The Haze of Newborn Days
He’s 2 weeks old now. 15 days, to be exact.
My house is messy… my schedule and lists are out the window… getting the simplest things done takes much time and discipline. Seeking the Lord first is a challenge that requires grace in a whole new context.
Baby cries, sleeps, eats, and fills his diaper. He holds onto my fingers, recognizes me when I walk into the room, and is not content unless I’m holding him.
He almost smiled at his daddy last night. His actual smiles are still reflexes, but they’re adorable and I can’t wait until they’re real.
We’re making it one day at a time. He’s such a precious gift.
Long (birth) story short
My mom is holding Christian right now. She’s been here since a few hours after he was born. She stayed with me in the hospital, and it’s been such a blessing having her here!
I love my little son! Becoming a mother has been an amazing experience. It will take me awhile to begin to put it into words.
I’m working on the long version of Christian’s birth story. I’m planning to post a blog-friendly version here when I finish it. But I wanted to post the abridged version now since that may not be for a few days.
I went into labor on my own – yay! – starting Monday afternoon. I was having regular contractions all afternoon and evening, and they were growing consistently stronger and closer together. We called the hospital and they told us to come in around 9. I progressed very slowly and very painfully until around 2:30, when I was given an epidural (l-o-v-e). Once I had the epidural, my contractions started to slow down a little, so they gave me Pitocin to augment my labor (which I was fine with since I knew Christian had started coming on his own and was ready to be born). We rested until about 8:15 that morning, when I began pushing. After just over an hour of pushing, Christian was born at 9:30, healthy and alert. My husband was a wonderful coach and support throughout the whole thing. I feel like we did it together. I don’t know what I would have done without him.
I’m recovering really well, and of course losing lots of sleep. I got six hours last night, the most I’ve had since he was born, and I feel a-m-a-z-i-n-g! He’s getting adjusted to life and I’m starting to try to get him into a routine – which means he’s waking every two or three hours to eat instead of every hour. Quite the relief.
There’s a mini-update! Thank you for all of your sweet thoughts, prayers, and congratulations – they are so kind.
the sunset of pregnancy [part 2]
Dear Baby,
Please come. We are all ready to meet you.
Love,
Mama
I had planned on writing a more meditative post, but I’m keeping it short and sweet. Again, check my Twitter for updates (or if you know me in real life, my Facebook status – my tweets are forwarded there). Not because I plan on tweeting through labor! But it should get updated before I’m able to post here.
Stork Parking
I never gave much thought to stork parking before I was pregnant. A few businesses have it – special parking spaces designated for expectant mothers. I saw a couple of blog posts about it and thought I would share my own opinion, since I’m about to leave for Walmart and all.
Is it really necessary? No. I think it’s meant to be a courtesy, and it’s a nice thought. I have used it at Babies ‘R’ Us because there are always open spots. And let me tell you, I would appreciate it when I’m pushing a full cart of groceries halfway across the parking lot. Especially if I lived in one of the northern states where it’s icy. I would also have appreciated it back when I was sick to my stomach 24/7.
But truly, I think courtesy parking spots (other than handicapped, obviously) should be for customers with young children, or (bonus!) pregnant women with small children. For most pregnant women (and there are exceptions, of course; I don’t have any complications), it’s a lot easier to walk across a parking lot, even at 40+ weeks, than it is to unload one or more small children and take them into the store safely.
So. My $.02. What do you think?
the sunset of pregnancy [part 1]
(My final thoughts and ponderings leading up to the end of my first pregnancy. Part 2 will follow… if it’s not replaced by a birth story!)
I resonate with these words I’m about to quote. They describe a reality I’ve experienced, but had never expressed.
Do they make pregnancy seem ethereal and romantic? A little. Pregnancy is firmly rooted in the prosaic. In backaches and throwing up. In swelling and doctor’s appointments. In weight gain and nursery planning. In fleece blankets and tiny socks. In carseats and cribs.
But just like in the rest of life, the prosaic is merely a veil for the miraculous. Yes, I just interrupted the writing of this post to go to the bathroom for the 134th time today. Yet there is a new life mysteriously united with mine. Just the way we all began. How can anyone say there is no mystery or miracle in life? How can anyone be a nihilist? The beginning of human life is a fragile, powerful creation.
There is something lonely about pregnancy that can not be assuaged. I felt this from the very beginning and sort of expected it to go away with time. It has not and possibly will not.
It’s as if a pregnant woman enters this new realm of spiritual mystery, a water that must be traveled alone. For some reason I picture the underground lake from the Phantom of The Opera.
It is traveled alone because there is no other way. I don’t think our human minds or hearts can hold what it means to give birth to a life. We cannot fathom such a miracle, and the mother who carries the child cannot speak of the depth she experiences, simply because she does not have the words.
In the middle of the night, wide awake, I stare at the pack and play in our room where the new baby will sleep very soon. I walk over to it and push the button that turns on its nightlight. I touch the fabric where we will soon lay our son or daughter. And I hear the hum. The constant hum that Debra writes about. She says,
“One indisputable truth about pregnancy is that once the baby is in there, it must come out somehow. The end is near, the end is real. The only way out is through.”
I am afraid of the birth itself, I would be a fool not to be. But more than that, I tremble at the enormity of experiencing life on this level. Experiencing the Creator on this level. How is it that He gives us such a taste of something so far beyond our current capacity? I have not yet seen this child’s face, and already I am overwhelmed with awe.
-Alli Rogers, Afraid
Ready or not… but I think I’m ready.
I’m starting to get bored.
I’ve been blessed to be able to stay at home over the past few months. I officially stopped working about a month ago, which actually gave me a lot more time in my day. I would be gone for about 3 1/2 hours, usually, which is a big chunk out of the middle of the day and gave me some structure.
So far, this past month, I’ve been able to keep pretty busy. I’ve enjoyed relaxing, but I feel guilty unless I am somewhat productive. And the only reason I could enjoy the past few weeks is because I know it’s a very short season!
I know I should enjoy every restful moment, but I think I’m done. I do my daily cleaning, I cook dinner, I work on my little to-do list, but I am ready for the purposefulness of being a stay-at-home mom.
And beyond that, I am so ready to be done being pregnant, and to meet my baby! Labor is a small price to pay.
