I think we need an exorcism.

When my mom was here visiting she asked me if Emily had ever thrown up, or if it was all spit up.

I told her I had no idea, and I wondered to myself if there was even much of a difference?  She's definitely spit up a ton at certain times, and at others it's just a little.

But today was different.  She went through six outfits today.

Today was a learning experience.  If her normal spit up amount is a lizard then today's was GODZILLA.

The story:

She's laying on a pillow in front of me and had just finished her bottle.  All of a sudden she made some fussy noises and then it EXPLODED OUT OF HER.  As if she was possessed.  Seriously people.  She soaked herself, she soaked me, she soaked through the blankets on the bed.  It was a fountain of milk.  It was not pretty.

So yeah Mom, she's thrown up.  Projectile.  On me.

Her Own Agenda

Tonight was bath night for Emily.

David was in charge of it as I'm kind of sick.

So he gets her in the bath and she gets all cleaned. I hand him her towel and as ge exits the bathroom with her she pees on him.

So back in the tub she went.

This next time they made it to her changing table where she spit up all over her bare neck and chest - it got into fat rolls. Once clean fat rolls.

This time she was baby wiped.

After a clean outfit was on, David picked her up and she promptly spit up again all over them both. I guess she didn't like being clean.

Emily has her own agenda.

Sunday Grunts

Fair Warning- this is another loopy post due to the effects of Percocet in my system.

Today is Sunday.

And what a Sunday it was!!

Last night David offered to take Emily for the whole night! I was very happy to oblige him.  I'm not sure I even fake protested....  When that happens my night goes like this:  I go to bed at 10.  I play on my phone for an hour just because I can, then I sleep until one when I wake up and pump.  I sleep again until 4 when I wake up and pump, and again at 7.  Then by 9 am David has come in to drop off Emily so he can get a solid block of sleep.

To a lot of people that isn't a happy night.  Waking up 3 times for 45 minutes each time when the baby is being taken care of by someone else? Crazy I know.  But the ladies just don't let me go longer, they wake me up and are ready to pop by then.  (Normally I pump every 2 hours but I allow myself the extra bit at night).

Now, the stipulation for a whole night alone is that David can ask for help at any time.  Last night I fell asleep at 1030, woke up at 1230, woke up at 430 and then again at 515 when David came in, unceremoniously put Emily on my pillow and gave me a pleading look that said "Help me my wonderful wife because our child has kept me awake too much."   Being the gracious wife that I am I smiled and told him to go get some rest.  And thus began my day. 

Emily was given to me because she was grunting.  Now, I'm not sure if I've said this yet but she is not a cooing baby- she's a grunting baby.  She grunts and growls (and if she started barking I wouldn't even blink) and yells and occasionally cries but she's only ever coo'ed a handful of times.  She coos all day long and sometimes even when she sleeps.  Which was the case.  She grunted as David handed her to me and proceeded to grunt loudly enough to keep me awake for the next two hours.  At 615 my alarm went off.  Which was wrong because it was set for 715.  And I thought, maybe that's because it was daylight savings today? Nope.  Couldn't be that reason because of two things: 1. My iPhone updated itself to the right time all on its own  and 2. We went forward an hour. Which means that my head said it was 515 and my phone was just stupid.  =)

Anyway, I pumped, fed the baby, took a shower (which she mercifully slept through), got dressed and then woke David at 745 for church.  While he "hit the snooze" (because yes I am that nice) I picked up Em to wash her hair at the sink so she wouldn't be greasy for her adoring fans.  She slept as I picked her up, slept as I wet down her hair, slept as I washed and dried it and only woke when I changed her diaper with a cold wipe.   And then she grunted/whined at me.  

We made it to church on time. 9 am.  Unfortunately I cannot say the same for half the congregation.  There were quite a few empty seats that filled slowly throughout the service.  Emily spent the entire time grunting loudly- everyone around us kept turning to her and giggling at us.  David tried to stifle her a bit with the binky but the grunting comes from her throat and she just grunts anyway with the bink in.

During Sunday school she grunted.    A lot.  One of the ladies named her the "grunty baby."  It is both funny and mildly embarrassing.  But hey, what can you do?  No guilt here.  (Guilt- that's my next post someday).

During Relief Society she was finally in the arms of her adoring fans.  She fell asleep in my lap and as another woman sat down she commented on how beautiful Em was and how much she loved her hair (that's Em's biggest compliment, her fantastic hair).  I offered the let her hold the baby and she jumped at the chance.  The moment Emily was in this woman's lap, she decided to fart.  

Seriously.

We had just spent TWO hours annoying the world and the she just lets one rip right on a woman who has been very nice to us.  This woman just laughed, as did BOTH rows around us.  And everyone spent the first ten minutes of the lesson ignoring what was happening and smiling at Emily instead.   That baby sure played it up.  She showed off how she holds her head so well.  She did her cute "I'm yawning" face and noises.  She grunted and groaned and yelled for her admirers.  She even spit up a little and had everyone remembering when their babies did that.  

I'm telling you, this kid is a ham.

Speaking of, what in the world does that even mean? Does a ham purposefully attract attention?

So she grunted for three hours this morning.  Grunted through three hours of church, and then grunted all afternoon at my friend S's house.

S hosted us and another couple over today for an adult/child/infant CPR and first aid class taught by her mother's husband.  He is a very nice man named A.  A is an EMT and teaches this class all the time, but never for free like he did for us.  It was a lot of fun, and was nice and relaxed.  So relaxed in fact that we were there from 2 until 7pm.  The three hour class took five, but that was just fine.  Except for Emily and her grunting.  She grunted through the only two bottles that I brought.  She grunted when anyone held her. She grunted in the swing.  She grunted at the floor.  She grunted at the couch.  And when she was hungry again she grunted at my boob- and then spit up all over it.

She is currently in her bassinet downstairs with David, grunting in her sleep.

And I am upstairs.  And about to have a lovely three hour sleep while he takes the first shift.  Extra lovely from my medicine I had to take because all of those CPR chest compressions brought back my shoulder pain (tendonitis really really SUCKS and doesn't seem to ever go away).  The shoulder has been flaring up the last couple weeks, probably from carrying the goober around all the time.  Yesterday I cleaned the house (not only is my house clean, my kitchen is now SANITARY.  that's right, eat your hearts out.  No really, go for it because it's only going to stay this way for another week or so).  That scrubbing made my shoulder sore but today really did me in.  Speaking of, I need to let it rest and typing this very long post cannot be helping it.  

So I shall say Adieu.

Or Achoo.

They're rather similar in my opinion.

I never can hear the word Adieu without thinking of the Sound of Music and that song the whole family sings- "So long, farewell.... Adieu Adieu to you and you and youuuuu.....  Gooood byeeeee"

I can't believe how fast time is going. Emily is bigger already. She is no longer able to fit in preemie clothes, and the newborn size actually fits. If she was a little fatter it would be a perfect fit.

Motherhood is a giant learning experience and I'm very far out on the learning curve- the last baby in my family is 16 (17?) and in High school. Thus my experience is limited. Through photography and friends I can handle kids ( also through stint at Disney world) but newborns round the clock are a different matter.

Recent discoveries:
- a baby might cry for no reason and getting upset helps no one.
- letting her cry is okay sometimes but...
- I can't handle her crying if we try to put her to sleep in a crib
- I like co-sleeping, it's a great feeling to cuddle the entire night. Plus...
- she's a little heater and it's cold downstairs. It's a bonus.
- pumping and giving her a bottle is totally fine. I am not a lesser mom for it. In fact, I commend myself for still trying. Because pumping is quite the time sucker
- I like my bigger boobs. It's just a fact. :)
- Watching her sleep is super fun, listening to her snore is even better
- Bath time is my favorite time. I get the best smelling fluffy haired baby in the whole world after her bath.
- When her hair is wet it's curly. I think she looks like my dad then.
- Emily hates it when I pick her nose. I'm obsessed and do it anyway. Crusty Boogers are not an option.
- I'll never have enough photos of her.
- Who knew I'd be so familiar with everything about her? I can practically draw her ears from memory.
- I have learned the difference between the lonely/tired/hungry/scared noises she makes.
- a few days ago she coughed milk up and shot it out her nose. That was a scared cry, it freaked her out but made me giggle.
- I can feed her in my sleep. With a bottle. I've woken up with an empty bottle in hand and a very faint recollection of feeding her. But the best sleep feed is breastfeeding. Just attach and fall back to sleep. She doesn't really need help with that one.


Emily's nicknames are a vast array of words.
There's...
Emily
Em
Emmabean - Davids name
Emmabear - mine
Sugar bear - mine
Little sugar
Goober
Goobey
Goobs
Sweetie
Honey
Honeybear
Baby
Baby girl
Little bit- her Hana
Peanut- her Grandpa D
Girly whirl- Grandma
Bambino- Great grandpa pawpaw
Sock hands- Uncle Mike
Pookie
Pookie bear
Stinky
Stinky butt
Poopy McPooperson
Snotty McSnoterson

I'm sure the list will continue to grow.
I'd add more photos but I'm using my phone to write this and blogger won't let me. :(

Another time then!




-

She has a lot of hair

It's 3 am...

You may ask yourself how motherhood is working out for me.  You also may not, so this is not the post for you.

Let me describe my current situation.  I'm typing this at 3 am after my longest sleep I'll get all night (a HUGE thank you to my amazing husband for taking the 1230 shift each night.)- about 4 hours.  I'm typing one handed as Emily just fell asleep in my arms after a very eventful poop.  I'm loopy after taking percocet (gotta love narcotics) to fend off a gallbladder attack (which didmt go away after pregnancy like I'd hoped) but I cant sleep it off thanks to the little pooping booger.  I smell like milk and spit up.  My living room looks like a laundry bomb went off- not the clean kind.  The main thing I use is not the games, laptops, piano or craft items we have.  Nope, its my breast pump.  Scariest sounding machine ever.  I miss the one at the hospital, it was quiet and pretty.  And yes, I just referred to a breast pump as pretty because thats my life right now, haha.

Motherhood...
- sucks when the baby eats every two hours like clockwork.  from me.
- only lets me sleep about 90 minutes at a time
- is full of poopy diapers.  my daily entertainment is a diaper's fullness.
- is fun to talk about with other moms
- is like a special club of which I'm now a permanent member
- for me means breastfeeding.  I don't like b.feeding.  I have severe limits to patience for it- I like my pump better than Emily.  It doesnt pull away, refuse to latch, OR fall asleep.  I wonder if I can adopt it?
- is expensive.  Things I never thought I needed are now necessary (and oddly exciting) to acquire.  Example: I got a bottle brush today and was SO excited to finally get in the bottom bottle crevices!
- is sticky.  Breastmilk is SO sticky and gets everywhere- especially when I overshoot... lol.
- is special.  As Emily falls asleep she smiles a lot.  It's sweet.  She is even starting to smile when she is awake.
- is noisy.  This baby is such a chatterbox.  She grunts, growls, squeaks, snorts, snores, cries, coos, moans, and whines.  Each in an hour.
- means laundry that WILL NEVER GO AWAY
- is full of creativity. Examples include ways to hold a bottle while doing other activities, finding ways to shower ever faster (Emily is perfectly happy until the moment I step into the water), learning ways to function one handed- she's a cuddle demander.
- requires more patience than I sometimes have.

I'm incredibly lucky to get to be a mom.  I love every minute.

5 Weeks Old

A Recipe:

One beautiful baby

One DSLR camera

One assistant /husband

One black $6 walmart sheet

One white $6 walmart sheet

One strobe light

One photographer/ mom

5 days later...

5 days after my last post Emily was born.

Three days after my post I went into labor.

Christmas Day I woke up early full of energy.  I cleaned, organized, made coffee, redid anything in the baby's room that wasn't perfectly aligned, and then I started having contractions.  Five minutes apart and slowly building in strength.  I assumed it was a false alarm (I'd had one 2 days before), so I took a photo of myself (just in case) and painted my toenails (because I wanted pretty toes for my labor).  I impressed myself with my toenail painting! It took some acrobatics but I did it.

David woke up from a nap and found me in the bathroom painting.  He asked why I was painting my toenails when it was obviously difficult, I told him I was having contractions and then asked what was for dinner.  (I now look back and see that I was nesting)

While David cooked dinner I called the doctor who told me to drink a lot of water, lay down, wait an hour and call her back.  The contractions continued slowly getting stronger, so we inhaled dinner and headed to the hospital.  David had made a cake for Christmas, but it was left on the counter.  Should have brought the thing with us, but who knew?

We'd had our stuff mostly packed and we assumed that this was another false alarm so for the VERY FIRST TIME we did not bring it all with us.  Hindsight is 20/20.

They decided it might be labor but I was only 1cm dialated.  So we waited.  And I drank a lot more water again.  This was at 830 or so.
I was 2-3 cm by midnight and the snow started falling as my contractions strengthened.

With our complications we knew I'd go into labor between 35 and 37 weeks (I was 36w4d- 3 days from full term), and that was true.  But I needed a NICU and our local hospital (with my OB) didn't have that.

We've been working with another hospital three hours away for the last few months and it was decided that it was time to go there at midnight.  But the ambulance didn't make it to the hospital for transport until 4 am. Which gave David plenty of time to go home and get our stuff, get gas, and make it back to me.

So with David following in our car, I was loaded into an ambulance.  We said fairwell to my OB and headed to the big hospital.  We didnt make it.  Instead we made it halfway and had to turn off for a closer hospital with a NICU.  This one was about 90 minutes away on a normal day.  In 6 inches of snow, with more falling each second and no visibility we took over three hours to make the trip.

At this point it's 7 am.  I'm at the WRONG hospital from what we planned and the doctor we need is on vacation (I kid you not) but is "in town and can come in if needed."  BUT the stupid nurses and doctors see that I am 3 days from full term and decide not to help me along.  In fact, they wanted to give me drugs to stop the contractions.  I was SO DONE with that pregnancy that I told my husband, "do not even let them come into this room with drugs to stop this labor."

By that afternoon I'd exhausted every drug they could give me for the pain- Except an epidural.  Because that's for people who are really in labor.  Idiots.  I slowly dialated more and more, and my contractions got worse and worse.  At one point I was so exhausted and they were so bad that I fell asleep between each one and woke up to hold David's hand and tell him what I dreamed in the 2 minutes I was out- it was half sleep half hallucination.

Finally I asked for drugs to stop the contractions- anything to end the pain.  Those failed, at midnight maybe? I'm not sure, it's all a big blur for me.  So they decided it was real (how nice of them), they gave me an epidural, accidentally broke my water while checking my cervix and I was on my way.

Emily Katherine was born at 4 lb 14 oz at 3 pm on December 27 after 47 hours of contractions.

It was insane.
She is here, she is healthy, and my baby weight is mostly gone already.

Emily will be one month old in two days.  What a crazy month it's been.