Disgruntled Wife*

I told Jesse today that I could never be a stay at home mom. 

The thing is, it has nothing to do with Emerson.  I love taking care of her, especially now that we've figured each other out.  I know how she likes to be held (facing out, against my chest); I know that hiccups make her mad and how to soothe them (walk, walk, walk!); I know that she's going to get fussy in the afternoon taking her outside usually helps); I know to expect lots of dirty diapers, burping and spit up, and moments of smiles.  I could definitely spend every day with her.

It's the housework!  I cannot stand being the only person in charge of laundry, dishes, cleaning, cooking, etc. (I can just imagine the number of women out there laughing as they read this because, stay at home or not, you're responsible for all of these things as it is.) Before Emerson, Jesse and I shared the household duties.  Granted, we had less laundry, we ate out more often, and our house went a little longer between cleanings, but still, it was a mutual responsibility.  Now I feel as if, rightfully so, it is my job.  After all, Jesse is rarely home and when he is, I like for him to be able to grab a nap and spend time with Emerson.  So in the hours that Emerson spends sleeping, I rush around taking care of the house.  I'm exhausted! :)

Last night, after enjoying a homecooked meal made by me, Jesse tells me he has to run.  He had to work.  Fine!  I'll cook and clean! I said.  Just go!  He laughed.  He asked if I was going to start a blog called "Disgruntled Wife." 

No, Jesse, not a whole blog.  Just a post. 

Now I gotta run - the dryer just beeped and the trash needs taking out. :)

Emerson's smile

Hello blog readers.  Meet Emerson's smile.

If you are anything like Emerson's Mommy and Daddy, you have an incredible urge to do whatever it takes to keep that smile around.  You may find yourself dancing around the room.  You may find yourself singing in an unusually high voice.   You may find yourself making choo choo noises over and over until that train has traveled the world.  But I've warned you.

And it will be incredibly worth it.

I first saw this smile when Emerson was six weeks old.  I was going to meet Jesse for lunch and I had just put Emerson in her carseat.  I asked her - in a high-pitched, sing-song voice, if she was ready to go see Daddy.  And she smiled (I took that as a yes!).

Since then, she has smiled more and more.  As a matter of fact, if she's awake and not grunting from gas, she's probably smiling. 

And there's probably someone nearby acting like a fool - and loving it.

Nursing

Before I even got pregnant, I knew that I wanted to nurse my children but it was not an easy decision.  I wasn't completely "sold" - and, from what I'd heard, I needed to be sold in order to stick with it.  So I attended a nursing class and researched all the benefits, and by the time Emerson was born, I was sold.  After actually seeing her little face, that dedication deepened even further - I wanted whatever was absolutely best for her. 

But man oh man, was nursing a challenge at first!  For something that is so natural, it can be extremely difficult.  I stated from the beginning that I wanted to use this blog to teach others about pregnancy, and this, I feel, is an important lesson.  Nursing is rewarding, incredible, important, beneficial - but it is probably the most challenging thing I faced in awhile (and dealing with it while struggling with post-pregnancy hormones doesn't help!).

While your baby is born knowing that you can feed her, she is not born with the innate ability to actually get the milk.  She has to learn how, and Mama does too.  And that process can be painful.  It was for me.  In addition, your life is suddenly scheduled in 2 hour increments.  Emerson ate every three hours and it took me an hour to nurse her so I was sleeping for two hours at a time and, during the day, rushing to fit in as much as possible in two hour spans.  I could no longer be spontaneous.  My family went out to eat for my dad's birthday but I couldn't go because it was during Emerson's time to eat. 

In the end, nursing was physically and emotionally difficult and draining. Everyone told me it would get better.  We'd figure it out.  Don't give up.

And you know what?  They were right.  Seven weeks later, Emerson and I have figured it out.  She eats much quicker.  She's starting to eat wait 4 hours between sessions instead of 3.  As I stated in a previous post, I've learned how to nurse in public.  And best of all, there is absolutely no pain.  Instead, I'm enjoying the rewarding part - the knowledge that I am providing absolutely everything Emerson needs.  And only I can.

That's another rewarding part of nursing.  When she is hungry, only I can feed her.  When she got her immunization shots, only I could soothe her.  I have no doubt it is one of the main reasons Emerson can already find me in a crowd and can recognize my voice.

And there may be another, slightly selfish, reason to continue nursing - the weight loss!  I am already almost at my pre-pregnancy weight.  Someone recently told me they couldn't tell I'd ever had a baby.  This is a great feeling, especially after feeling so fat and bloated for months! 

I would encourage anyone to try nursing.  It is by far the most incredible thing you can do for your baby.  But be prepared for tears and struggles.  Call people to help you through it.  And most importantly, don't give up. 

Changes

When you are pregnant with your first child, people like to frequently remind you that your life is about to change forever.  I'm assuming they are talking about the lack of sleep, the lack of time, the happiness of holding a baby, etc.  The changes everyone anticipates.  However, I have noticed many other changes in myself and in my life since having a baby.  Here are just a few:

Bye Bye Modesty - Okay to be fair, I was warned specifically about this one, but I doubted it.  I have always been very modest and people always told me I'd get over that after having a baby.  I had no idea.  In the past week, I have pulled my shirt up and nursed my baby outside at the Country Club and inside the middle of Macy's.  What baby wants, baby gets. 

Definition of 'clean' - Emerson likes to spit up.  She spits up while I'm holding her sweetly on my chest.  She spits up while I'm holding her upright in my lap.  She spits up at any given moment.  I can literally not change clothes every time the baby decides to taste her milk for a second time.  I'd have no clothes.  Clean clothes, to me, have become clothes that are not, well, noticeably stained in baby spit up. 

Cheering on the Gas - Never in a million years did I think I'd ever cheer over gas.  But I do.  Daily.  My poor baby has severe gas that causes her to roll up in a ball, turn red, and grunt in pain.  It kills me to see this.  So every time this happens, I push on her legs and cheer her on.  "You can do it!  Push it out!" I say in a soothing yet supportive voice.  Then, when she does finally get some release, I smile and proclaim, "Good girl!  You did it!".  I literally am a cheerleader for passing gas. 

Whirlwind - I have always admired my mom's ability to clean an entire house, balance a checkbook, cook a meal, and wash 4 loads of laundry...in 30 minutes.  I am in awe sometimes watching her work.  But I'm starting to figure out how she got that way.  When Emerson finishes nursing, I know that I have about 2 hours before she'll want me again.  So I turn into a whirlwind.  I immediately prioritize everything I want done and then move quickly to do as many as possible in a short amount of time.  Shower, check.  Makeup? That can wait.  Laundry first.  Coffee?  Definitely.  Drying my hair?  Nah.  It can air dry.  Get dressed?  Oh yeah, that might be necessary. Dust. Take out the trash.  Oh wait, eat.  Go, go, go!  If this continues, I may get to the point where I can finish half of what my mom can do ... in twice the time!

Of course, there are other changes.  I magically survive off of very little sleep.  I rarely get to hug my husband.  It is a challenge to go to Wal-Mart or McDonald's.  I have one priority and that is my baby.  But those are changes you expect.  The others have taken me totally by surprise.

Guilt

One of the things I liked most about pregnancy was that it was nine months cf ompletely without guilt (unusual for a people pleasing Catholic girl like me!).  If I wanted dessert, I ordered it and no one judged me.  If I wanted a nap, I took one - and people encouraged me to do so.  If I didn't have the energy to cook supper for my husband, he completely understood.  In every aspect of life, I put my needs first and was rewarded for doing so.

Life as a new mom is the exact opposite.  I feel like the nine months of guilt has come crashing down all at once.  Everyone seems to be experts on motherhood except me (although sometimes I wonder if these experts have forgotten the struggles they experienced in the first few weeks) and they are full of advice on how to make it work.  While the advice helps, it makes me feel guilty if I don't follow it.  People say not to hold a baby too much because she won't learn to sleep on her own. So when Emerson is keeping us up at night fussing in her sleeper, and I pick her up, I do so with guilt.  Rarely do I sit and hold her without feeling like I shouldn't be.  Then again, if I leave her crying, I feel guilty for deserting her and for keeping Jesse awake.  After all, some books say that you can't spoil newborns - they just want to know that you are there for them.  Now Emerson has developed colic and that's brought on different feelings of guilt.  At first I wondered if it was something I ate.  Or is it because I can't get her to burp?  Or is she not latching on correctly?  And because of her colic, the only way she can sleep comfortably is on our chests or in her swing.  Guilt again.

My best friend, Emily, said something the other day that illuminated why I feel so much guilt and why I shouldn't be.  She looked at me and said, "You don't have to be perfect.  You just have to be her mama."  She knows me too well.  I want to be perfect.  I want the baby who is on a routine, who sleeps on her own in her sleeper, through the night.  She is perfectly healthy, gaining weight regularly, and smiling through the day.  I let those expectations get the best of me instead of just relaxing, doing the best I can, and remembering - all Emerson needs right now is to know that her Mama is here....

It's difficult being a new mom.  And honestly, I feel guilty even saying that.

Labor - how it all begins

When I started this blog, I said one reason was to teach people about pregnancy.  Strangely enough, very soon after I gave birth, I thought about this blog and knew I wanted to write a post teaching people about labor and delivery. The entire time I was pregnant, labor loomed over me like a bee that would not state its sting (shout out to Emily Dickinson there - anyone catch it?).  And why was I so scared?  Because I had no idea what to expect (except pain...lots of pain).  And as humans, we fear the unknown.  So maybe I can take away some of that fear for those of you out there who have yet to experience this miracle by telling you a little more about what to expect.  Of course, just like pregnancy, every woman's experience is unique, but maybe it will help to hear one person's perspective.

One of my first questions was - how will I know I'm in labor?  By the 9th month of pregnancy, I felt contractions frequently, so I didn't understand how I'd know when it was The Contractions.  Moms told me, "You'll know."  And they were right.  You do know.  And here's why - at that point, you have become so in tune with your body.  Every ache and movement has captured your attention for months so when a new one arrives, you know immediately.  I did.  It was 1:30 a.m. and I woke up to go to the bathroom.  Soon after, I told Jesse I thought I felt a contraction.  About 10 minutes later, I felt another.  And so it began.

So what next?  You're not supposed to go to the hospital until your contractions are 5 minutes apart and mine were not regularly spaced out at all.  So what do you do?  Jesse and I went into go mode.  We literally hopped out of bed and starting working.  He emptied the litter box.  I emailed lesson plans.  He ran the dishwasher.  I called my mom.  The entire time, he was timing my contractions and we looked at each other in excitement and fear. 

Sidenote - Around 3 am, we decided to go for a walk.  On Spalding Ave.  Yes, we're insane.  But I'd been told that walking will push labor along...so, we started down the street.  And ended up walking to my parents' house.  They were wide awake, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their next grandchild.

So what do contractions feel like?  In the beginning, they aren't totally painful, it's just like bad cramps.  Of course, they intensify but it is manageable at first.

Around 7 am, we finally went to the hospital.  10 hours later, 16 hours after labor began, Emerson was born.  I'll leave out the rest of the details.  But I will say it wasn't near as bad as I expected it to be.  And as all Mamas say - once they put the baby on your chest, you forget the rest of it anyway.

It's a Girl!!

Emerson Jo Osbourne has arrived!  Technically, she arrived two weeks ago but I'm just now rested enough to formulate a complete sentence, so here's the belated announcement.  :)

Emerson was born on Friday, April 22nd, at 4:38 pm.  She was 10 days early and weighed only 6 lbs 8.5 oz.  She was born on Good Friday and Earth Day (Ralph Waldo would be proud).  It had rained all day - and rained for days and days afterwards - but Emerson was born during the brief moment of sunshine that day.

We chose the middle name in the middle of labor.  Drugged up on pain medication, I suddenly looked up at Jesse through half-opened eyes and said, "If she's a girl, we have to name her Jo..."  He leaned down and said, "Okay..." with a question in his eyes.  Then I explained:  it's Easter weekend...a holiday very important to me and my grandmother, Mama Jo (explanation will follow)... it's a sign.  As tears streamed down both of our faces - and my mother's, who was on my other side - he agreed.  And, of course, she was a girl, as we both thought all along, and so we had our Emerson Jo.

You see, my grandmother was a child at heart, especially when it came to holidays.  Every Easter, she would make the adults have an Easter egg hunt.  One year, I hid easter eggs all over her house after our hunt.  For a year later, I'd receive phone calls from her after she'd found yet another egg stashed away in a random tupperware bowl or suitcase.  After that, we'd hide or gift Easter eggs to each other at random times, and when she passed away, I stashed an egg in her casket (I guess I got the last laugh). 

All of this hit me in the middle of labor - that and the fact that I'd already covered Emerson's nursery in frogs, which she collected - and I realized this baby was being born with a ready made guardian angel.  Who was I to fight it?  It had to be Jo.  And so, it is.  Emerson Jo.  It's perfect, just like her.

Stay tuned for details on labor... restless nights... and the rest that has happened in the past two weeks!