How fat your baby?

Your baby so fat she has a chin fold in her chin fold in her chin fold that still had vernix in it 19 days after she was born but you couldn't see it (the folds! THE FOLDS!!!) and now it's irritated and needs barrier cream on it.

Oops.

Places

Places/times my baby will sleep

• In her carseat
• In her pram
• In her aunties arms
• At a 31st birthday party (leaving almost 6 hours between feeds)
• With a boob in it when I accidentally fall asleep feeding her, even though she was wide awake when we started
• Anywhere when people are visiting / really want to see her

Places/times my baby won't sleep

• In her bassinet  between 9pm and midnight
• In her bassinet around 2am
• In my arms when I really want her settle
• In my husbands arms when he wants her to settle
• Anywhere when I'm in a position to have a nap

She better be having freakin' awesome dreams....

Owls

I ducked out to the shops the other day and picked up a few more baby onesies that cover hands and feets (so baby looks like a muppet) and a Lamaze toy so that we can make our baby smart:

I showed the husband when I got home, and he insisted that the toys to make baby smart were branded with owls. Illustrating some of our differences: the husband believes it was a maths game; I only remember chewing on coloured plastic owls.

Perspective

I was going to post about how my reality started to set in. About how for the next 12 months (give or take?!) I generally will not be away from the baby for more than two hours. How I'm going to be in the cycle of nap-feed-burp-change-feed-settle-nap repeat for another 335 nights or so and how it made my chest ache just thinking about it. About how I feel I need to do more around the house, how I don't have nice things to wear, no holidays on the horizon, and only have the husband around to help me for another week. About the headsplitting headache I'd carried for 24 hours, the pockets of 90 minute sleep I'd been grabbed and how that just wasn't working, the squint in my eyes and stuffy nose that might or might not be a headcold.

About how I felt when returning from the shops and could hear the baby crying through the open window and I knew it was going to be cold inside and it was a miserable day and one of my dogs was acting like she hated me and why couldn't I find that receipt when I looked in the filing cabinet three times but the husband found it straight away.

About how I knew the first thing I would need to do when I got inside was sit down and try to settle that baby, reason with someone who can't reason, shift and shuffle and shoosh her in to some form of peace.

And then the news spread that two wonderful women who were due in July, women who I've been in contact with since discovering I was pregnant, had both lost their babies. One slipped away during childbirth, one about to be induced. Two in twenty four hours. Two who were experiencing something that I hadn't even considered once we'd passed that 12 week mark, that 20 week scan, even during  labour.

It puts it all in to perspective, really.

It's time to be thankful for the 'burdens' we bear.

Next day out

Monday afternoon, baby and I ventured out together, alone, for the first time - I promised my workmates I would visit 'some time between 2 and 4:30'.

We got out of bed at 3:00.

I did have success with the drive. I remember the drive home from hospital was crazy stressful - both the husband and I were hyper aware about everyone else on the road, every corner, every bump. I very nearly jumped out of the car at the traffic lights to look to make sure she was okay, but managed to resist. Comparatively, my drive was easy going... although I noticed I no longer had the need to try to beat my 7-minute record. Or 'win' at all the roundabouts. Or faff around with the lack of choice of CD's in the husbands car.

I did not have success with the stroller. I parked in a quiet part of the shopping centre carpark so that I could take my time to work out how to unfold the thing - I knew there was a high chance I'd get it wrong and then lose. my. shit.

But I guess the fact that I couldn't open the freaking thing AND I didn't totally crack it is a success in itself. Although I gotta admit, I don't like presenting myself as the frazzled woman who pulls in to a shopping centre, spends five minutes trying to unfold a pram, calls home to tell her husband "I'm. not. an. idiot. I. AM. pressing. the. GRAY. button." tries again for another five minutes, then drives back out of the carpark.

If I had not promised people that I would come in and see them, I'm pretty sure I would have experienced a pretty fantastic release of those post baby blues.

And I think they picked up pretty quickly that I was not cheery-chirpy, based on the jibing I got about my baby having a full vocab of swear words by the time she is one.

You'll be pleased to know I got 'taught' how to use the stroller that night, in a relatively unpatronising manner (there are three gray buttons on the stroller, but of course I can not for the life of me find the one that I was pressing to demonstrate to the husband), so I'll be trying to hit up the DFO later this week to expand my wardrobe of track pants and schleppy jumpers.

Drugs are great

I hit up the chemist today to see what I could get my hands on for my baby dragon.

The baby witching hour usually starts around 7pm (or from 4pm onwards!) and finishes around 10pm - my baby kicks off at 9pm until midnight. Perhaps it's got to do with the fact that we don't get out of bed until 12 o'clock most days? Like heck I'll be getting up four hours earlier so she can screech at me four hours earlier each night....

Tonight I doped her up on some colic relief liquid - I don't think it's actually colic, but the chemist said it would help her if she has a tummy ache. I don't know that it made any difference because I don't really know my baby well enough to have any idea about her patterns/likes/triggers - seriously, she will just be smiley then sulky then she will screech for twenty minutes then she'll nap then she'll wake up and start over. But I do know that when she burped in my face tonight, it smelt like berries. So that was worth the $13.

To a point

As well as inheriting my grown up face chubby cheeks and chin(s), my baby has inherited some awesome noisemaking skill. More than once I've heard a little something-something and looked to the husband for a guilty face, only to find out it was in fact the baby.

She was delighting me after dinner tonight, being the adorable and animated thing that she is after 9pm, tooting up a storm. Like full on, man volume, baby farts.

Cue the moment when you realise that you baby has just sharted out the side of her nappy and all over your trackpants.

In the newfound optimistic fashion that I have adopted (only other option = cry) I was pleased she had actually produced something, having been a bit 'dry' since she squirted shit all over my pyjamas, the washing hamper, the change table, the plastic floor mat (thank god) and some of the wall yesterday morning.

Babies! Yay!

Must have

I have no idea how new mums managed to stay awake before the age of iPhone/Facebook/Words with Friends... it's so handy to have something within arms reach that requires constant checking in so that I can stay awake, but doesn't screech at you at random intervals to the point where it's little belly turns blue.

(Even though it's hard to come up with words when your eyes are so tired they do that involuntary side-to-side flicking thing and you can't think of anything more advanced than 'nap' or 'bed'.)

Game time

Once I found out I was pregnant (another story for another time?) I signed up to a forum and subscribed to a few different newsletters, so each week I'd be sent a 'your baby is as big as an <insert fruit here> and weighs as much as an <insert random household item here>' email.

I received one yesterday that included suggestions for games to play with my baby. This follows along the lines of the 'feed-play-sleep' routine that I had never heard of until we were visited by the community nurse, but is apparently the thing that you are meant to do with your baby all day. Whoops.

You've got to give them points for trying - there's only so much you can do with a tiny person that sleeps roughly 20 hours out of every day (with more than half of that occurring between 1am and 6am {oh yeah, awesome}), who has no limb (or bladder/bowel) control, and no sense of what might actually be fun. Like Bop It! (Although, to be fair, I kick ass at that game, and because she's my daughter she would totally hate losing so she wouldn't find it fun.)

Do you want to play like a 2 week old baby? It's the weekend, guys, lash out! Why not try 'What a Sensation!' - get someone to lift up your shirt and drag a bunch of different stuff across your belly while coo-ing 'Feel the blanket? It's so soft!' and 'Feel the spoon? It's so cold!'.

So, consider this a call-out for suggestions of things I should rub on my baby's belly.

Belly button

Obviously, a whole lot of attention is paid to the 'distinctly female' parts of the body during pregnancy/childbirth, but there's a lot to be said for a bellybutton.

When I went with a friend to get my navel pierced (quite a few years ago!), I warned the man with the gun that I had one of the deepest bellybuttons he'd have seen. "You're right", he said, "it is quite deep".

Do me a favour and  look at your little finger. My bellybutton would hold the top knuckle of your little finger, pretty much guaranteed.

So, I was naturally curious as to what would happen to my poor little void while I was cooking a baby. First thing? It got wide. Like, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had taught itself how to smile, that's how mouthy it got. Unfortunately, this meant that even halfway through the pregnancy I just looked gutsy, as I always had  a big smiley bellybutton hole showing through whatever I was wearing.

Next thing, it started heading north. I was able to get a better look into it as it seemed to climb up my belly as it grew outward. This also coincided with an opening up, not unlike some crazy and totally unsexy flower - although the only way I could tell was that the teeny-tiny mole that normally resided just in the shadows started crawling towards my left side.

At the stage where lots of pregnant women start getting complements on how their bellybutton has popped and isn't that adorable, I did manage to get some protrusion going. Unfortunately for me, it was the bit of skin that was between the two piercing holes - but fortunately for me, it just gave the illusion that I must have had the worlds most adorable little button.

Immediately post baby, I couldn't believe how far away my belly button had dropped. Granted, my stomach muscles were separated by more than a hand span distance, so there was nothing holding it up, but it was bizarre that he (in my head, it's a 'him') was now so far away.

At the moment, it's not doing too poorly. I do think that flaccid is actually an accurate description of how it looks - a little sad, a little flopsy, but with potential.

Who would have through a little tummy dimple would go through so much?

Out and about

Today we headed out to get baby weighed and hopped over the road for a wander through the shops.

It was the first time for me pushing the pram, and I found it a little funny how awkward I felt.

I mean, in only two weeks I seem to have become comfortable enough detailing my dilation to anyone and everyone - not to mention the fact that there was a cast of medical staff who were treated to a view of everything I have (from various angles) during my hospital stay... but walking through a shopping centre with two hands on a stroller handle? Somehow that's just awkward.

Ring

I managed to get my wedding ring back on today - the first time in a few months where I've been able to do so without a sense of panic that it was going to get stuck and I would have to get it cut off before my finger swells up in to a purple balloon.

In my head, I'm now visibly a untakeable woman again. Like the uniform of track pants and a baggy jumper, a wriggly baby in one arm and general aroma of nappy cream and people milk weren't enough of a giveaway.

Feeding can be fun!

"You know what I'm going to do? I'm going over there and I'm going to stick my boob in the babies mouth! Take that, baby!".

... perhaps you need the sleep deprivation? Or the sense of humour of a nine year old? But I still think it's funny.

Tears

You get warned pretty early on about the hormones that come with pregnancy. I mean, there's all sorts of weird stuff that can happen ("you're trying to tell me I could leak milk when a baby cries when I'm only like 14 weeks pregnant?!"), but all the websites and books are up on the tears. Did you know that chemically, a new mum is likely to spend the fourth day of her babies life in tears?

I've always been partial to getting teary eyed whenever I hear someone sing. It doesn't have to be good singing, just being able to see someone really giving it their best, and I'm done for.

But during pregnancy, not too much changed. I mean, I teared up watching Bondi Vet, but I do that a lot normally. I teared up in a few of the MasterChef eliminations but that's because I get fond of sweet people. I teared up when I read that one of the admin girls called me 'sweetheart' in my birthday card, but that's because come on, how sweet?!

I really cried when I was 10 weeks pregnant and had to give myself my first blood thinning needle and it hurt and we had people coming for dinner in an hour and no food in the messy house and I was hungry and didn't know what I wanted.

I really cried when I was 20 weeks pregnant and listening to Bon Iver on my drive home from work. And again at 25 weeks while listening to the same CD on the same drive. You'd think I would have learnt my lesson after the first time, but instead I repeated the process, letting all the tears fall on the steering wheel and down the front of my singlet, parked out the front of the house rather than in the carport so that the dogs wouldn't see me and get upset too.

Since the arrival of baby, I've not yet hit that point. I shed half a tear on our worst night yet as I apologised to my husband for seducing him in to having a baby. I shed half a tear when I stuffed up my pancake that I'd been thinking about since 10am and it was almost 3pm and I hadn't eaten anything and when would I remember that I need to halve all of the ingredients in my recipe so that I don't end up with sticky glue paste in a scanpan. And I shed half a tear when I checked up on the baby five minutes after putting her down  and saw I hadn't wrapped her tightly enough and she'd wriggled an arm free and got her blanket half over her head. Cue negligent parent freakout and a moment of standing in shocked silence after the immediate 'ohmygod' and rewrap.

Fingers crossed that's as bad as I get.

Google what?

We run a media PC as our TV - basically, the husband has hooked a computer up to the television in the lounge room.

This is awesome for quickly getting on to the internet for a sneaky google, but not so for others who jump on and cop an eyeful of my search history over the last nine months or so...

Hours

You wouldn't think that getting three separate two hour chunks of sleep, followed by a three hour stint, would be worthy of celebration.

But seriously, you guys? Let's get a f*cking parade started. It feels fantastic.

In all honesty

Fourth night out of hospital, fourth night without sleep between midnight and 6am, fourth hour of our ninth day as a family.

"Our baby is a dickhead."

Smug

There's something nice about having lost just over 10kg in a week.

Granted, a third of it was an actual living thing, plus a buttload of blood and all sorts of other crazy stuff, but it still lets you bask in the glow of the smug while you sit in your track pants and eat half a box of BBQ shape biscuits while watching an episode of Harry's Practice from 1998.

"You'll just know"

Our baby was born at just after 5:30 on a Thursday evening. She was held, introduced to family, then fed twice before I was led back to our room to be left for the night, close to 11pm.

"How will I know when to feed her?" I asked.
"Oh, she'll let you know".
"But how?"
"You'll just know."

I didn't.
It got to 5am and she had hardly stirred and I hadn't done another thing with her.

The nurse came in to check up on us as the shift changed.
I had hardly slept because every single noise she made was new to me - what did that mean? Did she want something? What do I do? When will I sleep? Would it be wrong to chow in to that bag of crackers? Is she hungry too? How will I know?

"She hasn't let me know that she's hungry, it's been six hours."

She was hungry, but she never let me know.

You just have to accept that you won't always know.