I’ve been thinking a lot over the past month what I wanted to write about our sweet Vivie Clare’s entrance into the world. The truth is, never has a birth been more planned and gone more on schedule. Aside from gestational diabetes for the third time (which I managed with diet and a lot of complaining), we literally pulled up into the circle drive of the hospital we were to deliver at, got out, checked in at 10 am, were prepped and ready by noon, and had the baby by 12:33 sharp. I was nervous this time, though – which I don’t remember being the case when the other two were born. It’s no secret my husband is not a fan of needles, so we called in a close friend to sit with me during the prep process – I needed someone to take my mind off all of the unknowns. Thank you, Casey, for not being squeamish and for being more than ok with all those TMI moments that truly make you friends for life. As I write this my hubby is off work this week playing Mr. Mom. And can I say, I could get used to this?? After having lunch with the girls this morning at Charlie’s school, he came home and swooped up the baby and Ella and is now taking the new Joovy for a spin. After a long night with a restless newborn and feeling a bit like a milk cow this morning, it’s so precious to have even an hour of silence and solitude – not having to be anything for anyone but myself.
So what have I learned in the last month? I’ve learned that caring for a newborn is serious business. Yes, I know, I’ve done this twice before, but it was almost 4 years ago and it is kind of amazing that we forget all of the unpleasantness of those early sleepless nights. And I have – forgotten a lot. How to swaddle, how to care for my c-section incision, how to take it easy and recover… I think the hardest part of all of this is giving myself grace and letting myself heal. I’m so ready to be back up and running. I’m so ready to get the rest of this baby weight off so I can wear my skinny jeans again. I’m so ready to not have to pack my wound with gauze and not feel like I’m tied to my recliner nursing 24-7. I say all of this, with the full knowledge and appreciation that Miss Vivian Clare is a really good baby. We had our first bout with some epic spit-up last night, but she generally only cries when she’s hungry, needs to be changed, or needs to burp. I’m loving all the little newborn noises, squeaks and toots. And how can you be mad at a baby that just wants to nuzzle into your neck and fall asleep? People told me that three kids is no joke, they were right. I can see down the road to the future of our family and I’m so excited at the thought of three little girlies running through our house, giggling and calling out each other’s names. The future looks bright, no doubt – but man, it is hard right now.
When my Mom was here for the first three weeks after V was born we had a handle on the dishes and the laundry. She runs a tight ship and I give her huge props. Now that she’s gone, those things have taken a bit of a backseat. I feel the need to apologize to those friends who stop by to see her – “excuse the mess” I say – knowing full well it doesn’t matter to them, nor should it matter to us. These first few months are really about surviving – did you know that I haven’t slept in my bed since I’ve been home from the hospital? I started sleeping upright in the recliner in our bedroom because of my incision and now it just seems normal to stay there, knowing every 3 hours I’m ending up there anyway. Nursing is going great – better than the first two times and it looks like we’re in it for the long haul – that is, if we can make it to that magical 6-8 week time period where everyone tells me it “gets SO much better!”. And I filled my prescription for my anti-depressant meds – so far so good on the baby blues but I do feel like there have been moments where I see that “dark night of the soul” at 3 am and it seems as though it won’t ever get any better. I know this is a lie, as I’ve lived it before – but nevertheless, my medication is at the ready for the time I feel it’s necessary. My friend Casey shared some truth with me after a particularly restless night –
Psalm 62: 5-8: 5 Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
my hope comes from him.
6 Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
7 My salvation and my honor depend on God[c];
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
8 Trust in him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.
Something about the middle of the night can feel so oppressive, even when you’re cradling a tiny baby and it doesn’t feel like you will ever crawl up out of the trenches again. Because that’s what we are, my hubby and I – war buddies. Wading through this thing called life and birth and learning to prop each other up when the other just can’t take a step further. So thankful for my team on the homefront. And so, so thankful for my “village” – because it really does take one when you’re a Mom, doesn’t it? So many thank you’s to write: help with pick up’s and drop off’s of the older two, giftcards left on our doorstep, tee tiny baby girl outfits gifted at the hospital, boxes of macarons and sweet treats brought by and sent in the mail, baskets of baby goodies given to my girl and let’s not even start on the meals – as I’m quite sure the warmth and deliciousness of what’s been brought by our house these last few weeks has literally kept us going. And that’s just the beginning, just our Texas “village” – that’s not including the texts, calls, gifts and love that’s come from our village up in the Windy City. God is good, all the time!
Thank you to my friends for everything – you have made this transition easier and your thoughtfulness has touched our hearts deeply. I’m quite certain that once our girl is sleeping longer stretches at night and (gasp!) has been moved upstairs to her own room, we will feel human again. Until then, we are trying to give each other A LOT of grace and know that if the house doesn’t get cleaned and the girls watch a bit too much TV this month, it will all be ok. It will get better. To all my first-time Mom friends – it WILL get better. Take heart that you are not the first, or the last to walk this road of newborn bewilderment. And keeping this tiny human alive for a month? Well, give yourself a pat on the back because that truly is a feat! It’s awesome and something to celebrate, for sure.
