Perspective

My baby wears me out... Especially at night because getting up three or four times a night to feed him, change him,'or keep him company is rough.

But everytime I see him curled up sleeping, my heart melts and I realize that sleepless nights aren't so bad.

Sleeping Arrangements

My baby refuses to sleep on his back. He screams if we even think about not placing him on his stomach. This has led to awkward sleeping arrangements because we simply cannot allow him to sleep on his stomach due to the risk of SIDS.

So... My husband and I have assigned ourselves shifts: I watch Chipmunk from 8p-2a, and my husband does the 2a-7a shift.

Zack let's Chipmunk sleep ontop of his chest, and I swaddle him tightly and put him in the boppie between my and Zack's heads. When this arrangement failed to work, I have taken him to his own room or the living room and stayed up with him for most of the night.

Well, last night, we decided that I should do my shift while sleeping and holding Chipmunk in the recliner in our bedroom.... And this was a great idea because I and Chipmunk ended up sleeping straight from 8p to midnight.

When I woke up, I realized that he had drooled on my shirt... And I...

Had drooled in the top of his head.

*don't judge me... or my drooling baby*

All Things Come with Practice

The first week (or two) at home with Chipmunk was a learning experience to say the least.

I was pooped on and pee'd on... And so were my sofas.

Of course, my parents' and husband's explanations for these mishaps were that I moved too slow when changing his diaper. Needless to say, I got HELLA offended by their rationales because, unlike my husband, I didn't get all that hands-on training in the hospital because I was laid up after having had my abdomen sliced and pried open AND I was tripping from the pain medicine (which was later changed after realizing it was making me loopy and hot as hell).

Well, now...

I can change a poopy diaper... At 2:00am... In the dark... Without so much as a whimper from my baby...

Because I do it in NASCAR pit stop speed!

The only thing I have to do now is learn how to get him to go back to sleep because he has now sucked down another three ounces of milk, is climbing up my torso, and staring me in the face.

Out of Your Hands

The saying (and truth) goes... Babies come when they want. Some early, some late, some "on time".

That darned expected due date is just that... expected. I look back on my friends and their pregnancies and realize that only one (out of about five or six) gave birth on her due date. Three of us were early and one was late.

When I went to my doctors appointment that fateful Thursday, I had no clue at all that I'd be having my baby the next day. The news of my induction took my husband and I by surprise considering we had another two weeks and had planned accordingly (I had just gone to the grocery store and bought an army load of meat so that we'd be prepared to not cook when the baby came... in two weeks. All but the roast was spoiled when we returned home five days later.).

But with the knowledge of the fact that I wouldn't go into spontaneous labor, we celebrated our last pre-baby day eating all we wanted at the Cheesecake Factory (which seems to be our unofficial celebratory restaurant). Ironic enough... When we were seated at our booth, we realized that our wedding song was playing (By Your Side by Sade). Afterwards, we ran home; I got my eyebrows done and washed my hair and Zack cut his because we didn't want to look busted on any hospital pictures. We were only able to plan that much and nothing more. Everything after that was out of our hands.

We try to plan more now that he's here but guess what... All we can do is try.

*Happy Birthday, ZYG!!!*

Jealousy...

I will admit... After having carried Chipmunk for 9 months, I wanted him to look exactly like me and have my personality. I felt like that much was owed to me for carrying and having a baby.

Anyhoo... our kid looks just like his dad with the exception of my complexion and fingers and toes. I won't complain about him not looking like me because he's so... darn... cute and snuggly!

But dang!!!

Maybe he'll look like me as he gets older?

Lean, Mean, Pumping Machine

I pump every three to four hours because my body forces me to and to have a stash of milk in the fridge.

After reading some stuff on a baby app and on the Internet, I wondered if my milk supply would dry up because I wasn't nursing. If this happened, I'd have to resort to giving Charlie *gasp* formula. Don't get me wrong... I was raised on formula and have no bad feelings toward it, but it gives my baby THE WORST gas. We had to supplement in the hospital until my milk came in, and I thought my heart would break after every feeding when Chipmunk cried because of the discomfort.

It was in those formula moments that I decided to breastfeed no matter what it took. So now... I pump (because nursing usually feels like razor blades attacking my poor nipples)... I pump like my life depends on it.

And after nearly three weeks... I have just pumped my own personal best despite what those crazy people say on those apps and on the Internet... I just got *drum roll, please*



9 ounces!!!!!

That's three whole meals for Chipmunk!

Woo hoo!!!!!

All By Myself

Zack went back to work a few days ago, and my mom went home yesterday after being here for a few days.

So now... Its just me and Chipmunk.

Just between you and me... I cried after my mom left.

I held my sleeping baby and told him that mama was lonely but that we would both be ok. He responded by snuggling into my arms.