Butt Kicking

Today is day 2 of staying home with a feverish sick baby. After last night, my butt is officially kicked. She slept for about three hours. And that three hours was sandwiched between hours of crying.

And the crying was because she was hungry but she couldn’t nurse. I kept trying and trying but she couldn’t breathe through her stuffed nose.

We have the humidifier running constantly at night. I don’t know that it actually works anymore.

So I tried saline drops and the snot sucker. No dice. I tried more drops and the Nose Frida. No dice. I need 8 eight hands to use that thing. She’s strong enough to push mine away.

Scream, cry, cry. Repeat.

I rocked and rocked. Tried to half-swaddle her (just her arms). This usually works when she’s upset but she was also hungry. And I couldn’t feed her. She won’t take a bottle from me. I tried that the night before last.

So we rocked. She cried. Her nose finally cleared enough for her to nurse back to sleep. And three hours later, she woke up feverish.

More Motrin. More saline drops. More snot sucker and Nose Frida. Angry baby. Rock rock rock.

Then The Mister came in with his magical baby dust, made her a bottle, and she went back to sleep.

Momma out.

Still Stunned

Having a baby still stuns me.
Mostly when I look in the mirror while holding her.
And her little face is just grinning away.
She’s grinning at herself of course.
And maybe her second momma reflecting back at her too.
The momma holding her is still amazed that’s she’s here.
Out of 24 eggs, she’s the only one that made it.
She’s the only one.

Making babies is miraculous no matter which way it happens. Conceiving without the aid of modern medicine has a 25% chance every month for healthy fertile couples. Conceiving via IVF renders a 40-45% chance for couples in their late 20s, early 30s.

Either way, there’s still a huge chance that pregnancy won’t happen.

I still remember the doctor telling me after the transfer of our one embryo, after he’d sandwiched it in between what he called the peanut butter layers, that what happens next they don’t know. They don’t know what happens between transfer and implantation.

They (the medical community) don’t know.

So I went with a miracle. A miracle happens.

A miracle.

And then we saw her little heartbeat fluttering away at the 7 week ultrasound. We saw it again at 9 weeks.

And heard her whoosh-whoosh at 12 weeks.

A miracle for sure.

 

Being seven months

Our happy little crab! I hope everyone had a safe Halloween last night. Little miss decided her only nap of the should start at 2:15. She slept till after 4:30 so we missed trick or treating downtown. She’s seven months. I don’t think it phased her.

In other news, baby girl is seven months old! Didn’t I JUST go into labor yesterday?? How have seven-plus months passed already? She is a crawling standing machine these days. No teeth yet but man do her gums ache. Poor babe. She’s eating like a champ though. We have cereal (oatmeal + rice combo) plus a fruit/veg purée twice a day. She likes applesauce but avocado and egg yolk are off the list for now. She still nursing and has bottles I pump at daycare. Daddy will give her a formula bottle a few times a week and sometimes she gets formula at daycare. I’m pretty sure with all this eating she’s well over 17 pounds now. Still petite but we’re slowly making our way into 9 month clothes.

Last week was a rough week. I’m having all kinds of mixed feelings about being a working mom. Even though I’m part-time this year, I’m planning to pick up AP classes next year and be full time again. That’s my teacher’s heart. My mom heart just wants to stay home and watch her attack her stuffed kitty and sheep all day and nurse her whenever she needs me. I feel like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde. (And I’m sure The Mister would agree that I act that way sometimes too.) it’s just all very overwhelming and emotional combined with my memory still being complete crap. My scatterbrained tendencies right now are driving me nuts. I know getting fractured sleep every night doesn’t help. Sometimes I can get a nap in but usually not till the weekend. Ah… To have a night of uninterrupted sleep. I’m not sure I’d know what to do with myself.