Congratulations, it’s a boy! A big one.
This little guy joined our family a couple of weeks ago now. We’re adjusting…..slowly. But it’s been pretty good in terms of how horribly this kind of transition COULD go. Unless he’s hungry (and a 10 pound newborn is HUNGRY), Bryce is content to do all the usual newborn things, like snuggle and poop. We’re getting just enough sleep to function on a day-to-day basis. I fall asleep easily, especially with the tiny little heat factory draped across my chest, but Maris makes sure I don’t sleep long. There’s nothing quite like opening your eyes to find her enormous eyes are about 3 inches from yours. It’s probably best to wake up like that because her next move is to yell, “MOMMY!” as loudly as possible to ensure I’m not, in fact, sleeping.
Both big sisters seem to adore Bryce, though in different ways. Hillary, who is 4, is smitten. She steals every opportunity she can to make sure he’s happy. She’s been “okay” with waiting her turn. I must have said, “When brother gets here you will have to [insert life change]” just enough times that it sunk in. Maris, 2, is mildly jealous, which is the best we could have hoped for considering her strong personality. She is also going through her Daddy Phase, so any outwardly jealous behavior isn’t as noticable to me. Perhaps. When Bryce cries, Maris mocks him. “Waa! Waa!” I wish she’d do that to Hillary, even just once, to take her down a notch. Maris is overall not too bothered by Bryce’s presence, though. And I love her little sing-song voice when she gets in his face and says, “Hi, Baby Brother. Hi!”
This mama is doing fine. Bryce was born “naturally,” though not by my choice. About 15 minutes after epidural #2 failed, I realized that skipping lamaze classes was a bad, bad, BAD idea. They don’t offer a mid-labor crash course. Someone busted out an oxygen mask for me and I panicked my way through the next couple of hours without passing out. (Funny sidenote: my stomach was growling wildly as I was having horrible contractions, and I felt hunger. I couldn’t help but wonder how the heck my stomach had not noticed that the rest of my body was majorly preoccupied at that moment.)
In hindsight, if the doctor had been at the hospital instead of at the clinic all the way across town, I really only had an hour of hard, hard labor. But he wasn’t, so that hour stretched out to practically an eternity as he made his way across town, getting held up with railroad crossings and road construction. He probably parked in the furthest space from the hospital, too. And of course he had to change clothes. Wouldn’t want to soil those $130 pants and $200 pointy-toed shoes now, would we?
I could have been pretty dang ticked off when he finally showed up. But considering the position I was in (holding a crowning baby IN), I wasn’t much in the mood to argue. Bryce was born a couple tiny pushes later. This is where a natural delivery gets really gross, so I’ll spare you the post-birth details, but I’d have given most of my right arm at that moment to not feel anything in that general region. HA!
I’m recovering a little more slowly this time. I have quite a bit of back pain and I get tired more easily than expected, but I can cook meat again, so that’s a plus, and I can snuggle up to whoever I’m sharing my bed with, which is something I really missed. I lost quite a bit of weight already. Most of it was water retention. Yay for ankles and wedding rings! I’m not missing all the insulin injections at mealtime, though I’m a little ashamed of all the sugary treats I’ve been eating these last couple of weeks, but they were so delicious after 8 long months of carb-rific deprivation.
I hear the little guy waking up after a pretty long nap (incidentally, longer than any of his night time stretches….hmmmm), so I best be getting a bottle warmed up for him. Gotta maintain that 10 pound frame.