We've been home with Meera for one week now as a family of five (or, as my college roommate Jen called it -- a "Party of Five" -- Hi Jen! I love that--- "Party of Five"). The week has gone better than I had expected, especially since having a c-section. But I wouldn't go so far as to say the week has been entirely a "party" per se. ;0 Meera is an awesome baby. I had prayed and prayed for a mellow baby and I am giving thanks that --- so far at least, knock on wood --- I seem to have received what I prayed for. Meera and I are nursing well, which is what I'm most grateful for. I had read three breastfeeding books cover to cover during my pregnancy and talked to as many of my friends as possible about it. I was more worried about breastfeeding than I was about labor/delivery. I worked hard with Meera (and the breastfeeding specialists) those first few days in the hospital and I've got to say -- it has all paid off. Still, being confined to a chair and nursing for hours on end (it often feels like that's all I'm doing 24x7) is not exactly my style. It is hard for me to sit still, let alone for soooooo much of the day/night (I am not a sit-still person). But alas, that's life with a nursing newborn. It is what it is. Meera sleeps well, and when she is awake Meera is calm, cool, and contented most of the time. The only exception seems to be when I eat potato chips. I've eaten them twice in the past week--- with horrible results in Meera's demeanor. This is a huge bummer, since I love potato chips. I had tried to not eat them much during my pregnancy (I worked so hard to eat healthy), and was so looking forward to indulging in them post-delivery. But eating them is definitely not worth the fussies/crankies/screaming fits that come as the consequence. So, no more chips for me... at least not for a good while. Meera is amazingly good at putting up with her brothers' antics. They hug her too tight and hold her too much and slobber her with kisses too often and zerbert her belly with way too much gusto (not to mention cover her butt with layer upon layer of "bum bum cream" at diaper changes). They also bang their drums and blow their trumpets while marching circles around her ("Marching Band! For Baby Meera!!!!!"), and they yelp and scream and shout and sing and have tantrums without any respect for a newborn infant in the house. Meera takes it all in stride. Thank God. She can sleep through just about anything --including twin 4 year olds banging the piano within 2 feet of her downstair's crib. It is quite something to see actually. Really. Anyway, she's a dang good baby. Most of the time. I have my post-pregnancy-hormonal, deeply-sleep-deprived, c-section-recovering moments of watery blubbery slobbery meltdowns a couple times a day... sobbing and crying in Braydon's arms in total despair (sometimes because I just can't fathom how on earth we're going to manage all of this... and sometimes because I am just overwrought with adoration for this precious new little being in my arms). Braydon is a rock and handles it perfectly. He also is really good at burping the baby (she needs to burp a lot). He also has been a MASTER at keeping K & O busy, happy, and pre-occupied so as to give the baby girl space to just be with her Mama for some chunks of time each day. I'd say that overall, it is all good. Delirious (both in the good sense and the bad sense), but overall... good.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Posted by Heather at 9:30 AM