Bottle

There are times, like tonight, where I wish my baby was bottle fed, just so I could slam 2-3 cruisers and coast through the whinge (when I know she's fed, clean and warm and just wants to be held).

Tongue

Sometimes when I look at my baby's tiny milky tongue, I have to fight hard to resist the urge to scrape it with a teaspoon...

Baby Monitor

The baby monitor was the first baby-related thing that I bought once I was pregnant - it was massively discounted. We weren't sure whether the baby would sleep in our room, or the nursery, but wanted the monitor for whenever she was in her own room (still not sure when that will happen).

I tested the monitor out this morning, putting the monitor in the bassinet above her head in the bedroom, while I headed out to the kitchen to feed myself, the dogs and the birds.

It's noise activated, and it wasn't more than a few minutes before she started her usual groaning/moaning/gassy routine which clicked on the monitor - baby was flipping me off.

How handy to have.

Off and away

My parents told me about the first time they left me with someone else to go to a movie, and nearly changed their minds before they even got to the theatre. There may also have been tears.

 So, I was curious about how I would feel being away from baby.

Whilst technically yesterday was the first time she was babysat/away from both of us, in my mind it is more markedly the first time I wasn't with her, and she wasn't with the husband.

The first thing I noticed was how quickly I was out of the car and ready to go - normally I leave the keys in so the music keeps playing for her as I set up the pram and the nappy bag and my phone/wallet/water.

The second thing I noticed was that I found myself thinking that the baby would have enjoyed the movie - this is stupid on so many levels because she hasn't seen the earlier movies (as well as the fact she doesn't really 'enjoy' anything, and would have probably carried on the whole time.

The third thing I noticed was that we were quite quick to go straight to the car to pick her up, without really talking/making a conscious decision to do so. No dawdling or talking about heading out for dinner.

No tears.

I don't think we'll have any problems doing it again - though I wonder what we would have talked about if we went to dinner?

Hullo Harry!

We did!!

Baby did half a feed at 9:30, had a bath, the other half of feed at 10:30, then didn't feed again until 3:30! I was so prepared to be woken up quickly that when the husband came in to go to bed at 1:00 I called out "I'm feeding her...". He looked at me, saw her in her bassinet (asleep) and asked what I said - when I repeated it he said "no, you're not, she's in bed...". I remember laying on my back, patting my belly and around the bed to see where she was because I was sure I was feeding her, that he had come in to the room because he heard her calling for a feed and I hadn't.... craziness.

But. We FINALLY made it out to the movies!

Baby went to the husbands parent's house just after 3pm and slept for a few hours before a bottle feed at around 5:30. Apparently, she was then adorable until we got there, close to 7pm.

Of course, as soon as we arrived and took over, she started crying.

And then after the husband's mum got her settled and we got her in the car, she cried at home.

And cried while I played music to her (but stopped when the husband started dancing for her).

And cried while I changed her (but stopped when the husband took her).

And cried after I dressed her (but stopped while I bathed her - she's mad for the bath).

And cried while/after I fed her again (but stopped when the husband held on to her, after I wrapped her).

I'm trying not to take it personally, but really...

Checking in and out

Thursday morning I had a 'development check' appointment, booked in at the clinic. I wasn't sure when I booked it or what it was for exactly, but off we went.

Turns out, it was actually a check for me!

They ran through the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale, based on how I had been feeling over the past 7 days - I only scored 3/30, so it seems I did okay. Then they gave baby the quick once over - she is now in the 50th percentile for her height and head circumference (the same as when she was born) but she has packed on almost 2kg so her weight has jumped from the 25th percentile to the 75th! The nurse also said she had lovely colour and her skin was looking great. She did question whether she favours looking to one side over the other when she is on her back, so I'm going to try to keep her balanced out - I've heard of babies having neck problems that need physio to correct.

After that appointment I did some fathers days shopping, had lunch with a work friend, registered baby on my Medicare card and then tried to sort out updating the microchip details for both of our dogs - we were out of the house from 10am - 4:30, and she only had two short feeds during that time (in the baby change rooms of the shopping centre, in the little curtained rooms {both times I had random kids come stick their heads behind the curtains and stare at me}). We came home, she had a feed, and then we headed to the husbands parents house for diner for a few hours, and she was well and truly over it all once we got her in to the car for the drive home. She had a feed on the hour for the next three hours and then BAM. Slept from 11:00 - 5:30.

I might have got a 5 hour block of sleep, although the husband was asking me something or other at midnight and woke me, and I woke up around 1:30 a little confused as to why I wasn't up and feeding her.

Of course, after her 5:30 feed I was so wired and awake that I didn't get back to sleep until 7am and didn't really sleep properly, so I feel tireder today than I have all week.

She's been sleeping for a few hours now, but I'm hoping that after a feed, a bath, and another feed we will get another proper sleep out of her.

I bet we don't!

T2

Do  I qualify for the T2 transit lane with baby in the car?

Park day

The weather was beautiful here again today - I think it maxxed out at around 20 degrees. I managed three loads of washing, the parent payment paperwork, worked out how to update the microchip details on our dogs and enrolled in a mothers group.

I thought it was quite odd that I 'couldn't get in' to a session until October, and it runs for four weeks... I'd thought it was just a bunch of mothers sitting around, I didn't realise you only get a limited run...?!

Then, because it was so lovely out, I figured it might be nice to take the dogs and baby to the dog park.

Big mistake.

She whinged the whole 45 minutes we were there, before it turned in to screaming. Because only one of our dogs is marginally behaved, I had her and the baby in the car before I went back to get the other dog, by which time she was crying so hard she was noiseless. Then, once we were home, another 50 minutes of screaming kicked off before a combination of baby panadol, some burping/spitting and Paul Simon's 'Graceland' on full ball calmed her enough that she fell in to a cycle of glaring at me, microsleeping, and making those whimpering noises you make after a really big crying session.

She's just had a bath and is on round two of her tears, so I'm going to jam a boob in to her again to try to calm her down.

Damn those immunisations - apparently this behaviour can last for up to a week.

Take leave

I worked out about a week ago that if I wanted to go out, I could actually wake the baby up/feed her before she actually asks for it, so that I have a bigger window of baby-free time.

Durr.

This is what baby brain is. Anyone else would have worked that out pretty much as soon as they finished squeezing her out...

Needles

Baby had her 6 week needles today.

Urgh.

We kicked off at around 11am today, and she spent the next 3.5 hours being clingy and whingey, making it very difficult to get anything done, let alone get dressed and out the door. She quietened down in the car, but then kicked off again as soon as we stopped, so I was the wild eyed woman wheeling a screeching stroller through the carpark. This meant I was quite flustered by the time we got to the front desk, which the desklady interpreted as me being stressed about baby getting needles, rather than me being stressed about baby being overly whingey, and tried to calm me down and explain it would all be fine.

For what it's worth, I worked out that whistling and clapping and telling baby to stop crying will not stop baby from crying, but imitating her crying will get her to pause for a bit.

Of course, as soon as we were in the medical room with the nurse, she was all bright pretty eyes and happy coo-ing. My plan of having her associate whinging all day with needles (and therefore happy laughing all day and no needles) fell over - as they jabbed her in the thigh she went from happy to shocked to angry to so distraught that her crying made no actual noise. And then they got her again.

I mentioned we'd got a few tears before, but she at least doubled her total this afternoon. When I held her afterwards, my cheek was wet from her tears.

Now we just have a week or so of potential high temperatures, moodiness and squirty poo to soldier through.

Time

It is hard being tired - I'm not going to complain about it, because that's a given. And I'm not so bad, because if I don't have something on, I'll sleep on and off until midday or so.

But it's kind of lose/lose.

I worry that by sleeping half the day, I'm depriving the baby of learning time. Don't get me wrong, after feeding/changing/feeding, we do often lay in bed and chat, or I read to her, or play with toys with her if she's still awake - but as the room is warm and quiet, and I feed her laying down, she'll more often than not go back to sleep too. So I feel bad that I'm kind of encouraging her to be lazy so I can sleep.

If I wake up earlier, I'm less patient. I try to get her to hurry back to sleep after feeds so that I have time to get stuff done - like the dishes, another load of washing, vaccuming, groceries etc. So I feel bad that I'm kind of encouraging her to be lazy so I can do other things.

We spend a LOT of time together. But how much of it is quality, like REAL quality, time?

What SHOULD I be doing?

Lights on

I track the times that the baby feeds, poops and (sometimes sleeps) using this baby log:

It's helpful for remembering what side we fed on last, to minimise getting mixed up and leaking everywhere/mastitis. It's helpful for counting dirty nappies to make sure she's healthy (6-8 minimum a day!). It's helpful when she's screeching so I can check the time she last fed to see if it's a hunger squawk. It also has the bonus ability to tell me when the baby's in the bed.

I don't flick that night light on until I'm standing up to physically lift the baby from the bassinet, and I don't turn it off until I'm on my way back in to bed after feeding her and she's settled back in the bassinet.

I've lost count of the number of times I've woken up, freaked out, patting around the bed for baby. Or hearing her and wondering how long it will take for her to settle so I can sleep, only to realise I already put her back. I've even woken up telling the husband I thought I'd already got her and was feeding her.

I wasn't expecting to use it that way, but it's definitely one of the most useful things I've bought for baby!

Win

I typed up last nights post in the middle of a two and a half hour feeding stint.

TWO. AND. A. HALF. HOURS.

We came home from the husband's family tea - she was showing them the same unsettled version of herself that I had the pleasure of lugging around the house for the past two days. I sat down to feed her and all would be temporarily well, until she'd decided enough was enough and would pull away and scrunch up her face until I burped her and off we went again. Then she'd sit back happily for 30 seconds, then start screeching and would furiously suck on my finger when I 'tested' her. Then we did that for another two hours.

When it got to midnight I took a break so I could shower, because really, she showed no signs of slowing down. And as soon as she was in the husbands arms? BAM. Straight to sleep. And smiling every so often, just to rub it in.

By the time I got out of the shower and in to bed, she was awake and squawky again, but a ten minute feed sorted her out.

AND THEN SHE SLEPT FOR FIVE HOURS.

You guys - 4.5 hours sleep? For the first time in months? I don't think I've EVER felt that awake at 5:30 in the morning.

To think I used to get 8 - 10 hours sleep and still feel totally wrecked...!

Keep weighting!

Another fortnight, another weigh in, another 485g increase. Chubba bubba.

We had a pediatrician appointment yesterday, and he said we are doing exceptionally well with feeding. Baby has grown 6cm longer, increased her head diameter by 3cm and put on 1.66kg since she was born.

He commented that she had big eyes (now I'm like "are they too big?!") and when I commented they were her father's eyes and my cheek/chins, he responded that all babies should have those chubby cheeks. Note, he didn't say anything about her chins...

Seemingly, all else is fine. She liked looking at the light he tested her eyes with (again, he commented on that, so again, abnormally so?!) and she was happy up until the point he pushed down in to her hip joints - then she looked baffled, and then she sounded outraged.

He asked if she'd smiled yet and I responded that she might have - that morning, I could see her physically labouring as she brought each side of her mouth up in to a smile, like a robot. She hasn't done it since though.

He also did two sort of flicking motions near her head while he was checking her, but now that I think about it, he might have been getting dog hair off her. Nice work, us.

He then started to talk about introducing solids, but he had to rush through it as she didn't stop being outraged at the hip test until we were more than halfway home. Which is the same point that I realised I'd forgotten to ask about the one thing I was meant to ask (we noticed a purple-red mark at the base of her mullet on the weekend - we hadn't seen it before). I wonder how long this baby brain lasts?

Daughter

I was commenting on another blog and referred to the change in my bellybutton ring scar since the birth of my daughter.

My daughter.

That's the first time I've used that, or thought of baby that way.

She's always just been 'my baby' or 'the baby' or 'baby (name)'.

I'm my mother's daughter - it's so funny to think that I have one, or that there is one that is mine.

Wild about Harry

On the one hand, it's a bit of a pain (literally!) to be woken up at 3:30 to feed the baby, only to have her refuse half of the feed, and only make a half hearted attempt on that same side at her next feed too.

On the other, it means I might be able to express enough to be able to see Harry Potter before it finishes at the movies.

They recommend looking at your baby, or a picture of your baby, or thinking about your baby, while you pump to help with the flow.

I think I've found my motivation...

MCN

We decided quite early in to the pregnancy that we wanted to try modern cloth nappies (MCNs) on our baby.

So far, we're yet to use them without wee leakage, so we're still mostly using disposables. Not only is it annoying to have to keep finding/washing onesies when she's soaked through one, she has a special cry she reserves for only when we change her out of an MCN - it is the only cry she has that actually makes as sad (rather than wanting to mock her).

Whirring

I never would have expected that a quick realisation (the whirring of the exhaust fan in the shower sounds similar to the patterns of my baby's crying!) would be enough to bring on the leakage.

It's like my boobs are thinking faster than my brain.

Slang

Yesterday, after (finally) getting out of bed, I slung the baby in to the husband's Baby Bjorn and carried her around the house while I tidied up (thanks to the feedback on an earlier post!).

This is a good thing.

I'm going to be able to get more done.
I'm going to be able to get  for a walk in the sun.
I'm going to be able to get off the couch/bed and break up the days/weeks/months.

Shapes

My first shower at home after getting out of hospital was the first time I got a look at how my shape had changed - I was a bit shocked to see a mum's body in the mirror.

My hips are wider. My old jeans fit everywhere except for the vital part where I need them to actually do up. I like to think that it's because I've hung on to the semblance of a butt that came with being pregnant due to my spine curving, but it's also going to be the extra 5kg I'm still carrying. 

I'm paunchier. Again, five kilos extra. But also, my stomach muscles separated and are working their way back together and my belly button is on it's way home. I take solace in the way that I'm not muffin topping as much as I have when I've been heavier in the past.

My stomach, which I proudly oiled and moisturised twice a day until the day before baby was born, still sports the stretchmarks that popped up from around April. I haven't done anything about them since she was born, almost out of anger that I treated my stomach so well and it still betrayed me that way.

My nails are longer and stronger than they were. Awesome for scratching, not so awesome when changing a dirty nappy.

My hair is thicker - you can trace the duration of my pregnancy by how the thicker hair has grown out, then tapers off.

Funnily, I've had to take out one of my earrings because it hurt when I slept on it and I think my ears were somehow retaining fluid.

I wonder how it will change over the next twelve months.

Stubborn

Last night, baby didn't settle for longer than 10 minutes until after 1am. That's over 6 hours without proper sleep.

Six hours of awake time, and somewhere between 1/4 and 1/2 of that was spent with her crying. When she wasn't crying, she was staring at us. Or half closing her eyes. Or closing them and then peeking at us to make sure we were still there and not doing something fun and awesome like cooking dinner or packing the dishwasher or having a shower.

Though I have to laugh when she stubbornly multitasks feeding and crying at the same time - it stirs up the mental image of Geri Halliwell rooting around in George Michael's bin for chocolate cake all those years ago.... sob sob sob *nom nom nom* sob *nom*....

Work It

This week has been the husband's first week back at work - I was very lucky that he was able to take four and a half weeks off work.

Monday went well - I got up around 9 and we headed out to do some groceries - I wasn't sure how the baby would go, because if she isn't in my arms or asleep then she is usually cracking it, but she had a delightful time sitting in the baby seat of the trolley. We also went to the chemist (to get ear plugs for the husband so that we can all continue to stay in the one room together at night) and the shop assistant thought she was a boy - I told her she just looked like a boy in her tracksuit. I managed to do some washing and tidying and had finally got her down at 7pm when the husband got home.

Yesterday I went to a work friends house just after lunch - she meets up with a group of mothers from their prenatal yoga class each Tuesday. It was pretty amazing to suss out these giant babies (born from January onwards) - not only how much bigger they were, but also how much more interaction (smiles and laughs!) and development (laying by themselves! self settling for naps! holding heads up!) there was. I had a friend come over for a few hours after that and then there was three hours of awake/whinge time. Not so awesome.

Today I finished off the chores and felt pretty great, having got her to start waiting four hours on average between feeds (*knocks wood*). However, at 7pm she kicked off her crying/awake time - it's 11:30 and she's definitely overtired, and definitely staying awake.

The hardest part so far is that the husband finishes work on the later side, and has had sport on two of the three nights this week so far, so he's only able to duck in and then duck out - and both nights she's only just settled before he gets home so dinner is nowhere near ready, and then she cracks it not long after he gets home, so the only time he sees her she's being feral, and he's tired from work and sport and late dinner and squawking baby soundtrack.

Hopefully the rest of the week/next week we can get more in to a rhythm - I don't want the husband to feel like he needs to change his routine, but then I don't know how 'fun' it will be if she's planning on keeping this sort of thing up in the longer term.

*tear*

Baby had her first tear yesterday, so I tried to capture a picture of it to show the husband (did you know babies don't have tear ducts for like the first four weeks?).

I forgot about it until I was trying to capture one of her happier moments this afternoon and couldn't remember why I would have taken so many closeup and blurry pictures of my obviously distressed newborn, rather than, you know, trying to comfort her.

(I deleted them).

She got me back anyway by showing me more of her tears while I was singing along to sappy music to try to get her to sleep: baby tears + James Taylor = mummy tears.

Don't take me out

How did dinner go? It didn't.

Baby slept for 4.5 hours that afternoon, waking for a feed at 5:30pm. Which would have been fine except we weren't ready for dinner yet, hadn't fed the dogs, and didn't know if the place we wanted to go out to would have a table free without a reservation (we had no idea what time we would be finished with feeding and have finished dropping the baby off with the husbands mum).

The tears started at 6pm. She wasn't cold, she didn't need a change and she didn't want to feed anymore, based on her stubborn insistence at pulling her head away from me and beating me with tiny little fists and sharp little nails.

At 8pm, she finally latched on again. At 8:20 we made the decision to call the husband's parents and apologise for not bringing her around (in the knowledge that they had cancelled dinner plans for themselves so that they would be free to look after her) and ordered takeaway.

I calmed myself down on the drive over to get dinner, reasoning that perhaps I was feeling frustrated because I was just as worried about going out without her as I was disappointing about not going out without her.

At 8:45 I sat down with a plate of Thai food on my lap, a bacardi and lime in my right hand and a crying baby in my left.

At 9:00 she indicated she was hungry again, and she chugged the 70ml that I had expressed as a backup for the husband's parents while we were on our night out.

At 10:00 we finally got her take a dummy for the first time.

At 10:30 it fell out not long after we finally got her back in her bassinet.

At 11:40, 12:00, 12:30 and 1:30 she fed again.

I guess she showed us it might have been too early to plan a night out.

I might start planning ahead for Fathers Day dinner... we have a wedding to attend mid October, so she we need to get the hang of this soonish.

Dear Baby - Month #1

Dear baby,

A month ago today, I woke up at 7:15 and realised that this. was. it.

After I flicked on the bedroom light and declared it to be 'baby day', I remember your daddy asking me how I felt, and I could only respond 'nervous' (after first responding 'damp'). I didn't know what it was going to be like, and I'd really spent most of my pregnancy wondering how I would deal with the labour, leaving most thoughts of how I would actually deal with a baby in my too hard basket

In the kitchen, the night before you were born, I remember saying that I hoped it wasn't my last day as a pregnant woman, as I hasn't done anything but sit on the couch and nap. Your daddy didn't tell me until after you were born that he had a feeling that you would arrive the day that you did.

I remember a friend from school telling me that she could always remember the time that she was born, because her mum told her she arrived just before the evening news started. In my head, her mum was sat up  in a hospital bed watching the dinky room tv, and after a brief moment of discomfort (that my imagination had no equivalent for) she was holding a clean baby parcel and was able to settle back on her pillow, just in time to watch the news.

Not quite.

With a crescendo, you arrived just after 5:30. There was a moment that your daddy thought he would be delivering you himself, but luckily the staff returned just in time. I can't remember much of the pain, but I remember knowing when you decided it was time and that I wasn't ashamed to let my voice ring out in pain when they told me I had to stop pushing after 30 minutes of being told just to push, Push, PUSH. I remember that it was the first time I vomited in front of your father and I was very apologetic for that. And I remember feeling wicked drunk on the pethidine and making a conscious decision to let your daddy and the midwife do all the hard work for me when I decided I wanted to go to the bathroom.

I'd always feared that when they were about to put you on me as a gunky, slimy, foreign thing, my first instinct would be to pull away from you. In fact, as they started to lower you towards me, your daddy asked me if I wanted you wiped down more, just as I'd asked him to before labour even started. But I was happy to have you there. And it was the first time that I 'really' held a baby.

I remember looking at your daddy and saying 'we made a cute one!' (as well as 'she's not a ginger!'), but looking back at the photos now, I can see that you actually had a cone head and a cranky face and aren't anywhere near as adorable as you are today.

You've tested the limits of our tiredness, and there's been some boundaries pushed for patience as well. I've apologised, I've pleaded, I've chattered and I've mocked, but we're largely at a point where I realise that many of these moments are only temporary and you just don't know any better. Even when you're scratching at my chest with those nails that I know I've clipped, when you're both hungry and tired, when  you bobble your head around like a who-knows-what and you're bleating at me with a trembling bottom lip - I can look down at you (when my eyes focus and stop zig-zagging with tiredness) and try to capture the moment because I'm sure you're going to keep changing at an astounding rate.

You do spend far more time looking around, doing your best interpretation of 'adorable baby'. You've started  to make more coo-ing noises, happy little yells, and murmurs that we pretend are words. You look around, wide eyed. You look towards the toys we try to pacify you with, you stare up at the photos from our honeymoon that hang above the bed, you stare at the heater like it's the most wonderful invention known to modern man. And you do look deep in to our eyes.

While a lot of this first month has been spent asking you to please use your words and reasonably explain why you're bothered, jokingly telling you off for peeing all over the change table again, and staring at you bewildered after you've sharted on me, farted in daddy's face or projectile vomited with astounding vertical  force, it's been a good month.

Nice work, you cool baby.

Take me out

The husband and I (and now the baby too!) head back to each of our parents houses for family tea, once a week.

Thursday before last, we were only four steps in the door of the husbands parents before we handed the baby over. We hadn't had much sleep, the baby had started cluster feeding/screeching randomly, and we were all still getting gradually accustomed to each other.

Of course, they were more than happy to look after her that night - juggle her around the family room, coo at her, lull her to sleep and just sit and hold her, while the husband and I 'got a chance' to sit in the other room and graze all evening at the table.

The next day, we got an email from the husband's mother, offering to take her off our hands for a few hours so we could head out to dinner. I think that the tension/tiredness hanging over us was palpable that night - and I think there may have been concerns that baby would end up out the window if there wasn't an intervention.

Tonight, we're heading out to dinner, baby free for the first time in a month.

Let's see how it goes!

Weight for me

We took the baby in to be weighed yesterday - we missed the nurse by an hour, so we didn't get to find out if her head is bigger or if she's grown taller, but she has put on 755 grams in two weeks.

From week one to week two, she put on 330 grams.

We were advised that a baby will usually put on 150-200g a week, our baby is averaging 360g.

We were also advised that you can't overfeed a baby, so that's some solace.

I had been joking on facebook that I was eating all the oreo's in our house, to stop me from obsessively eating all the oreo's in the house at a later date (though I guess that 'joking' isn't necessarilly the right word, because it's pretty accurate. And it's also how my logic works).

And after we weighed the baby, I joked that I was doing the right thing by eating all the biscuits, as my baby is seemingly a good grower (we were also told by an aunty that all the babies in our family were good growers, so I'm putting some of it down to genetics).

But then the husband was telling me that there is a link between the diet of a breastfeeding mother and obesity/weight in children as they grow. So I googled it. And he's right.

Our day starts at about 1pm (we're in bed most days from midnight to midday) and I usually have cereal, soy milk, wholegrain toast with vegemite and fruit juice - just like the healthy eating ad from years ago: "start your day with a nutritional breakfast of cereal, mlik, toast, fruit and juice".

But then, we snack a bit during the day. And most nights, after dinner, I'll have a hot chocolate or cold chocolate. And perhaps some biscuits.

I wonder if I've already done the damage? I wonder if it is something we can correct? I wonder how big an impact what I ate for the last ten months will have on my daughter as a teenager? I wonder how my mum and my husband's mum ate during pregancy/feeding? I wonder if they ate differently for each child?

Time for me to book my follow up appointment with the nutritionist, I think.

Knowing

Our first week as a new family, trying to settle our new baby girl.

"Are you happy?" I joked, mock-sarcastically, "Now that you've got everything that you never wanted?"

"I am, sweetie" he replied, "it is what I wanted, I just didn't know it.".

Tired play

We figured we were just going through the three week growth spurt - our baby has spent the last few days feeding every three hours, almost to the minute. Yes, including overnight. Fuuuuuuuuun.

Last night she fed at 5:50pm, then again at 8:25 - because she was awake, and fussing, and sucking her hand, and refusing to be settled by any other means (typically, she enjoys having her butt patted as she's walked around in front of the stereo).

Then again at 9:00.

And 9:20.

And 10:05.

And 10:45.

This was when we worked out that she wasn't necessarily experiencing a growth spurt, she was overtired.

Really, babies are silly. You get tired, you sleep, right? And if you're really tired, perhaps you have a nice deep sleep that lasts longer than usual?

Wrong.

Baby gets tired, falls asleep at the baby equivalent of mid sentence (ie, scream, breathe in for a scream and then just suddenly fall flopsy), naps for 20 minutes, then starts screaming again, only to be settled by feeding. And repeat. Because, somehow, and for some crazy reason, overtired babies are harder to settle than your non-or-standard tired babies.

It is recommended that as soon as baby shows signs of being tired, you put them in bed to let them learn to 'self settle'. But then, it's not necessarily proven that a baby of less than four weeks can even 'learn' that type of thing. Plus, she falls asleep quicker in arms than she does alone in her bed. And you're told from early on that you can't spoil a baby with too many cuddles. And if she's awake enough to lay in her bassinet and grizzle, doesn't that mean she's awake? And if she's not sleeping, then shouldn't we be cuddling her to reinforce how much we love her and keep bonding? And if she is awake, shouldn't we be playing with her to stimulate her brain and help her to develop so she doesn't grow up stupid/feeling unloved?

Day by day, day by day...

There we go

Whether it's evident or not, I can see now that I did get my baby blues - the biggest hump being days 20, 21 & 22.

Wednesday afternoon, I came back from  the shops and let the tears fall on to the steering wheel.

That night, the husband was out, and as I tried to feed the baby on one arm and stop a very persistent dog from licking her with the other, the tears settled on my singlet with the spilled milk.

Thursday night (after some much appreciated relief courtesy of the husbands family), I stood in the family room as the stereo blared, rocking and swaying, christening my baby with more silent tears.

Friday morning, after another unsettled night, I watched my baby squirm and push me away as I tried to feed her. The husband told me he was tired, I told him I was tired, he told me he understood and patted my back, and I hid from him the tears that I let slip out on to my pillow.

Saturday was a good day. She slept a lot, she continued her little bunny sneezes, she looked at us with her bright blue eyes.

Sunday was a better day. Visitors came through, she cooed and followed us with her eyes, her demeanor settles when she hears my voice.

Monday was a great day. I slept fairly well, I was up and dressed quickly, and I took her around the factory outlet and spent some money that I probably shouldn't have (down to 1.5 salaries). But to have that time alone with her (as she slept peacefully!), to practice being a 'public' mum, to buy some clothes that were lady sized and are warm and can be worn out  when we're 'better' at all of this, helped me to realise exactly who we are now.

Today

I realised

for the first time

that in all honesty

and with all my heart

I actually do

love

my baby daughter.