- Little Owen [or Baby, as we call him] has been out in the world for eleven whole days, and of those eleven whole days I can only remember about four of them. One was the day he was born, one was the day we came home from the hospital, one was the day I couldn’t stop crying, not even long enough to pee or call my mother, and one was the day the Steelers won. I think that was yesterday.
- All my fun parts are still in pain, but feeling much better day by day, and today I can sit down on an actual chair without using any padding. That’s pretty cool. And the whole ‘labor amnesia’ thing is already kicking in, and I can contemplate making a brother or sister for Owen without shrieking.
- Breastfeeding, it turns out, is a horrible horrible joke babies play on mommies. It’s also the reason I can remember the Day of Crying so clearly. I wanted desperately to feed my baby, who was hungry and dependent on me for food, but my poor abused nipples were chapped, bleeding, blistered, and painful to the touch. Each time he wanted to eat, I had to bite my lip and sob through the pain, which didn’t seem like the warm cuddly atmosphere La Leche League nazis like to promote. But we’ve got a temporary solution, which is for me to pump every two hours, and have Iain feed him with a bottle. Mommy gets to heal, baby gets to eat, Daddy gets to feed baby AND watch playoff football at the same time: Everybody wins.
- Lucky for us the camera has a one-gig memory card, because the only other thing we do besides eat, sleep and feed is take pictures. Owen has been smiling in his sleep for about a week now, maybe more, and if you stare real hard you’ll catch him smiling when he’s awake, too. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world, a big gummy gaping smile. It makes all the pain and fatigue and frustration and peed-upon bedding disappear.
- Speaking of peed-upon bedding: This little guy is a regular fountain. Just wait til he’s old enough to stand; he’ll be writing entire speeches in the snow without using his hands.
- Just now realized that motherhood means you can find pride in ANYTHING your child does.
- Just now realized that I’m a mother. Whole thing still kind of sinking in … half-expecting his parents to come home, give me a twenty and thank me for babysitting.