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I now know how men feel when then pull out all the stops with the flowers, dinner, chocolates and chivalrous gestures…all this to get into a girl’s pants…all this and it’s not even guaranteed that you will get any. There is one girl I’m trying to get into bed. Actually, make that two girls. Olive and me. During the night, I feed Olive twice and I pray and hope that during those feedings, she doesn’t shit up her back and cause a scene with onesie changing and such and wake up the hubby (I hate to have to wake up hubby in the middle of the night). I also pray and hope that she eats, burps and goes right back to sleep. She usually goes down like a champ after a feeding. Not the case this last week. Here are what the last several days have been like for at least 1 of her 2 night feedings. She feeds, she burps and I put her back down to sleep. Monster noises ensue…a few grunts, maybe the hiccups and after 15 minutes of not allowing me to go back to sleep, she whines and half-ass cries. The woman needs to go back to sleep if she wants me to be sane the next day. So, I pick her up. I sway her. I rock her. I sing to her, hum, stroke her beautiful face, keep her warm against my body and let her hear the deep breaths from my chest. And then when I think she’s fallen asleep, I put her down and quietly crawl back into bed. Victory! So I think. The grunts begin just seconds after getting comfortable and my stomach knots up. I let her be. Maybe she’s just trying to get comfortable. More monster noises, more movements and there goes the whining again. I instantly feel defeated. I just spent 20 back-breaking minutes trying to put her to sleep…and that’s after the 20 minute feeding we just sat through. I pick her up and after another 20 wrist-numbing minutes swaying her in the bathroom with the vent on (she likes the noise), she’s off to La La land. I’m finally able to put her down and go back to sleep for an hour or so before I (daddy too) perform this routine again. Is this karma? Is it because I never let those guys get into my pants even though they gave me a mum the size of my now boobs for the Homecoming Dance? (Sorry Keith, but I just wasn’t that into you) If it’s karma I hope that when Olive is a mom, she too will have a baby that will not go right back to sleep after a night feeding. Daddy would like that very much.
I’m banking today will be better than yesterday. I don’t know if baby monster had a tummy ache or was bored out of her mind, but I’m glad I was the only person to hear the shrills that came out of Olive’s mouth. It just wasn’t right. Having an inconsolable baby cry all day while being home alone could cause any new mom to cry too…right? The only thing that saved me that day and night were the 20 minute feedings and the 10-15 minute drunken state following the feeding that kept Olive from crying. I’m sure it’s wrong to feed a baby every time she’s crying like crazy…but at least I waited 2 hours in between each feeding (Olive, I’m sorry if I’m setting you up for obesity here).
I now realize that writing about how my body currently looks like puff pastry that has been forked should not be the only topic I post about. There are other issues…parenting, baby, crying issues that are far more important right now for me to get off my chest. It’s not all cute, wonderful, lovely baby smells PEOPLE! Folks attempted to warm me: Get your sleep now. It’s a different world, but so wonderful. Congratulations. Yadda yadda. Why didn’t these people tell me the truth? Crying every day, all day for 2 weeks straight is not wonderful, folks. I don’t wish the tears, pain and blood that I experienced those first two weeks on anyone. Week 3-4 got somewhat better…me crying 3 times a week opposed to everyday is better. She still won’t look at me and it seems like she cries only when I hold her. Does she hate me? All the crying made me wonder if I was going through postpartum depression. I think it’s a term that’s tossed around at the sight of a crying mother...so let’s look it up. Symptoms of postpartum depression include weepiness or sadness. Check. Change in appetite. Check. Moodiness and irritability. Check and check! Withdrawal from family and friends. Check. Suicidal, scary, or constant negative thoughts. Negative on this one unless imagining Wile E Coyote dropping a boulder on my head counts. In order to be diagnosed with this condition, I should be feeling this way passed the 2 week mark, which I’m not. I definitely have my appetite back. :)
I don’t know if I’ll ever go into details about the first two weeks other than what I’ve described in previous posts. If I get comments wanting more details, I may recount. I’m in week 4 and things have gotten better, but there are days like yesterday that make me wonder what the hell I’m doing…and why. Don’t get me all wrong. I love Olivia. She means the world to me and I KNOW things will get better. I know there are folks out there that would give anything to have a baby and may be cursing me for all the bitching I’m doing here. But it’s just the truth. Not just my truth. Other mothers have counted their stories to me. I know they’ve felt the same or worse having gone through this experience. This is real stuff, People…and not the airbrushed, scripted or fake version of what people try to tell or show you. Let it out mothers! It’s ok that you can’t cook dinner, make the baby stop crying, keep from getting shit all over the place, run errands and have a sexy good time with your husband all at once. If you can, congratu-fucking-lations…now go make me a cocktail.
For those of you expecting or trying…Good luck or Congratulations! It’s a different, wonderful world, but get your sleep and just know….it’s going to suck extra hard in the beginning.
Gotta tend to the crying baby now...Just Olive this time.
There were two crying babies in the house today and the second one's name rhymes with Shaudia. It was a bad day. There have been worse, but I honestly considered going back to work early after today's episode. I don't even have the strength to go into detail at the moment as I sit hear feeding the baby monster. Perhaps tomorrow.
The last several weeks have been crazy busy with hubby's bday parties, baby showers and getting the house in order. I'm headed into my 38th week and it's crazy to think that little Olivia could be here any day now. One of the baby gifts I received from my dear co-workers is The BOB Revolution Jogger Stroller http://www.bobgear.com/strollers/stroller.php?product_id=4. This thing is the Cadillac of jogger strollers. I'm super excited since running is one of the activities I miss most from my routine. I can't wait to take it out on the trail, but I'll have to wait a couple of months or so until Olive has more control of her head/neck. I've considered putting a doll in it just so I can run with it asap. When that day comes (real baby or not), it's on! I'm so ready to meet Olive and to start my journey to getting my pre-baby body back. I'm going to miss not feeling an ounce of guilt as I enhale a box of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies, but it will be nothing like the happy happy feeling of being able to fit back into my skinny jeans...without the muffin top. MMMM....muffin.
Ah Monday's. Monday's are the days I get babycenter.com emails for the dish on what's happening this week in my pregnancy. Hubby and I were both shocked to read that we have 42 days to go before our little Olivia arrives! That's 6 weeks before our lives change for ever...1 month and 1/2 closer until I can lie on my stomach, drink a margarita and have sushi or a caesar salad. 42 days closer until I can run until my legs and/or lungs give up on me. I miss all these things, but there is one thing I will miss the most that I will never get back once I have access to these treasures. Being just the two of us.
This is something we will never have again…the real quality time together without interruptions, without a worry or care…without anyone else on our minds but each other. I’ve married the man of my dreams and life with him, just me and him, is pretty effin awesome. This sounds pretty selfish, I know, but I’m just being honest here. I haven’t had a freak out my entire pregnancy, so I’m allowed to have this one teeny emotional tumble now. The only other (not so teeny) breakdown I had was when I thought I lost my late grandmother’s pendant. But that only lasted 5 minutes before hubby found it in my makeup brush bag, so it wasn’t that big of a breakdown. Back to the threesome anxiety…Hubby and I have always wanted a family. Sure I'm anxious about it now…don’t most folks in my situation?...but I can’t wait to meet our daughter. I want to meet her so badly right now. I’m going to miss it just being two of us (so much that I get waterworks just thinking about it), but we’re taking the next step into our relationship. We’ve mastered what’s been thrown at us thus far….and we’re ready for what’s next. A little happy (possibly crazy) family…Just the three of us…for now…
I’ve been thinking about creating a blog for sometime, but I never knew what it’d be about or if I’d have the time to keep it up. That’s why I’d like to think I never started a blog anyway. The real story…I’ve always been too afraid to write. I was scared of it. Scared that I was a bad writer. Scared to have people reading my writing. Scared to have people judging it. Of course these are just stupid feelings, so it’s my fault really...but not 100%. I put partial (most) blame one person who played a key role in traumatizing me into never wanting to write again…Professor Brown. That man never gave my paper a grade higher than a C. It was heartbreaking really…I tried really effin hard on all those papers and instead of beer bonging and going to foam parties at clubs, I was working my butt off writing papers for Professor Brown’s class. Ok, so I may have not been old enough to get into the clubs, but beer bonging was an activity I could have easily participated in instead of writing papers for hours and hours and delivering them with such confidence…only to receive a freaking C. Well, I’m not going to let Professor Brown or all those stupid feelings stop me anymore. Be it good or bad writing…I’m going to write! I must warn you that it will probably be bad.
Ok, I feel better now…so what am I going to write about, you ask? Stuffs. I’m going to write about stuffs. I will be giving birth to my first child in March and The Daily Olive Juice, for me, is a place I wanted to record my progress as I get back into pre-pregnancy (or better) shape. I’ll most likely also chronicle my life as a new mother and supply lessons learned, products and methods that have helped me along the way. You’ll also get pizza reviews from me every once in a while…yes, I understand this may wreck my plan to get into shape. Other than that, I’m pretty sure I’ll be writing about other stuffs as well…so stay tuned.
Again, milk drunk and havin a hoppy day on Easter. Sorry again, Olive. 
A great friend of mine made the cutest stuffed monster for my cute monster. Here, they're napping together in the swing.
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