Stella is the sweetest, most beautiful soul I have ever met. Inside and out, the girl shines. She is one of those old souls you hear about that just wants to love everyone and everything.. She is my first baby….
With being the first baby, comes a lot of responsibility… you aren’t even considered a test run because parents have it ALL figured out when it comes to you.. we know exactly what to expect, how to react, and what to do in midst of poop crisis, teething, and breastfeeding.. You, my first child, are the angelic little being that we were blessed beyond words with….And yet, how do I have more “Oh Shit” moments with you than I do with any of the rest of them?
I’ll tell you why.. because ‘What To Expect When Your Expecting’ IS A TOTAL LOAD OF SHIT… You read, and re-read every last chapter from nipple color, and linea niagra (or whatever that technical term is) to milestones and perineum massaging… and yet, you still have NO CLUE what to do when your child starts to cry for that very first time when you get home from the hospital.. I mean legit..
2 hours released from the hospital, all is well.. you have your rocking chair propped next to a cute little table filled with a breast pump, lanolin cream, gel packs and baggies all sorted out neat as can be in baskets from the dollar section. You have the diapers and wipes and alcohol swabs organized to a T in the pack and play Munchkin organized hanging station.. and Jewel’s lullaby CD is playing softly in the background while sweet babe is swinging away in the Happy Lamb Rock and Swing.. You are feeling on top of the world.. like ” Man, I GOT this shit.. ” and then it happens, she starts crying.. at first your like “aww listen to that sweet cry” and then you realize that pediatric R.N. Barbara isn’t anywhere to be found and your husband is out golfing because you were like…”babe, I got this all organized and I would like some skin to skin time with her all afternoon anyways..” and then shit gets real… You are in full blown panic mode..’ HOLY shit.. what do I do? Omg, my nipples are soaking wet, wait, YES that’s what I do, it’s time! It’s time to Breastfeed ( insert supergirl to the rescue arm )..’ you grab the babe and you stick her on your poor cracked nipple and all is well again… until 7 minutes later…she’s not hungry anymore and now she’s screaming pissed and so you try the other boob because ‘ that’s what Chapter 8 section 3 , line 9 said to do.. “Both boobs + equal time x football position + perfect latch = the best breastfeeding experience.. EVER.” Bulllll fuckin’ shit because here I am, nipple to mouth and she wants NOTHING to do with it.. OK.. move on to Chapter 2.. Change Diaper because ‘3 1/2 minutes after breastfeeding, she should have a super sweet smelling seedy-ish bowel movement..’ This will be perfect.. I’ll go right on over to the pack and play and fix this situation and get back to that golden silence.. ok diaper off.. OMG there’s NO poop… WHAT?? No POOP? BUT I BREASTFED EXACLTY 7 MIUTES AND SHE PULLED HERSELF AWAY! That can’t be right, maybe it went up her onsie?, [ lift legs into the air..because i swear i could smell something]… OMG….Mid- Lift and SHE’S PEEING…. WTF! I thought only boys could pee on their moms during changing time.. WTF WTF WTF… grab as many wipes as you can, throw them everywhere.. drop baby’s legs down and get that shit covered! .. Ahh [ sigh of relief ] fresh diaper, fresh onsie, fresh.. OMG I FORGOT TO SWAB HER UMBILICAL CORD!!!! But she just fell back asleep.. But OMG if I don’t do that, It will never fall off and she will probably get a Herniated Umbilical cord and need surgery…(Chapter 11). Back to the pack and play… onsie off..cue screaming because the alcohol swabs are fucking freezing ( seriously, why are they so cold?). onsie back on, swaddle like a pro, little sway and bounce aaaannnd she’s out… Ugh, finally, back to the chair, sit down, take 17 oz. swig of water, because I need 500 extra oz a day when breastfeeding, and begin to jot down time and side of boob in one journal, and then wet diaper, NO bowel movement on the other.. and wait.. what’s that smell? … Look over at that soundly sleeping beauty and note the smile on her face.. Oh bless your heart child, finally.. a POOP! it’s been like 1 1/2 hours since your last… that’s just far too long..I wonder if she’s constipated?.! sweep her up, and back to the pack and play, lay her down and realize… what’s on my arms? Ew, it’s all over my shirt too…. OMG.. ITS POOP.. IT’S FUCKING ORANGE SEEDY BREASTMILK POOP… Where in the hell did it come from though?? [ turn baby over ] OMG she actually shit through 2 onesies ( because you need to keep their bodies at room temperature because” if YOU are cold, then YOUR baby is cold”, Chapter 33)… a pair of pants, AND a hospital grade, no mesh, no cotton, triple threaded, multi sensored, flame retardant (for safety purposes of course )swaddle blanket…. you can’t be serious.. 7 minutes of boob milk.. did that?? Welcome to FULL blown panic mode… also known as ‘the next 5 weeks of your life’. Chaos begins shortly after this point because you just realized that its been 3 hours and she needs to eat again, but now your both in the shower , washing off poop, and your in agonizing pain because as wonderful as the warm water feels, it’s making your boobs feel like someone lit them on fire, and now you cannot even fathom the thought of putting those razor sharp gums back on them, but its BEEN 3 HOURS… NO EXSCUSES.. play like a champ just feed her and then get her and you dressed and back on track. After what seems like the longest and possibly,(if you didn’t latch right) agonizing 10 minutes of your life, she will be done feeding, and you will be rested well enough to take another 17 oz. swig, massage the lanolin on, and get dressed.. you stand up and begin to walk, and BOOM…or should i say, SPLAT… breast milk poop is now running down your entire body and onto your feet… NO FUCKING WAY… you took like 30 minutes to poop last time and now THIS?? IN AND OUT??? I don’t remember what Chapter said it was so unpredictable, OMG that MUST mean you have DIARRHEA Chapter 7), are you sick? fever? rash? omg what do i DO????
And that my friends.. is the beginning of the most beautiful, sleepless, hilarious journey that you have just begun…
You know, I am really beginning to see why my Little Beeba ( Beeba, or B is Stella’s nickname that will probably be used more than her real name) got her extreme paranoia and worry about such little things… Anyone else have a first child who’s like that?? Maybe it’s because for the first year of their like everything from eating to bowel movements was on a schedule.. I’m DEFINATELY not saying that’s a bad thing, because it made explaining your schedule to a sitter really freakin’ easy, and not to mention, you were the happiest, easiest baby of the 3 so far. But MAYBE , just maybe, that ( along with aunt Carrie’s genes) is where you got your extreme dislike of anything schedule interrupting.. I mean for love’s sake, we beat your teachers, AND the superintendent to PRESCHOOL every Mon, Wed and Fri, because that’s “just how we do it” according to my 5 year old master. She is hilarious though, because for as ‘perfect’ (perfect being used VERY lightly) as we parent’s were with that first baby.. Baby # 2.. HA .. WHAT book? Blow off the pacifier, forget the cold-ass swabs, and ALWAYS DIAPER tee-pee during changing, and boy oh boy do we have the makings for an off the wall, “rule-breaker” # 2…( hello hank…) but more on that later… It really is the perfect combo though, because Hank gets the perfect amount of ‘structure’ and order from Stella, and Stella gets the perfect amount of ‘let-go (still not frozen reference) craziness’, stretch the rules fun from Hank. And Finn, 3rd baby Finn?? He just gets it all.. much more on that later..
They are each others best friends..teachers, and enemies.. and there isn’t any other way I would love being shit on, puked on and cuddled with if it weren’t with my babes…..
Never fear B, because, ‘every lil thing is gonna be alright..’
XOXO peace and love