Bathroom Napping, or How I Maintained My Sanity Today

For one reason or another, Davyd was particularly fussy today. Normally the child loves to sleep, & falls asleep quickly & easily at naptime & bedtime, but today naps have not come easily. I held him for the duration of his morning nap. After several failed attempts to lull him to sleep & then gently place him in his swing, which ended in screaming, I finally gave up & held him for 2 hours. Don't get me wrong, I love snuggling with this little guy, but I had things to do this morning (that still aren't done)! After his early afternoon meal, I decided it was about time I took a shower. Davyd appeared to be in good spirits, so I tucked him into his car seat & high-tailed it to the shower. He laid there contentedly playing with his hands and looking at his car seat toy for several minutes. This pleasant interlude ended at the exact moment that I began lathering the shampoo into my frizzled, overly hair-sprayed hair (hair spray is a life-saver when frequent shampoos are simply not an option). I quickly rinsed my hands, hopped out of the shower, and attempted to return Davyd's pacifier to his mouth without getting water all over him. I failed. The only option at that point was to endure the crying while rapidly rinsing the shampoo from my hair and drying off. I was then able to calm the very unhappy little man, and coax him to sleep between applications of various hair products. After completing my grooming routine, I looked at the beautiful, sleeping child & realized that the last thing I wanted to do on this earth was wake him up. I had a choice: move him & risk a repeat of the morning or leave him in the bathroom for the rest of his nap. The latter option won, so there he stayed for the remainder of his nap. For a moment, I felt slightly guilty for leaving my baby boy in the bathroom to sleep, but then I listened to the luxurious sound of silence throughout the house, and decided that my decision to leave him there was really the best thing for all of us. Motherhood requires a kind of creativity that I had not expected. Live and learn, & then leave your child wherever he will sleep (as long as he's safe). 

Lessons in Mommyhood: Two Outings is Too Many

Today I finally got to church for the first time since Davyd was born.  Our morning went very smoothly.  We even got out of the house with time to spare.  We arrived at church and were greeted by many friends who ogled over our little man. Davyd was wonderful at church.  He slept most of the time, got up once to eat, and then promptly fell asleep again. On the way home from church, Matt and I engaged in the typical "What on earth are we going to eat today?" conversation.  We finally decided to use one of the gift cards that we got when Davyd was born to go out for dinner.

This is the decision that caused the evening to spiral into a whirlwind of crying, eating, fighting sleep, more crying, and more eating.  It was very clear to us that Davyd was overly tired (Yes, my mother warned me to be careful not to let him get overly tired.  "It'll make for an unpleasant day", she said. Well Ma, you are right as usual). Finally after several conversations in which Matt and I attempted to figure out what to do (which sometimes consisted simply of confused, frustrated stares), our dear little screaming child fell asleep on his father's chest on his own.

*Cue Hallelujah Chorus*

Minutes later, Matt and I had this conversation:

Matt: (whispering) I think I'm going to put him in his swing.

Me: (also whispering) If you do, and he wakes up and starts crying, I'm going to go outside, get into the car, and drive.  I'm not sure when I'll stop.  I imagine that I will, but I don't know when.

Matt: I'll keep holding him.

He's still sleeping on Matt's chest.  Davyd has a wonderful father. I have a wonderful husband.

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Eating and sleeping, sleeping and eating.

It appears as though our dear little boy is going through a growth spurt.  Over the past two days he has wanted to do nothing other than eat and cuddle, and while I thoroughly enjoy cuddling with my precious boy, I've had little opportunity to do anything else, including taking a shower (Too much information?  Forgive me.  This, I have learned, is the life of a mother).  It is, however, very reassuring to know that my boy is growing.  I have a feeling that in a short amount of time, I will no longer be concerned about his growth.  He is, after all, a Bellis.  (For those who don't know, my husband is 6'4" and broad.  Yes, broad.).  Davyd is now beginning to fit into his 0-3 months clothing, which is so much fun, because he has received many adorable outfits from friends and family.  It seems finding outfits to fit him is going to be a challenge.  He is currently wearing 0-3 month onesies and shirts, newborn pants, and 6-9 month socks.  (The boy has enormous feet.  Perhaps he will be a swimmer.)  The challenge with this is that most baby clothes are sold as a group, which means I may be found in the corner of the baby clothing store, "mixing and matching" sizes. ;) To all the moms out there, where are the best places to mix and match without angering store staff? Are there many places that sell separates?  Most of the clothing we have has been purchased by friends and family, so I'm still a little clueless about shopping for this little guy.
At the moment, Davyd is sleeping peacefully.  So I suppose I really should be doing something other than blogging.  Something like brushing my teeth or changing out of my pajamas for once.  Here's hoping he sleeps for a few more minutes!

Welcome to the world, Davyd Atticus

I've recently been reading blogs written by other moms & it has inspired me to start writing again. We shall see how long this lasts.

Six weeks ago today, we welcomed our dear little boy, Davyd Atticus into the world. We had invisioned the type of birthing experience seen on TV & movies to some extent- complete with screaming obscenities & other nonsense. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on one's perspective), that didn't happen. I spent a good part of 6 months contemplating the natural child birth aids I would utilize as I attempted to move this child from one environment to the other. However, all of the reading & worrying I did was useless. (The worrying always is. Maybe I'll learn someday). Labor started in the wee hours of Thursday morning and then progressed & regressed throughout the day. 

 Finally, after many hours of sitting on my (slightly deflated) exercise ball, we decided to head to the hospital. One thing I did not anticipate was the discomfort of a car ride while in labor. Not fun. Of course, the worst was yet to come. We got settled into triage, & after about an hour, my midwife came in to check on us & mentioned a slight concern she had about Davyd's heart rate during contractions. Naturally, we were somewhat concerned, but since Cheri (our midwife) didn't seem too concerned, we didn't worry too much. 

Eventually we were moved to a labor & delivery room, & shortly thereafter, were introduced to Dr. Eichenlaub, who voiced more concerns about Davyd's heart rate. He explained that we may have to do a c-section, but he didn't want to "jump the gun", so he would be monitoring us closely. In the event that a c-section was necessary, he wanted to make the call soon enough so that it didn't become an emergency & Matt could have time to "scrub in" to be in the operating room. After that conversation I had several contractions in which Davyd's heart rate remained high, so our nurse left the room for a moment. As she did, I began having another contraction. The next thing I knew, Matt was frantically pushing the call button & running out of the room to get the nurse. Within seconds, which seemed like an eternity, Matt, our nurse, Dr. Eichenlaub, & several other people entered the room. Davyd's heart rate wasn't coming back up despite changing positions, so Dr. Eichenlaub decided we needed to do an emergency c-section. This is where things get even more blurry. The vision I have of this memory includes bright lights, a stark white ceiling, & an emergency code (which I knew was for me) being played overhead. Within seconds I was in the operating room, unaware of where my husband was (or how he was), & climbing onto the operating table (apparently when the nurse says, "We'll need you to move to the operating table" she doesn't necessarily mean for you to move yourself, but it saves time). 

 People have asked me how I was feeling during all of this, but it's hard to say. Things were moving so quickly, I didn't have time to think about how I was feeling. I just knew they needed to get my son out, so I was doing everything I thought I should to make that happen more quickly. 

Not long after getting onto the table, I was being put under. The anesthesiologist explained that I'd feel a lot of pressure on my throat. It was more than I felt was normal, so to convey my concern I said, "Oh boy" & with that was blissfully unconscious. The next memory I have is the image of a nurse, lights & my husband staring at me & saying things I couldn't comprehend. (Yes, the lights were talking too). Apparently I had come out of the anesthesia much earlier, but I have no recollection of that whatsoever. 

Finally, they moved me to the "couplet care" room where I saw my parents (whom, I'm sure were out of their minds with worry), and waited while Matt went to get Davyd from the nursery. 

I will never forget the sight of him wheeling that weird crib thing into the room with this tiny little baby that was all ours. I was still a little fuzzy as Matt handed him to me, & I was somewhat concerned that I wasn't quite yet fit to be holding him. It was a great feeling to have my son in my arms, but due to the drugs I was on, was less emotional than I had anticipated. Maybe I shouldn't say less emotional, but emotional in a different way than I had expected. I felt so relieved that I had my little boy & he was healthy & unscathed from his traumatic entrance into this world. I was also still so foggy from anesthesia, I don't think I fully realized that this child in my arms was mine. I mean, I knew he was mine, but the weight of that fact didn't hit until the anesthesia wore off completely.

Our lives have been completely altered by this little one's existence. I am now able to function on less than 4 hours of sleep, which is something I have never been able to do. Motherhood has stretched me in ways I never realized it would (despite being warned by friends... it's something each woman has to experience on her own). It has been a beautiful, exhausting, invigorating, frustrating, and exciting experience- one for which I could not be more grateful.

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