottle late last week, and my nipples rejoiced from the respite.  Suddenly we've got the makings of something that could be a schedule (though I don't want to say that too loudly, lest I tempt fate) - Momma's gotten lots of good sleep in the last few days.  Of course, Daddy taking the middle-of-the-night shifts over the weekend was a huge factor in that.  I love that he can feed her now, and he really loves it too.  He's over the moon for her - it's a beautiful thing to watch. 

We went to the mall Friday night to buy her an Easter dress.  Not that we were going anywhere, just to my Mom & Dad's, but we wanted to have something pretty to put her in, and something that fit - all of her clothes are too big, sized 0-3 months, and she really needs to be wearing newborn right now.  We'd been through Macy's and Dillard's, found nothing, and were headed to JC Penny.  I was admiring the Vera Bradley diaper bags by the exit, and it hit me - "Jimi, did you bring the diaper bag?"  No, he didn't.  We'd come to the mall with an infant with just a carseat and a moby wrap as accoutrement.  Not a single diaper or wipe or change of clothes.  We laughed a nervous laugh and shrugged our shoulders.  Oh well.  Cross our fingers and hope for the best.  She slept the entire time, nearly 3 hours, waking only because I dared move her from the warm moby into the cold carseat - and then she screamed the entire way home because there wasn't a boob in her mouth.  Sweet baby. 

 I really love being her mom.  She's so neat. 

3 weeks 2 days - Babies are hard.

We were getting along swimmingly, and then I think she gave my nipples the thrush.  Suddenly my right nipple felt like it was being pierced when she ate - I've cried a lot in the last few days.  And then her latch got lazy - she only wants the top half, thank you very much, you can keep that bottom part.  Except that's excruciating.  So we're relearning our nursing manners.  I've cried a lot in the last few days. 

It's overwhelming that I'm the only one who can feed her.  I feel like I'm with her every second of every day and that I never get a break.  I remind myself that a baby is what I wanted, and that this is part of what it means to have a baby.  I look into her sweet face and count my blessings again - but I'm so tired.  Two of the last three nights have been really rough (have I mentioned how much I've cried?).  Thankfully, she seems to know right when I've hit my limit, and she magically goes to sleep - for 3 or 4 hours.  So she's working me.  I get that now.  She's training me.  It's rough training, man.

Jimi tries to help, but I understand why he says he feels helpless, useless - there's just not a lot he can do.  I think he's sick of fetching me water and snacks, and I feel guilty every time I ask for another favor, but I'm stuck where I am, you know?  I try to get him to change as many diapers as possible, not to pass off the task, but so he can get some face time in with his daughter - of course, she hates having her diaper changed, so in his mind she's starting to associate him with horrible things, like a cold hooha.  And some nights nothing will console her but a nipple, and his don't fit the bill - and I get jealous as hell watching him over on the couch, able to get up and move around all nimbly pimbly whenever he likes.  I squash down my feelings of resentment - it's not his fault he can't feed her. 


I wonder how we'll ever get on enough of a schedule for me to go back to work in 4 weeks.  I wonder how I'll ever manage to leave her in the care of someone else for 9 hours a day.  This mom shit is serious bidness, yo. 

2 weeks 5 days - Love like this...

Oh, I love her so much. 

Geneva is nearly 3 weeks old.  I still haven't finished writing her birth story.  I don't have a lot of time where she's not in my arms, and when I do, I find myself spending it showering, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, eating, and sleeping.  There's so precious little time for those things - I haven't picked up the computer for more than 10 minutes in at least 2 weeks. My entire life has changed, my priorities have shifted, my world is a new place full of uncharted territory.  Anything for her.  I miss her when she's sleeping, and find myself wanting to snuggle up with her the way a child cuddles with a favorite stuffed animal.  She's so small and soft and warm.  I wonder how I've lived my whole life without knowing her?  And she's a stranger I'm getting to know, but at the same time, I feel like I know her intimately, like we're part of the same soul...does that sound crazy?  Probably.  I'm tired.  I love this little baby. 

She hiccups all the time - most especially after a meal.  She makes the most adorable little noises.  We're calling her Hiku - our little HikuHiku baby. 

Sometimes it just washes over me - I have a daughter.  A child.  A baby girl named Geneva.  I wondered for so long if this day would ever arrive.  Here I am, here we are.  Happiness defined. 

She's snoring a little.  I wonder if it is something I should worry about, or do all babies snore?  She's so pretty and sweet and wonderful.  I love her so much.

41.5 - Happy Birthday Geneva!

Our beautiful daughter, Geneva Aibhilin, was welcomed into the world on Monday March 4, 2013, at 11:34 p.m..  She weighed in at 7 pound 8.7 ounces, measured 20 inches long, and is absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on. 

I was 41 weeks, 5 days, and had been at 3 cm, 60% effaced for the previous two weeks and was frustrated and facing a very-much-not-wanted induction on 3/5.  I was scared of pitocin - I was afraid it would make the contractions more than I could stand, and scared it would lead to an epidural or c-section.  Fortunately, Geneva decided to arrive on her own terms, and I felt my first contraction around 2:30 in the morning.  I remember thinking "that's probably what a contraction feels like" - I'd been wondering how I'd know, but what other women had told me held true - you can tell.  To me, it felt like a strong, though brief, menstrual cramp.  I made note of the time, and then went back to sleep.  I felt several more as the time passed, and when my husband got up for a restroom visit at 4:30, I mentioned to him how I'd been contracting for a couple hours.  That was all she wrote for our sleep for the night - I'd spoken the magic words, and they officially woke us up.  I started timing - we stayed in bed until around 6, and with the contractions around 7 minutes apart, I realized this was probably the real thing, so I got up and took a shower.  Jimi made us oatmeal for breakfast, and I made a pan of brownies for the nursing staff.  When my midwife's office opened at 8 a.m., I called and gave them the scoop - because I'm group b strep positive, they told me to head on to the hospital.  This was it! 

Check-in went quickly, and because I was so overdue already, I was put directly into a room - they reassured me that I wouldn't be leaving the hospital without my baby.  I was told to change into a hospital gown, was strapped to the monitors, and an IV for antibiotics was started.  In other words - things were starting off in exactly the way I hadn't wanted to labor.  I felt like a sick person, but I wasn't sick!  I was just in labor!    When the nurse checked me, I was still only at a 3 - I assured her I hadn't been making up the contractions.  She smiled at me and told me she knew, and not to worry because if things didn't speed up on their own, there were things that could be done to make things happen.  That was the closest anyone came to offering me medications, and it wasn't an explicit offer by any means. 

After my first round of antibiotics was complete, my midwife came in and unhooked the monitors and IV so I could change into my own clothes rather than the gown - I felt much more human and less sick wearing my black maternity dress.  When they checked me again and still there'd been no progress, they brought me a breast pump to use to try to stimulate more contractions, and boy did it work.  When we started, I was able to breathe easily through each wave, rocking on the birth ball or leaning over the side of the bed.  After one 15-minute session with the pump, I was needing to get down on all fours to rock myself through the waves.  I spent the next 3 to 4 hours pacing my room and and getting down on the floor or up into the bed onto my hands and knees each time a wave hit.  I did manage to lie down and nap briefly in that time, maybe for 30 minutes. 

My midwife came in after office hours and we discussed my options - did I want to be checked?  What were my options if I hadn't progressed?  She mentioned a balloon catheter, maybe more pumping...I decided I wanted to be checked - i needed to know if things were moving along.  She did, and they were - now I was between 5 and 6 cm.  Thank goodness!  I was so relieved to know things were happening, that the last few hours hadn't been for naught.  I continued my rocking for another hour or so, then asked to move to the tub.  Jimi ran me a warm bath, and I climbed in.  The water didn't offer the complete pain relief for which I'd been hoping, but it did make the waves more tolerable, more bearable. 

I'm not sure of the timeline that followed after - at one point, I felt what was almost a pop inside my belly, followed by a whoosh between my legs.  I was pretty sure that was my water breaking, but I was submerged in water, so I couldn't be sure.  Jimi was sitting on the edge of the tub, reminding me with each wave to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, to "Relax" (a cue from Hypnobabies reminding me to let my body go limp).  At one point I asked him to sing to me; he sang "Sweet Baby James" and "Raspberry Beret".  He also called me "Momma Manatee" as I flopped from side to belly to side in the water - in another time and place I would've laughed, but in the moment I could only think incredulously, "He just called me a fucking manatee."  I was starting to get vocal, too,  Ooohing and Aaahing through each wave, remembering what I'd read, that relaxing the jaw and vocalizing can help with pain control.  I don't know if it made anything feel better, but it did make me feel better to let out some sign of what I was feeling.  The waves started at the middle of my belly and radiated out across my waist and around to my back, almost like a wide belt of strong menstrual cramps, but much deeper and more intense and stronger than anything I'd ever felt before.  I began to lose myself - I didn't have much interest or concern for anything outside of my body, I was just following the cues, doing what felt right and offered the most relief. 

This will have to be a Part 1 - there's so much more to tell, and my sleeping baby time is so short...

But here's a hint - the story ends with a beautiful little girl safely in my arms.  It's the most beautiful ending beginning.