Smatterytag:www.smattery.com,2009://12009-02-20T20:02:28ZMovable Type 3.35Hey! You!tag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2742009-02-20T20:00:54Z2009-02-20T20:02:28ZHi! This here operation has moved to http://www.smattery.com/blog. Go there! Things will not be updated here anymore. Thank you and have a lovely day....
http://www.smattery.com/blog. Go there! Things will not be updated here anymore.
Thank you and have a lovely day.]]>
Best discovery evertag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2732009-02-15T16:53:01Z2009-02-15T17:01:11ZRecently we discovered that sometimes when Eva's fussing and crying for no apparent reason, all she wants is to be put down in a bassinet or swing or something and left alone for a while. She looks around happily and...
Recently we discovered that sometimes when Eva's fussing and crying for no apparent reason, all she wants is to be put down in a bassinet or swing or something and left alone for a while. She looks around happily and quietly. It's taken a little while for me to not feel like I'm being a terrible mother and ignoring my child, but that's clearly what she wants.
Obviously she takes after her mother and likes her down time.
Happy 1-month birthday! And now for the good stufftag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2722009-02-13T18:11:46Z2009-02-13T18:59:39ZFour Fridays ago, Eva joined us in the outside world. Today I want to write about the good things. For sanity's sake, I've often written about the difficult times just to help myself get through them and so I haven't...
soon-to-be parents with nothing but horror stories.
First of all, there is nothing in the world as cute, endearing and awe-inspiring as your own offspring. I could (and do) spend hours doing nothing but running my hands over her strawberry-blond hair, tickling her toes, contemplating her perfect little ears, and gazing happily into her big blue eyes (when they're actually open).
Breastfeeding. In the first couple of weeks, I asked myself on an hourly basis if breastfeeding was really worth it. It is a huge commitment. In the beginning it's painful, it interferes with your sleep at a time when you really need to be recovering from the trauma of childbirth, and it's hard to get it right when the baby is new to it and you're new to it. Plus, there's the stress of wondering if the baby is getting enough to eat, especially before your mature milk comes in. Then the milk does come in and your breasts become engorged and you spend the next few days walking around with bags of frozen corn held to your throbbing boobs and doing damage control when milk starts squirting out of them at the sound of someone else's crying baby. And at times in the beginning I despaired because every time I held her, she rooted around and I felt like all I was to her was a milk cow.
But wait, I'm talking about how breastfeeding is a good thing? Turns out that after the first couple of weeks, Eva and I got the hang of it, it stopped being painful and feeding her has become the highlight of my day. There's no way to really describe the satisfaction of being able to give nourishment to my child with nothing but my body. And with each day that passes, she becomes more aware of her surroundings and of me and I can see that eating makes her happy. She's starting to realize when I pick her up and turn her belly towards mine, that she's going to get to eat and her eyes light up. She smiles and dives in, making happy sighs and grunts. It's an amazing feeling to not just be able to calm her down, but to be able to actually make her happy several times a day.
Today she paused in the middle of eating and pulled backwards just to gaze up at me and smile and I thought my heart would break from happiness.
Another good thing is that Eva really is a lovely baby during the day and she's very content in her car seat and stroller. In order to give her a chance to nap in the afternoon, we've been taking her out to various places almost every day. It's fantastic to be able to get out of the house and I've discovered how ridiculously proud I can feel when someone stops and coos over her. We've gone out nearly every day in the past couple of weeks and I realize that is something to be incredibly grateful for. I can't wait until it's warm enough to go for walks with her around the neighborhood.
Of course, there's also the fact that we're surrounded by friends and family who welcome her and love her. My family is incredibly supportive. My dad says that Eva is the best thing to happen to our family in a long time and as we look forward to two more rounds of chemotherapy for him, I'm glad that she can be a ray of light for my family.
In the past few days I've started to notice how much bigger she's getting and I've started to understand how parents could possibly be nostalgic for a baby's newborn stage. I'm seeing glimpses of the big chubby baby she will become and while I want to speed up time to a point where this will be easier, I also want to stop it and hold her tiny body in my arms forever.]]>
It gets optimistic at the end, I promisetag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2712009-02-12T23:01:32Z2009-02-13T00:21:13ZIt doesn't seem like it's only been a week since I last wrote, but Baby Time doesn't move in the same way as normal time. When you have no idea how much you'll sleep (if any), and when, days cease...
month.
Tomorrow, Eva will be four weeks old. I could wait to write this until tomorrow, but I have no idea what tomorrow will hold. Right now, Brad is holding Eva on the couch and keeping her just one notch shy of a full-on screaming fit and giving me some time to write.
Scratch that, now she's screaming.
I feel bad writing while my daughter is screaming, but I sort of did my time already today, when I brought her to the doctor. After several hours of poking, prodding, and even a chest x-ray (boy did I feel terrible for exposing her to radiation at the tender age of four weeks), it turns out nothing's terribly wrong with our daughter. She may have a cold or acid reflux. Or, and I have a sneaking suspicion this is the case, she is just noisy and we will be doomed to never sleep again.
This past week, Eva has regressed back into the habit she had in her first week of refusing to sleep in a crib or bassinet. Something about being on her back, or maybe something about being not physically attached to Brad or me, makes her very, very angry. She wakes herself up screaming every time. Sleep has been a nightmare, and it was never great to begin with. She becomes so overtired by evening that we have to deal with hours of screaming or breaking our backs trying desperately to keep her from screaming. By midnight or 1am, she tends to collapse into a fitful sleep because she's so exhausted.
Last night we tried a few new variables in her sleep routine. It seemed to work and Brad and I whispered to each other in glee as she slept at the miraculously early hour of 10:40pm. We were almost giddy with excitement that we may have found something that worked. It seemed like such a blessing just to be lying there in bed, together, at the same time, rather than dealing with her in shifts.
And then she started making the Noise. The Noise is an indescribable grunting, throat-clearing, baby-Wookiee screech that comes in fits and starts and often crescendos to decibles you wouldn't believe an 8-pound human being could possible be capable of producing. She's made this noise a few times in the past, but last night, it accompanied almost every one of her exhalations. She continued to sleep and we knew she desperately needed the sleep so we didn't even consider rousing her, and time dragged on and we simultaneously marveled that she was actually sleeping and became more and more disbelieving at the cruel irony that her sleep and our sleep was quickly becoming mutually exclusive because she was just so noisy.
At first, the Noise was annoying because it was keeping us from sleeping and then we started to get worried and we leaned in close to try to figure out if she was breathing enough, and we touched her skin to see if she felt feverish and we discussed over and over whether there was something terribly wrong with her or whether we were simply cursed with a baby who has suddenly decided to be that noisy.
Then at 3:30 in the morning, after her second feeding, she decided that instead of going back to sleep, she'd start screaming inconsolably. I had gotten maybe an hour or two of sleep the previous night and my brain is so gone these days I honestly can't remember what had happened that night (and it was only the night before last) that had led to my getting so little sleep. Anyway, after about a half-hour of trying unsuccessfully to console her, Brad finally took her from my arms, told me to go to sleep, and went out to the living room where he eventually got her to fall asleep in his arms and he dozed, sitting up. I collapsed into a sleep-paralysis-plagued nap of several hours and I'm sure that's the only thing that has allowed me to function at all today.
Sometimes I feel like I have to write about these bad times because writing about them is tangible proof of surviving them. Nobody but Brad understands what the nights are like. Eva is good-natured and all-around lovely during the day when other people see her, so nobody believes how difficult she is at night. People tend to laugh off my comments as though I'm just being kind of flippant when I talk about how hard things are. The good news (ha) is that her fussy times are coming earlier and earlier every day so soon they'll start to overlap with all of our visits and outings and people will finally have to start believing me.
So I finally brought her to the doctor today with the ridiculous hope that there might be some medical reason for her unhappy grunting, something that's fixable and that will imply there will be an end to this before she's ready to move out of the house. I didn't get much for medical advice, other than to have her sleep propped up. It's nice to get approval for allowing her to sleep this way (sometimes I feel like if you allow your baby to sleep in any way other than flat on her back in a bassinet or crib, you're seen as dooming her to die of SIDS), but I have little hope that it'll do much good.
Before I had a baby, I always said my nightmare was that I'd get an inconsolable, fussy, screaming baby. I worried I'd have a baby that cried all the time. Sometimes I feel like that's what I got. I know, logically, that she will grow and develop and she won't be a newborn for eternity, but it still feels that way. I can't even feel victorious that I've reached the end of a day because there is no such thing as the end of the day in my world anymore. I just look at the clock at some point and it's 3 or 4 in the morning and I have to start referring to a few hours ago as "yesterday" instead of "today".
It's just a good thing I would do anything for this baby. She seems to test this principle every day and every day I manage to make good on it. And now it comes down to what I really wanted to write about when I sat down to my computer: how grateful I am for Brad and everything he's done since Eva's birth to help keep me sane. He's truly an equal partner in this and there are times I feel like he does more than his fair share of parenting. I don't know how I could have done this without him here with me every day, and I've never been more thankful for this shitty economy and his unemployment. Eva has two full-time stay-at-home parents right now and neither one of us could imagine doing it without the other (I don't want to think about what it's going to be like once one of us has to go back to work). More than anything else, Brad makes me look forward to the future and realize how amazing our family of three is going to be.]]>
At this momenttag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2692009-02-04T02:38:14Z2009-02-04T02:58:13ZYou know how people like to tack the words "in bed" on the end of fortune cookie sayings? Well, Brad and I have started doing something similar when talking about Eva. Only ours is, "at this moment." It goes like...
this baby and at this age -- just aren't very predictable and it's dangerous to start making predictions and having expectations of any kind. That way lies stress and many, many tears. Trust me on this one.
The lack of expectations does go both ways, thankfully. After a particularly awful night of wailing until midnight, I'm tempted to expect the worst from her until she's 18. But then the next day will be relatively easy.
Have I mentioned yet that this is the hardest thing I've ever done? Harder even than the six and a half hours of pushing to get the little beast out of me. Harder than 10 months of pregnancy, with the sickness and the aches and pains and the exhaustion. I can't count the number of times I've told myself that I'm not the right person for this job. But then, I have to add "at this moment" to the end of all my thoughts of that kind, too. Because there are also moments where I find unimaginable reserves of patience and care inside me.
I'm holding out for first time she really smiles at us. At the risk of having an expectation, I imagine that smile will do a lot to sustain me.]]>
I made thattag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2682009-01-29T18:24:14Z2009-01-29T18:25:39Z There are times I absolutely can't believe that Brad and I made this beautiful, silly, stubborn, curious and strong little girl....
There are times I absolutely can't believe that Brad and I made this beautiful, silly, stubborn, curious and strong little girl.]]>
Waiting for it to get bettertag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2672009-01-28T17:43:28Z2009-01-28T17:55:16ZSometimes when I'm feeling particularly desperate, I read old entries of Dooce's from when she first became a mother. One day in the harrowing first week of parenthood, I sat there reading this entry out loud to Brad, and simultaneously...
this entry out loud to Brad, and simultaneously crying and laughing so hard I almost couldn't get the words out. If I had an ounce of the sense of humor that woman has, I could have almost written her post (except for the parts about labor not being that bad... and breastfeeding being easy).
It's wonderful to feel like all of what I'm going through is pretty normal, and that people actually decide at some point that it's so worth it they'd like to have another kid (something I can't imagine yet, to be honest). It's not so wonderful to know that I identify so well with someone who later had to check herself into a hospital for postpartum depression.
These days, my biggest problem is that even when I try to sleep when Eva sleeps, I can't. I lay there, maybe dozing off for 15-30 minutes if I'm lucky. Even when she's sleeping in another room and Brad is watching her, and it's perfectly quiet, I can't sleep. The only time I can sleep is when I'm drop-down exhausted, and getting to that point is not pretty. So most of the time, I'm a nervous wreck, knowing that she'll be awake and wanting to constantly nurse for four to six continuous hours during the only time of day my body wants to allow me to sleep.
So here I am, not sleeping when she sleeps. Because I already tried that for an hour and a half, and got maybe a half hour of sleep.
I keep telling myself it's supposed to get better. I keep imagining how someday she'll smile at us. Maybe if I keep telling myself that I'll get to the point where I can relax enough to sleep.]]>
Meltdown-free for 15 hourstag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2652009-01-26T16:11:10Z2009-01-26T16:36:25ZI've had this blog post in my head for a few days now, but haven't had the chance to write it down. It's about how, at least in these first couple of weeks of motherhood, everything - no matter how...
I've had this blog post in my head for a few days now, but haven't had the chance to write it down. It's about how, at least in these first couple of weeks of motherhood, everything - no matter how mundane - is in relation to the baby. It's a disconcerting feeling, as though I've become nothing but a ball of maternal instinct, with no conscious control over myself. And I'm someone who likes to have control over myself.
I will probably never forget the low point of sleep deprivation I experienced a couple of nights ago. We'd had an amazingly good day. Eva was happy and sleeping and eating well, and Brad and I decided we were brave enough to put her in her car seat and take her to Target to pick up a few things. She slept the entire time. The day continued to go well and we didn't have any problems with her. We were amazed and elated. Somehow, we were in such great spirits we forgot about the impending night and neither of us took any naps during the day. We wasted all of her good sleep time with errands and getting things done.
That night, she had a huge meltdown around midnight. She screamed and screamed and her face and her whole body turned almost purple, her voice got scratchy with all the screaming. This lasted for a couple of hours. We tried everything and couldn't fix it. I still remember a moment when I was in the bathroom and Brad had Eva, and everywhere I looked and saw anything circular - a shadow, the open bottle of Ibuprofen - all I saw was a wide open, hungry baby mouth.
Later that night when she was finally sleeping again, I heard the humidifier gurgle and I thought she was spitting up. A cat meowed downstairs and I thought it was Eva crying. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night and I fully expect Eva to still be attached to my breast, but no - she's sleeping in her bassinet.
It's a surreal world, having a new baby. It isn't quite so strange when you can manage to accumulate a few hours of sleep here and there. Last night was the best night we've had since she was born. But I'll still nap today; I won't make that same mistake again.
What a difference a day makestag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2642009-01-23T03:31:49Z2009-01-23T03:38:04ZIt amazes me how much Eva changes from day to day. Physically, temperamentally... everything. Yesterday at this time, I was sobbing and asking myself if I was going to be cradling an 18-year-old to sleep, because it seemed like there...
It amazes me how much Eva changes from day to day. Physically, temperamentally... everything. Yesterday at this time, I was sobbing and asking myself if I was going to be cradling an 18-year-old to sleep, because it seemed like there would be no end to Eva's need to be in contact with us while she slept. The longest she'd ever stayed in her bassinet until today was 30 minutes, and most of that was spent alternating crying and soothing with a few minutes of peace.
Today, we just got her up from a 2 hour and 45 minute nap in her bassinet and she was happy and rested. Brad's changing her diaper now while I quickly type this out (and I haven't heard any screams yet, which is also new). I have to capture the small victories and the big victories -- and this is a big victory -- so I can come back to them during those times when it seems like it will never get easier.
Brad is standing there next to me with her right now saying to Eva, "you're having a good day and giving us hope for the future."
Now I have to go feed my daughter and try not to give myself too high of expectations for tomorrow.
Today's Small Victoriestag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2632009-01-23T00:47:51Z2009-01-23T01:04:20Z- Actually putting on real clothes today rather than pajamas. - Eva staying in her bassinet for 45 straight minutes for the first time. - Successful pooping (and I'm not talking about the baby!) - Two hours of uninterrupted sleep...
- Actually putting on real clothes today rather than pajamas.
- Eva staying in her bassinet for 45 straight minutes for the first time.
- Successful pooping (and I'm not talking about the baby!)
- Two hours of uninterrupted sleep (again, not the baby).
- Eating a meal at the table with Brad without either of us having to get up to take to care of the baby (thanks to my mom for making that one possible).
- Carving out enough time to talk to two people on the phone.
- Strawberry-blond baby hair.
Our Eva is heretag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2622009-01-22T01:04:18Z2009-01-22T07:31:25Z (more photos on Flickr) Eva was born last Friday, the 16th, the day after I had posted about nothing much happening. In fact, when I look back on the timestamp on that entry, it was six hours before my...
(more photos on Flickr)
Eva was born last Friday, the 16th, the day after I had posted about nothing much happening. In fact, when I look back on the timestamp on that entry, it was six hours before my water broke. Twenty hours later, we had an Eva. An itty bitty little peanut, 6 pounds 1.75 ounces and 19 inches long. She's now at about 5 pounds 13 ounces (a very reasonable amount of postpartum weight loss, we're told).
I never thought we'd have such a wee baby, especially given my hugeness during pregnancy and the difficulty of giving birth to her. But there she is, tiny and perfect.
Labor and delivery were more difficult than I'd imagined. My pregnancy was so textbook and there were no signs that I had a huge baby, and we knew she was head down, so I naively assumed the birth wouldn't be anything that odd, as far as birthing babies goes. I don't want to go into a huge, gory explanation of her birth, at least not right now, but what I will tell you is that it's probably better to just expect the worst from labor and delivery - that way any little victory looks good. I came out of that experience with the conclusion that my body might be built to carry babies, but not so much built for birthing them.
Still, even though the experience was not what I'd expected, the instant they put this slimy, squirmy baby on my chest right after I finally delivered her, my first thought wasn't, "thank God that's over," it was complete awe and joy at finally holding this baby.
The last six days (I think? What day is it?) have been everything all new parents say it is: the most extremely joyful and difficult thing I've ever done. Giving birth was 20 hours of hard work, but it had a definite beginning, middle and end. The hard work of caring for a newborn, especially with the grueling demands of breastfeeding practically every hour, makes life seem like one unending day of eating and pooping.
Now my happy little pooper wants to eat, so for now I'll just say that every time she looks up at me with those big blue eyes, I forget about everything that sucks about becoming a parent. ]]>
Nothing much happeningtag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2602009-01-15T18:14:40Z2009-01-15T18:22:56ZWell. Contractions returned yesterday afternoon and continued aaaaaaall night long and into today. There were some that hurt badly enough to wake me up last night, but I actually did sleep pretty well, considering. But the contractions haven't increased in...
Well. Contractions returned yesterday afternoon and continued aaaaaaall night long and into today. There were some that hurt badly enough to wake me up last night, but I actually did sleep pretty well, considering. But the contractions haven't increased in frequency. Every seven minutes seems to be the norm, though in the last couple of hours I've had a few random 12-minute intervals thrown in there. This is discouraging. It makes me think this is not leading to a real labor.
I've decided to stop timing contractions for a while and do other things to distract myself. Like getting some work done. And painting my toenails. I figure that the contortions required for me to reach my toes might break my water or something.
I hope these shenanigans don't go on for days.
Five daystag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2592009-01-14T21:10:10Z2009-01-14T21:41:45ZFive days till my due date. I kept thinking I was completely ready to get this baby-birthing show on the road, but then early this morning I started having some pretty regular contractions (10-15 minutes apart) and I realized I...
Five days till my due date. I kept thinking I was completely ready to get this baby-birthing show on the road, but then early this morning I started having some pretty regular contractions (10-15 minutes apart) and I realized I didn't want to have the baby yet. I wanted to go to work instead.
Crazy, I know. I just didn't feel quite ready.
The contractions subsided and I went back to sleep for a while and came into work and still haven't gone into active labor yet. So, I guess I was right; I wasn't quite ready.
Brad and I have both gone through waves of nervousness the last few days. We're so prepared for this baby, yet we both keep thinking of more things to do to prepare. Last night I was picking out CDs I might possibly want to listen to while in labor and Brad was writing a grocery list of staples to stock up on and a whole litany of other errands to accomplish today. He's taking a page from my book and becoming a total busybody as the waiting gets more and more nerve-wracking.
My next exam is next Tuesday (the day after my due date) and if I haven't had the baby yet, then we're going to discuss when in the week or so after that we would induce. My doctor doesn't want me to go past 41 weeks and I'm not completely opposed to induction, if it should come to that. So one way or another, I have just a few days until motherhood is going to be my new reality. What a terrifying and thrilling thought.
T minus 12 days (but who's counting?)tag:www.smattery.com,2009://1.2572009-01-07T08:44:06Z2009-01-07T08:59:46ZNot that the due date means a whole lot, but since my doctor visits lately don't seem to indicate I'm on the verge of giving birth any day now, I'm thinking it'll be closer to my due date, or a...
less enjoyable after the baby is born. And honestly, I think I'd rather get up to do something helpful like take care of a baby than because I'm in terrible pain or feel like vomiting from the severe heartburn or have to go to the bathroom for the third or fourth time.
Oh, and did I mention I also have a cold?
I bet you all will be glad when this website isn't full of pregnancy-related whining.]]>
Happy New Yeartag:www.smattery.com,2008://1.2562008-12-31T16:59:43Z2008-12-31T17:46:45ZI thought I'd look back on some old entries from the end of 2007/beginning of 2008 to get an idea of how the last year wrapped up and what I thought might be in store for me this year. Two...
I hope 2008 is a year of being shaken out of my routine... in a good way.
And my resolutions from 2008, which I opted to call "goals" rather than resolutions, but they were basically resolutions:
- Bike a century (100 miles in one day).
- Run a 5K.
- Keep up with both this blog and Pink Argyle.
- Keep up with my photo-a-day project at least until I've done it for 365 days; then, hopefully, keep it up for the rest of 2008 so I will have done it for an entire calendar year.
- Finish paying off my student loans (that's an easy one; I'll be done in a couple of months), then use the extra money to do some home improvements and get our house ready to sell.
Well, I paid off my student loans and got some home improvements done, but selling our house is not going to be an option for the near future. I slacked on my photos and blogs. And the exercise goals were impossible because my entire spring and summer were overshadowed by pregnancy-related limitations.
But boy was I shaken out of my routine!
This time around, I can't even begin to contemplate what the new year will hold for me or what I'll try to get out of it. Mostly, I just have a lot of hope. Hope that my dad gets through the rest of his chemo/radiation without too much more trouble and that he's cancer-free after that. Hope that our daughter is healthy and that Brad and I adjust well to parenthood. Hope that the economy and our financial situation will turn around soon or that if it doesn't, we deal with it gracefully and competently. Despite feeling like all I ever do is complain about being pregnant, I can't express how grateful I am to be having this baby. I can't wait to finally meet her.]]>
First of all, there is nothing in the world as cute, endearing and awe-inspiring as your own offspring. I could (and do) spend hours doing nothing but running my hands over her strawberry-blond hair, tickling her toes, contemplating her perfect little ears, and gazing happily into her big blue eyes (when they're actually open).
Breastfeeding. In the first couple of weeks, I asked myself on an hourly basis if breastfeeding was really worth it. It is a huge commitment. In the beginning it's painful, it interferes with your sleep at a time when you really need to be recovering from the trauma of childbirth, and it's hard to get it right when the baby is new to it and you're new to it. Plus, there's the stress of wondering if the baby is getting enough to eat, especially before your mature milk comes in. Then the milk does come in and your breasts become engorged and you spend the next few days walking around with bags of frozen corn held to your throbbing boobs and doing damage control when milk starts squirting out of them at the sound of someone else's crying baby. And at times in the beginning I despaired because every time I held her, she rooted around and I felt like all I was to her was a milk cow.
But wait, I'm talking about how breastfeeding is a good thing? Turns out that after the first couple of weeks, Eva and I got the hang of it, it stopped being painful and feeding her has become the highlight of my day. There's no way to really describe the satisfaction of being able to give nourishment to my child with nothing but my body. And with each day that passes, she becomes more aware of her surroundings and of me and I can see that eating makes her happy. She's starting to realize when I pick her up and turn her belly towards mine, that she's going to get to eat and her eyes light up. She smiles and dives in, making happy sighs and grunts. It's an amazing feeling to not just be able to calm her down, but to be able to actually make her happy several times a day.
Today she paused in the middle of eating and pulled backwards just to gaze up at me and smile and I thought my heart would break from happiness.
Another good thing is that Eva really is a lovely baby during the day and she's very content in her car seat and stroller. In order to give her a chance to nap in the afternoon, we've been taking her out to various places almost every day. It's fantastic to be able to get out of the house and I've discovered how ridiculously proud I can feel when someone stops and coos over her. We've gone out nearly every day in the past couple of weeks and I realize that is something to be incredibly grateful for. I can't wait until it's warm enough to go for walks with her around the neighborhood.
Of course, there's also the fact that we're surrounded by friends and family who welcome her and love her. My family is incredibly supportive. My dad says that Eva is the best thing to happen to our family in a long time and as we look forward to two more rounds of chemotherapy for him, I'm glad that she can be a ray of light for my family.
In the past few days I've started to notice how much bigger she's getting and I've started to understand how parents could possibly be nostalgic for a baby's newborn stage. I'm seeing glimpses of the big chubby baby she will become and while I want to speed up time to a point where this will be easier, I also want to stop it and hold her tiny body in my arms forever.]]>
There are times I absolutely can't believe that Brad and I made this beautiful, silly, stubborn, curious and strong little girl.]]>
(more photos on Flickr)
Eva was born last Friday, the 16th, the day after I had posted about nothing much happening. In fact, when I look back on the timestamp on that entry, it was six hours before my water broke. Twenty hours later, we had an Eva. An itty bitty little peanut, 6 pounds 1.75 ounces and 19 inches long. She's now at about 5 pounds 13 ounces (a very reasonable amount of postpartum weight loss, we're told).
I never thought we'd have such a wee baby, especially given my hugeness during pregnancy and the difficulty of giving birth to her. But there she is, tiny and perfect.
