I have the post-maternity blues. I'm not talking about Postpartum Depression, thankfully. Or even the slightly less serious condition with the undeservedly cute name, Baby Blues. Trust me, the blues you feel post-baby are not "baby" in size...it can feel pretty stinkin' overwhelming.
No, the blues I'm currently talking about is the post-maternity wardrobe blues. The realization that absolutely nothing you own fits. No single piece of clothing in your wardrobe fits your transition body. My pregnancy clothes are blessedly too big. And even if they do fit (let's hear it for drawstring waists!), I'm sick to death of wearing them. On the other hand, I'm not nearly back in my normal clothes yet. My body is strangely out of proportion from the way it used to be.
Oh sure, I got the 6 week "go-ahead" from my doctor. You know, the "you're-fully-recovered-from-your-surgery-and-can-start-exercising-again" go-ahead. Did anyone else feel like laughing in your doctor's face when she said that? I'm sorry, there are times when if given the choice between sleeping and doing absolutely anything else on the planet, including winning the lottery or meeting Hugh Jackman, I will choose sleep without even thinking twice. Yeah, exercising doesn't even make my top ten list.
So, it's really no wonder that nothing I own fits me...but it's still supremely annoying. Even shirts that fit fine everywhere else, now look a little...um...okay, a lot trashy with my newly inflated nursing figure. Yep, The Girls are currently of a size that many people pay good money to get.
However, it is against my religion to go out and buy clothes for my transitional state. I did give in and buy a pair of jeans a few simple shirts from Old Navy...always affordable. I hated doing it, but not nearly as much as I hate not having anything that fits right.
Oh well, such is life after having a baby. I just needed a chance to vent about it to people who would know the feeling and share in my annoyance. Here's wishing you all beautiful spring weather, restful sleep and jeans that fit.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Little Piece of Heaven
Cameron has been going through this new phase for the past week. He's pretty predictable...Kevin calls him Clockwork Orange. He wakes up, I feed him, change his diaper, re-swaddle him, and then he's ready to go back to sleep. It takes about 10-15 minutes to rock him back to sleep, and then he's down for about 3 hours. So we're on a rotating 4 hour schedule. Not too bad. To make things better, he's started sleeping a little longer at night, which is wonderful.
The not so wonderful new development is he has started refusing to go to sleep in the evening. So he and I do this routine all day, then at his early evening feeding (sometime between 6pm and 8pm) we feed him, change him, swaddle him up and then he stares at us for the next 3 hours. No amount of rocking will lull him to sleep. But he's tired... if we try to play with him he gets all cranky. He just lays on a pillow, swaddled like a little bundle, sucking on his pacifier, staring. He'll occasionally doze off, but if we try to lay him down in his crib he wakes up crying and it only escalates until we pick him up and return him to the pillow on the couch where he continues staring. This continues until we hit the magical 4 hour mark, at which point he cries to eat...then we feed him, bathe him, swaddle him, and then he goes to bed. He'll often wake up about 15 minutes later crying, but once he goes down after that, he's out.
Okay, that was much more long winded then I intended.
ANYWAY, last night we did this same new little routine starting at 10:45 p.m. -- feeding, bath, pj's, swaddle, one little wake up, and then he was out. He woke up to eat at 4:30 a.m. and then again at 9:30 a.m. Pretty dang good!
After the 9:30 a.m. feeding, Kevin took him to rock him back to sleep, and I crashed back out. Ok, here comes the good part...the whole reason I started this embarrassingly long winded post. At about 11:30 a.m. Kevin comes back in and wakes me up with breakfast in bed!! He brought me a huge plate of pancakes and cold glass of milk. I got to lay in bed, eat pancakes, and read a magazine for 45 minutes. It was bliss! Then, to make things better, when I got up to shower, Kevin had separated the laundry (which he has since taken down to the wash), cleaned up the kitchen, and picked up the living room.
Ahh...it makes me happy again just thinking about it.
Well, just wanted to brag on my fantastically thoughtful husband. Also, if anyone out there has any thoughts about Cameron's little little sleeping strike, let me know.
The not so wonderful new development is he has started refusing to go to sleep in the evening. So he and I do this routine all day, then at his early evening feeding (sometime between 6pm and 8pm) we feed him, change him, swaddle him up and then he stares at us for the next 3 hours. No amount of rocking will lull him to sleep. But he's tired... if we try to play with him he gets all cranky. He just lays on a pillow, swaddled like a little bundle, sucking on his pacifier, staring. He'll occasionally doze off, but if we try to lay him down in his crib he wakes up crying and it only escalates until we pick him up and return him to the pillow on the couch where he continues staring. This continues until we hit the magical 4 hour mark, at which point he cries to eat...then we feed him, bathe him, swaddle him, and then he goes to bed. He'll often wake up about 15 minutes later crying, but once he goes down after that, he's out.
Okay, that was much more long winded then I intended.
ANYWAY, last night we did this same new little routine starting at 10:45 p.m. -- feeding, bath, pj's, swaddle, one little wake up, and then he was out. He woke up to eat at 4:30 a.m. and then again at 9:30 a.m. Pretty dang good!
After the 9:30 a.m. feeding, Kevin took him to rock him back to sleep, and I crashed back out. Ok, here comes the good part...the whole reason I started this embarrassingly long winded post. At about 11:30 a.m. Kevin comes back in and wakes me up with breakfast in bed!! He brought me a huge plate of pancakes and cold glass of milk. I got to lay in bed, eat pancakes, and read a magazine for 45 minutes. It was bliss! Then, to make things better, when I got up to shower, Kevin had separated the laundry (which he has since taken down to the wash), cleaned up the kitchen, and picked up the living room.
Ahh...it makes me happy again just thinking about it.
Well, just wanted to brag on my fantastically thoughtful husband. Also, if anyone out there has any thoughts about Cameron's little little sleeping strike, let me know.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Who am I?
Well, after a 2 month hiatus, I figured it was time to write again. Little Cameron turned 7 weeks old on Wednesday. Sometimes I feel like we just brought him home from the hospital. And other times I feel like it has been the longest 7 weeks of my entire life. I am amazed that I love this Little Man so much...and yet sometimes want to throw him out the window. I can't imagine life without him...yet sometimes miss the ease of our old life so much it makes me want to cry. I sit in our living room feeding him at 4:00 a.m. and wonder if I'll ever have a full night of sleep again in this lifetime. Yet I know that before long he won't let me rock him to sleep anymore. The most sleep I get at any one time is 3 hours...and I have only been out of the house without him 3 times in the last 7 weeks. I'm tired.
My house is a disaster. The laundry is about to take over the living room. I have dust bunnies bigger then Cameron. Days pass before I find time to call people back or respond to email. My once impeccably organized life is in complete disarray. I am reduced to considering a day that includes a shower and some make-up a success. I hardly recognize myself or my life. Who am I and how exactly did I get here?
This is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever done.
But could he be any more beautiful? Could he smell any sweeter? I love kissing his little neck, and his crooked little toes. I love the hilariously adorable little frowny face he makes right before he starts crying. I live for bathtime, watching him suck air through pursed lips as we lower him into the warm water, and then relax as he remembers how much he loves the bath. I can hardly wait for that first smile that will suddenly make so many late nights worth it. I love sitting here on the couch right now and looking over at Kevin, feet propped up on the coffee table watching basketball, Cameron swaddled up like a little bundle asleep (finally!) on his chest. I fall in love with my husband over and over again every day.
Through it all -- the sleepless nights and erractic schedule; the interrupted meals and sore back; the fatigue and frustration; the days of being sucked on, spit up on, peed on, sneezed on, and generally covered with baby yuck; the feeling that I hardly recognize myself -- I am overwhelmingly grateful for this Little One's presence in our lives. He is a miracle. I pray that I never forget that.
My house is a disaster. The laundry is about to take over the living room. I have dust bunnies bigger then Cameron. Days pass before I find time to call people back or respond to email. My once impeccably organized life is in complete disarray. I am reduced to considering a day that includes a shower and some make-up a success. I hardly recognize myself or my life. Who am I and how exactly did I get here?
This is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever done.
But could he be any more beautiful? Could he smell any sweeter? I love kissing his little neck, and his crooked little toes. I love the hilariously adorable little frowny face he makes right before he starts crying. I live for bathtime, watching him suck air through pursed lips as we lower him into the warm water, and then relax as he remembers how much he loves the bath. I can hardly wait for that first smile that will suddenly make so many late nights worth it. I love sitting here on the couch right now and looking over at Kevin, feet propped up on the coffee table watching basketball, Cameron swaddled up like a little bundle asleep (finally!) on his chest. I fall in love with my husband over and over again every day.
Through it all -- the sleepless nights and erractic schedule; the interrupted meals and sore back; the fatigue and frustration; the days of being sucked on, spit up on, peed on, sneezed on, and generally covered with baby yuck; the feeling that I hardly recognize myself -- I am overwhelmingly grateful for this Little One's presence in our lives. He is a miracle. I pray that I never forget that.
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