Remember those Amy Butler pants I said I was going to make last month? Well, I finished them! This was pre-baby, of course. I am the epitome of unproductive right now because I am just enjoying this girl.
They are huge.
(No, I do not know how to take an in-focus photo with my auto-timer. Anyway...)
And, you know, it's okay that they are huge, because they are pajamas and they are super-comfy. But, seriously, I think you could fit three or four people into these pants, like two people per leg. And four people in one pair of pants is probably more excitement than I am prepared to handle right now. So, maybe in the future I will make pajamas that don't have legs fit for elephants. I know Erin skimmed a few inches off the legs of hers, and that worked, too. Just something to keep in mind if you decide to make these.
Oh, well. At least it's something finished.
Also, on a completely unrelated note, my floor is clean only because my mom is awesome and hired me a housecleaner for a month! Yay! Best baby gift ever. If you have daughters or daughters-in-law who ever have babies, you should totally hire them a housecleaner instead of buying them more onesies.
It is Monday, right? I'm having a hard time keeping my days straight lately.
Jonah woke up at 5 a.m. and screamed for 2 hours straight because he had a "yucky nose" and also because he wanted M&M's. This is the second time this week that Jonah has had a 5 a.m. M&M's tantrum. Lucky for me, Ryan is on Jonah duty right now. Poor Ryan.
Jonah also had a complete meltdown a few days ago when a FedEx box came and instead of having cakepops, it had a breastpump part. I have no idea why he thought the FedEx man would be bringing us a box of cakepops.
I am starting to wonder about almost two-year-old logic.
I am starting to wonder if breastfeeding is possibly pointless. Is it really worth sticking it out when the only feedback I am getting from the breastfeeding experts is, "Well, maybe someday she will get it..."? Also, I am really starting to hate all things Medela.
And yet, I am really sad that this isn't going well. Part of it is a stubbornness thing. I hate to be defeated by breastfeeding twice (even though I don't see a lick of difference between the health/brains/development of my two boys). And although I didn't expect to like it with Jonah, I was actually sad when he finally quit.
I have 8 loads of laundry sitting in my hallway.
My sink is overflowing with dishes.
I have already changed seven diapers today.
I still haven't eaten breakfast.
Jonah has no pants on because he has no pants.
And I am still in my pajamas.
My cell phone is beeping at me again because I still haven't figured out where I put my cell phone charger when I got home from the hospital.
My dog has lost all of her brain cells. I am seriously debating sending her to a new home if she doesn't find them quickly. My mom once had a dog that ran away out of frustration over a new baby. How horrible is it that I sometimes wish Maggie would run away lately? She is being completely neurotic and annoying and generally bad.
Mostly, all of the above is happening because I refuse to put this baby down. I love her. Laundry will wait. Pajamas are fine. Dogs are dogs.
Why do babies only stay newborns long enough to blink? It's so sad. I think pregnancy needs to go faster and the newborn phase needs to go slower.
She sleeps ALL OF THE TIME. Like, seriously, she never wakes up.
OK, she woke up long enough for me to take this picture.
Also, this one...
But, mostly, she is almost always asleep.
Also, is it a boy/girl thing that she is super quiet and mellow when the boys definitely weren't?
Jonah disappeared this morning. I couldn't find him anywhere. I was actually starting to panic. And then I found him. Here.
He had crawled into Matthew's closet, closed the doors, made himself a nest on the floor out of his blankie, and was nearly asleep when I found him.
It's the ugliest blankie ever, one we got as a gift from great-grandma when he was a newborn, but it has always been his favorite. He calls it his "night night." He is currently having yet another meltdown, this time over his blankie being in the washer, where he can't get it. He is banging on my laundry room door and screaming, "I see night-night! I see night-night now! Mom!!! Moooommmmmmeeeee!!!!"
I have explained to him that it's dirty and needs washed. Again with the almost-two-year-old logic.
I remember Matthew being oddly attached to an ugly blanket at this age, too.
I have eaten way too much of this in the last two days...
The hospital is a place where they take such good care of you that you will never actually get to sleep more than 45 minutes at a time. Because, in any given hour, they must come in and check your vital signs at least twice, just to make sure you haven't died. At night, you must be more likely to die, because then they come three times every hour. And then there is the beeping, and the chirping, and the alarms going off, and the doors opening and closing...
It's no wonder that everyone celebrates the day they get to take the baby home. At home, you aren't going to get any more of that awesome jell-o, and there is no machine with those super-tasty ice pellets that all hospitals have, but at least the only person who is going to be waking you up twice every hour is tiny and squishy and cute. (No offense, nurses.)
Those nurses, though... They do know how to make a hairbow stick. This one stayed in until Sofia got a bald spot. Very impressive.
Here are a few more of the photos we snapped while we were eating the jell-o and waiting for the go-ahead to go home.
Post-partum Kim. Tired and puffy-eyed, but happy.
Cutest daddy on the planet, right? Ryan gets the amazing husband of the year award for spending BOTH nights sleeping in the hospital chair when he totally didn't have to. Also for giving me lots of backrubs while I was pregnant and making lots of midnight trips to Sonic to buy me ice, among other things. So lucky to have him...
I am in love with this photo. Totally melts my heart. Matthew is completely over-the-moon about having a sister, which he has been requesting since he learned how to talk. Everyone else has to fight him to have a turn to hold her. This girl is going to be well-loved and protected by these boys, I'm sure. Matthew recently seems to have lost every brain cell in his head. I hear this is an eight-year-old-boy thing. In spite of this, he has been a pretty good helper over the last week when I've needed an extra set of hands around.
And just because I don't want him to be left out...
Mr. Personality. He seems so big all of the sudden, when just last week he still seemed so tiny! He is adjusting well, other than some frustration over the fact that I haven't been able to lift him. Also, there has been some frustration over the fact that some other kid is in my bed (his favorite place to snuggle). Mostly, though, he is very determined to be helpful, which isn't always as helpful as he thinks it is, but it's cute. In particular, he is rather demanding about the pump, which I am apparently supposed to use about every twenty minutes, which is how often he brings me the parts. Also, he is a little bit overly interested in whether or not the baby has her eyes open, and will help her to "wake up" if left unattended for more than thirty seconds.
Because my entire family and half of the other people I know have been pestering me about how I don't have any more than three new baby pictures up, I'm going to spend the next couple of days going through the 642 photos we've taken over the last week and will try to get some more of them posted!
So, for the good folks at Dr. Cox's office, this post is for you. (And if you are squeamish, you might want to move along, because I'm going to show you brand new Sofia here in just a second!) I have no idea what it looks like to have a "normal" birth, but this is what it looks like to have a baby via C-Section.
Yep, you just get to lay there and let someone else do the work. Awesome. See how happy I am right there? It's like I'm completely oblivious to the fact that there is a team of people slicing my abdomen right open! And that's because I am! Because there is a big sheet and I have no idea what is going on down there. Seriously, tell me this isn't the way to go about having a baby. No screaming and huffing and puffing and yelling at husbands going on here. Just blissful, anesthesia-induced oblivion.
It's THE birthing process for lazy people, that's what I'm telling you.
Especially when you've got a guy as good as my doctor, who is an old family friend. He's been my doctor since I was fifteen. This guy has the lowest C-Section percentage of any doctor I know. He was telling me he averages around 15%, when the national average is something closer to 35%. (Sorry, Dr. Cox, for being one of those people who ups your average!) All the same, he knows what he's doing. He's done hundreds of these over his career. I wouldn't trust just anyone to slice open my abdomen.
And then when your baby makes it's grand entrance into the world, here's the great thing. She won't have a conehead! Yay for pretty C-Section babies!
She sucks on her index finger. Cute, right? Anyway...
I recently had a friend make a comment along the lines of how she felt bad that I miss out on such an empowering experience by having C-Sections instead of "natural" births whenever I have babies. I would be more annoyed with this comment if I wasn't of the opinion that she is completely wrong. Having a baby is, of course, amazing, no matter how you choose to do it. You still hear the new baby cry. You still get to meet them for the first time. Most importantly, whatever way you go about giving birth, you get to be DONE BEING PREGNANT! YAY! Having a baby via C-Section is just empowering in a different way. I definitely won't tell you it's easy to have this surgery. It's scary to go into it. The prep is embarrassing. The anesthesia process is terrifying. The surgery makes you nervous, even if you can't see it. Recovery is painful and a lot of work. On top of all this, you still have to figure out all of the things that all new moms have to figure out, like breastfeeding and how to get enough sleep and how to make sure the rest of the family is getting what they need from you.
However, it's amazing to watch the body's ability to heal, to know that in just a few days after it has been cut open, it's going to stitch itself back together again. It's amazing to see what part your own attitude plays in that process. It's fun to be able to surprise people with how determined you are to bounce back after a big surgery like this. I love that I can walk down the hospital hallway almost as soon after giving birth as the "natural" birth crowd, much to the surprise of whatever nurse is in charge of me. I love that nobody can ever believe how well I'm doing. On my fifth post-surgery day (typically my hardest recovery day for reasons I won't get into here), I went to two soccer games and to lunch at Cafe Rio with my whole family, just because I refuse to let surgery slow me down. It's been a week since I had surgery, and I'm still not allowed to do any crazy lifting or working out, but since I rarely work out anyway, life is pretty much back to normal, or as normal as it can be with a school kid, a wild almost-two-year-old, and a new baby. The scars are healing, I'm feeling good, and I'm happy. Happy to be done with pregnancy, happy to be home with my family, happy that my body is doing what it's supposed to be doing, and happy that I have this new little perfect person to snuggle and get to know.