baby

Sisterhood.

by theresa on February 6, 2012

Before Squeaky (yes, I changed her blog nickname) was born, I wondered over and over again how I could possibly find room in my heart to love another child as much as I loved Hugga. Everybody told me it would “just happen” but I honestly couldn’t fathom how. Then I gave birth and realized everyone was right. It just happened.

Every morning since we’ve gotten home, the first thing Hugga wants to do when she gets out of bed is kiss her squeaky little sister. Hugga has been adjusting to the change swimmingly so far — her jealous moments are rare, and whenever Squeaky starts to cry, Hugga is way more inclined to want to figure out what’s wrong. She’ll sing to her or giggle with her or, most often, she says, “Hurry, Mommy, Squeaky wants to nurse!” And very little about her behavior has changed — she’s still the loving girl she’s always been, and still needs the occasional attitude check as usual. We barely had to teach her any of this — it’s almost like Hugga is a natural professional big sister.

One of the shitty things about Huz and I being only children is that we’re hyperaware of what a huge change this must be for Hugga. At least, I should say I am hyperaware. Huz is taking his cues from Hugga, and since she doesn’t seem to be having that much trouble with the transition (at least, much less than I was anticipating), he’s a lot less conflicted about it as I am.

I, unsurprisingly, am a nervous wreck. This sister thing is clearly much harder for me than it is for Hugga, and I am overthinking and making a big deal out of something that most families don’t even think about.

I’m sure part of it has to do with the regular baby blues (which are admittedly less severe this time around), but I feel guilty for everything. I make a concerted effort to include Hugga in everything I do and still try to do as much of the old Hugga routine as I can — helping her brush her teeth, getting her ready for bed, reading her bedtime book to her, etc. I tell her almost every second of the day that she’s doing an amazing job as a big sister. And I try to shower her with kisses and hugs as much as possible, which she’s still pretty uninterested in.

Yet I still feel bad in those moments when we have to be serious about stuff we’ve always had to be serious about — like how she takes forever to eat. I even feel bad when I really consider how much less terrifying parenthood is the second time around, and how much more mellow I am with Squeaky than I was with Hugga. I worry that I’ve deprived Hugga of something by being too cautious or I worry that maybe I didn’t have as much patience back then as I do now (of course I didn’t).

But I really broke down yesterday when Squeaky started crying and I caught Hugga pushing the swing when I had specifically asked her not to. Hugga was gentle and she sang to her and, most importantly, got Squeaky to stop fussing. I cry like an idiot just thinking about it. I felt intensely bad that I didn’t have more faith in Hugga’s ability to handle things well, and I guess that’s where I gotta find my strength in this.

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And Everything Went Better Than Expected…

by theresa on February 3, 2012

We got Hugga’s old preschool teacher-turned-family friend situated in the guest room and left the house at around 2 AM. The contractions started at around midnight, right when Huz got home from work, but they were so different this time — so much milder, like 30-second back aches — that I wasn’t even sure what they were. I just didn’t want to try to sleep and then get hit with “real” contractions too quickly, so I made Huz get out of bed and start getting ready to go. But we half-expected the folks at the hospital to tell us I was in false labor and end up sending us home.

Alas, we were on our way and I gave the operator at L&D the speech my doctor told me to give: my contractions were mild but four and a half minutes apart, my baby was breech, and I have a history of fast delivery. The roads were clear and my contractions weren’t terrible, but Huz was still driving anxiously — we forgot a towel and he was afraid my water was going to break in the car.

Once we got to the hospital at around 3, the movement was pretty swift. I was having contractions, and while they didn’t feel that much more severe than before, they were getting closer together. The hospital staff was getting the OR ready, digging IV crap of various sizes into my wrists, and assuring me that we were going to get this show on the road.

Bunches was born at 3:52 AM on the 31st, less than an hour after we got to the hospital. She was a very healthy 8 pounds, 7 ounces, no complications, and has been latching on the boob like a champ. Hugga looks a lot like her dad, but Bunches overwhelmingly looks more like me, with my lips, my nose, and my ears.

I don’t have much to say about the C-section experience. It was weird, but pretty on par with having a drug-free vaginal delivery. I remember both times having the feeling, “I would be batshit insane to do this again.” I do have to say, it was actually nice that it happened the way it did — everything was quick, I didn’t have to go through much trauma, and no tough decisions needed to be made.

Recovery has definitely been more difficult than before. My recovery has pretty much been by the book, and it’s still pretty rough. Day 2 went much better than Day 1, and it gets easier by the day, but the incision still feels weird and it still hurts to laugh too hard or cough or sneeze. I also didn’t have much of an apetite the first day, and I’m still on pain meds to get around the house, but in my honest opinion, I wouldn’t say that one delivery went better than the other. Then again, I was really lucky to have pretty ideal circumstances either way.

On the home front, Hugga is really amped to be a big sister. We’ve had some rough points — Hugga takes after me in that she likes to think she knows how to do everything by herself and doesn’t like being told anything, and we’ve had to remind her to be gentle and keep her voice down when Bunches is sleeping, which she couldn’t help but be dramatic about. But the great thing, the thing that makes everything so much easier is that Hugga totally loves Bunches. She’s fascinated by her, wants to look at her face all the time and shower her with hugs and kisses. The first thing she said when she woke up was, “Is Mommy and Bunches still here?” and she ran out of bed saying, “I wanna see Bunches!”

And Huz made everything so easy on our first night back home. By homecoming, the dishes had been done, multiple loads of baby laundry had been washed, he’d taken care of my lunch and dinner, and after picking up Hugga from preschool, he even voluntarily went out shopping for some last-minute essentials. I serendipitously and unknowingly married a professional dad, and I don’t know what amazing thing I did to deserve him and all this.

We’ve been really lucky so far to have everything go according to plan. Nothing I worried about even happened. I went into labor when Huz was already home, we had Hugga taken care of, we’ve had a bunch of friends already come to visit, and save for a fever I had right after delivery (which didn’t even make me feel that crappy), the entire experience couldn’t have gone better.

And we couldn’t be happier. :)

31/366: they meet for the first time!

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The Third Trimester.

by theresa on December 2, 2011

our little tree. sehana rearranges the ornaments every day.

We’ve had our tree up since Saturday and Huz already managed to get some presents wrapped. Today we wrapped up the first two gifts for the baby, and as Huz was writing her name on the boxes (yes, we’ve already named her) it finally hit me. I’m in my third damn trimester and quite close to pushing a baby out my business…

Suddenly, I’m fucking terrified.

I know that I’ve done this before, and I’ve been really great about keeping this pregnancy as stress-free as possible, but I kind of feel like I have to spend the next month or so really getting my head in the game. Huz already started talking about packing a bag, when I’ve done nothing about a birth plan, still haven’t made arrangements for Hugga, and have been procrastinating about getting her room organized and taking out all the baby gear. How did all this shit get away from me?!

Well, now that Hugga’s birthday party and Thanksgiving have passed, I’ve had about a week of downtime to be lazy and not think about anything. My to-do list for December:

  • A “birth plan,” which really just means arrangements and three backup plans for Hugga’s care. The actual birth plan basically consists of me giving birth (preferring no painkillers).
  • Cleaning and organizing Hugga’s room again. Still haven’t moved her clothes or done the dresser switcheroo.
  • Planning our Christmas dinner. Won’t be as big a deal as our Thanksgiving meal; I just need to search for some yummy and fun recipes.
  • Christmas gifts! Oh God, the gifts!

***

Surprisingly, the only thing second to giving birth on the anxiety scale is the getting gifts — namely for Huz.

He is mad picky and discerning about everything he owns. Gadgets and sneakers — his two great loves — are impossible to surprise him with. He has standards and preferences about electronics I know nothing about and can’t comprehend (he knows music equipment on a level I can’t get to, the same way I have arbitrary reasons for why I prefer the cameras I prefer). He also works for a technology company and can get anything I could possibly think to get him for cheaper than I could. Like I can’t just secretly order him an iPod Touch, pop it under the tree, and be done with it without him wondering why I didn’t tell him first. And his shoe game is so on point that he knows all the release dates and can reasonably assume when I’m about to get him a pair of J’s, because I always have to instruct him NOT to buy them.

So far, I did get him parts to something he explicitly asked for (rather, something he told me he wanted after I explicitly asked), but I’m also looking for something really special — not necessarily pricey or big, but you know, that kind of gift you want to give your best friend, that shows you remembered a two minute conversation that happened last year but clearly meant a lot to the other person. This is so much more difficult to do when you hate leaving the house during the holiday season. Browsing the aisles online just isn’t the same.

I imagine I’m also a pain in the ass to shop for cause I never state any preferences. The mere thought of asking for people to buy me stuff I can afford to buy myself — even my own husband — really makes me uncomfortable, to the point where I even feel weird starting a baby registry for things we legitimately need, speaking of gifts and baby preparation. We have a four-year-old and should theoretically have all the appropriate gear, and have a better idea of what we’ve actually used, but it turns out we neglected to bring a lot of that shit with us when we moved across the country, and my mom didn’t think we were going to have another kid so she gave a lot of our old stuff away to make space in her garage.

I’ve started a registry but I don’t even want to send it out. I literally got nauseated when I had to add an $80 infant car seat to the list (I searched for the cheapest, which luckily turned out to be the same one we already had a base for). I know that my cousin has one she’s willing to give us, and Huz and I gave some stuff out when our friends had babies and they’ve been more than happy to return those items. But understandably, having to get to the post office or UPS is a huge hassle, especially at this time of year, so I’m not really counting on getting most of that stuff back. Still, having to buy some of this stuff again when we JUST had this gear a few years ago even makes me want to reconsider the idea of having a third child, just so we could get some damn mileage out of these items, which is kind of horrifying.

Anyway, progress will need to be made somehow. My mom gets back into town on the 15th, so hopefully by then I can at least get Hugga’s stuff cleaned out.

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