August 16th, 2007
Last night was a rough one. At 9 PM I started crying and couldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried. I cried all over Tucker and then Murray and I would have cried all over Pookum but she’s too grumpy right now. And then I thought about Schmitty and that was pretty much the end of that. I was sobbing. The cats have become the objects representing all my potential failures and the beings that remind me that I am unable to control everything. Tobyjoe holds me every night and says things like, “You’re just like everyone else only you’ve lost the ability to hide it. This will pass. Know that it will pass but let it out in the meantime.” He’s a saint, that one.
And right now I feel fine, rejuvenated, ready for the day, happy even. This is hard, motherhood. It’s hard letting go of being pregnant, letting go of my independence. It’s hard letting go of the past – all 33 years of it. This is the first time that my life has actually changed forever and entirely. I don’t want to go back to the way it used to be – wouldn’t trade this for the world. I have a beautiful baby boy now but I’m in mourning. It’s impossible not to be.
We watched Mythbusters last night and I started to cry because I used to watch Mythbusters every day during the third trimester. Murray and I would sit there, he’d be next to me or on my great big belly and we’d watch TV and I would bitch about being fat and immobile. I’ve been doing the, “Last week at this time” or “Last month at this time” a lot lately, which is a sure sign that I’m depressed but it’s also a sign that I’m recovering. I guess I just need a little overlap.
The good news is, I lost 23 pounds in 7 days. I have 8 more pounds to lose in order to get back down to my pre-pregnancy weight and then 10 pounds after that because I want to feel thin again. Oh, and my ankles are back.
(Excuse the sock marks. I’m still a bit parched from all this bloody pumping.)
Here is how they looked in the hospital. Sadly, I do not have a shot without my shoes and socks on. They were insanely huge. And they hurt like hell.
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August 15th, 2007
I’ve been trying to breastfeed for about 5 days. (Emory turned one week old at 4:05 AM.) I’m trying to get things going. It’s been a slow process. The hardest part is that I have no idea how much milk should eventually come out. I’ve been pumping. The pump helps because I am able to keep track of how much comes out in a certain amount of time but it doesn’t seem like that much yet. I can get about 2.5 ounces in about 15 minutes and then things die out substantially. The flow slows to almost nothing. Is this normal? Isn’t it supposed to be really strong eventually? There is no way, at this rate, I’d be able to support the little guy on my own. Well, that’s not entirely true, I might be able to, but he’d have to stay awake for hours and hours on end and I’d have to breastfeed him around the clock. I’m still having to supplement at least two feedings during a 24-period with Enfamil.
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August 14th, 2007
Emory is slowly being weaned off of formula and moved entirely over to breast milk. Unfortunately, we were forced to try formula during the first 48 hours of life due to some problems that arose after he was born. (A post for a later date.) Well, the formula seems to have an appealing smell to our beloved Myrtle Man. I’ll finish a bottle and Murray will sneak over, steal the thing from the dresser/table, whatever, and bring it to his den. Yesterday, I had my mother hold it up to see what would happen.
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August 13th, 2007
There’s so much to write, I don’t even know where to begin. And I’m going to wait on all the glorious birthing details because it’s just such a massively long story, I’m currently trying to come up with a way in which to share it all without having it turn into one, really long post. It might take me a while to finish, but I need to do this because in time I’m certain my memory will fade and I simply must hold onto this one. It’s far too important to let age, diminish, and crumble.
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August 8th, 2007
He’s healthy and happy. Seven pounds, twelve ounces. Born at 4:05 am on August 8, 2007.
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August 4th, 2007
Updates at bottom of post
I had my 40-week check-up yesterday. The nurse took my blood pressure. It was high. She didn’t seem too alarmed. I was very alarmed. I don’t mean to brag, (like I have any say in it at all) but all of my life I have had a blood pressure that has been greeted with responses like, “I wish I had your blood pressure.” Words like “beautiful” and “amazing” have been tossed around as well. So getting a high reading all of a sudden, 39 and 6 days into an otherwise fairly solid pregnancy, was alarming. I said something. She said, “Well, it’s not uncommon for this to happen late in pregnancy but if you’re nervous, ask the doctor about it.”
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August 2nd, 2007
Tobyjoe is a heavy sleeper. He’s not so bad in the middle of the night. At night, I am able to wake him up without too much of a problem. It’s the morning that this feat fairs difficult. He’s just not a morning person.
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August 1st, 2007
Toby and I have had some serious problems with our Internet access lately. And I wasn’t going to write about it, but I’m so frustrated, so annoyed with how things have been dealt with by Time Warner Cable (Road Runner) I can’t hold back any longer. And whatever insight people might have, whatever ideas come to mind, I’ll take them all.
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