time

I wish that I could make time stand still. the moments seems to go buy too quickly. before I can truly appreciate them, before I can capture them on film, before I'm ready to let them move on. Christmas has come and gone and it was probably one of the best christmases that I can remember. I must write about it some more, but not tonight.

Here's a strange sentiment. I feel so happy that it's heart-breaking. Heart-breaking because you feel like it's going to end and that you won't ever feel this way again.

Separation Anxiety

I can't believe that I'll be going back to work soon (this week, for 1.5 days). I stay up late so that I can make the days stretch longer. Dylan had his 4 month check up today, and as expected, he just fussed a little bit during his shots and was a perfect patient. He really is such an easy-going and happy baby. I miss him when I go to sleep, and I miss him even when I'm driving and he's in the back seat. I like having him near me at all times... I decided that I will start taking a lot of my vacation days this year. I'll have 6 weeks this year, so I plan on taking 5 weeks and rolling another week over to next year, so that I can take 5 weeks the following year too, although I hope to be pregnant again in 2013. 2 weeks are already bookmarked for Europe, and I will take at least 1 day off a month so that I can have 3 consecutive days with Dylan. I don't want to dwell on the fact that I'll be going back to work soon, because I feel like it will and has dampened my holiday spirit, so I will keep it tucked away in the back of my mind for as long as possible. I figured in January I'll start adjusting my schedule, feeding and putting him down earlier and waking earlier myself in the morning to start the day at a more workish time. I know, all good things must come to an end.

Thanksgiving

So thanksgiving has come and gone and it all happened so fast that I really regret not taking the time to enjoy the holiday and I definitely did NOT take enough pictures. I will not make that mistake this Christmas. Brian had the last minute task of preparing most of the food, so he slaved in the kitchen all day. Meanwhile I was in my pjs ironing napkins half an hour before people were supposed to come over. There were no formal toasts, no old or new traditions established, but at least most of our immediate families were able to make it. It's a little sad that Brian's brothers don't really come back for the holidays. At least they were together, but I do hope that Dylan is able to get to know his uncles better than I know mine. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had, this is one that I truly wanted to experience. I remember last year Brian and I escaped to Napa/Calistoga where we gorged ourselves on michelin star restaurants to numb the pain of our grief. It was a painful year of unimaginable grief and we were so thankful that we had each other, and still so sad and angry that musubi wasn't here on earth with us. I remember thinking to myself that there was no way that I was going to get through the holidays unless I was pregnant, and sure enough...a few days before xmas musubi made our wishes come true.

I still cry around the holidays now, and the pain has evolved into something deeper. Before Dylan, I mourned musubi without ever knowing what joy comes with a newborn. And now that I know what I've missed with musubi, I mourn him even more. I cry even harder on his month birthday and I still can't bring myself to read "little musubi and what he likes" to Dylan. But on every 8th of the month, we read a new book to musubi and "Good Night Moon" and we look at his pictures and I say goodnight and leave after I see the picture of me kissing him on the top of his head. When I look at the pictures now, he seems so lifeless to me...which is stating the obvious, and when I see Dylan full of life and love, I can't help but question why did things happen the way they did for us last year. The contrast is just too real. I decided tonight that we need to create our own family traditions, and one will be that every year we will go to a local bookstore and pick out a book for musubi. Brian's mom had bought us stockings, but I asked her to get another one for musubi. He will always get gifts for Christmas, and when Dylan grows up, he'll pick out a gift for musubi too.

Even if he's not here, he'll always still be with us.

Obscene

So i'm not quite at the male equivalent of wanting a porsche at a certain age, but I did have a "moment" the other weekend when I considered spending an obscene amount of money on a pair or leather leggings. Instead, I spent the equivalent amount at Sephora, trying to preserve my fleeting youth. Seriously, obscene.

The Ass Crack

It's befitting that on my birthday I wanted to reminisce about my days at CPMC and how painful my recovery was. I guess it's so that I can be grateful for my recovery and distract myself from the fact that I'm another year older. So back at CPMC, 24 hours after delivery, every fiber of my being was in pain. My body was sore from delivery, my guess was that world war III took place around all my lady parts, and it took every ounce of energy I had to brace my body up out of bed, to hobble on over to the bathroom to use the facilities...which is just a sad and sorry sight. I guess it's a preview to what I have to look forward to in my senior years.

So there's this cream that they give you on pad, to wipe on your booty to soothe the DISCOMFORT, and it is a dream cream. I asked for more, and they said that they can only give it to me twice a day. WHAT??? Forget the ice packs, hot packs, doughnut pillow, I WANT THAT CREAM. Can they write me a prescription for it? I thought it was nurses being difficult, I mean come on, it's a cream, they're suppose to be in the business of helping patients, no? So I ask the doctor the next morning. Get this, they can't write me a prescription for it, but they can give me a little bit more on the hospital version of tucks pads for later. They can't because the cream is a narcotic with cocaine in it! So, in all my years, I have never done any drugs, a cigarette has never graced my lips, and all I've had is an occasional drink and now I'm like a junkie begging the doctor for more ass crack? Motherhood did change me.

mini, major milestones

This post is a catch all for all that's happened when we brought Dylan home. Like most moms, there are few moments when I have linear thinking, so this post might be all over the place, but I will do my best to report on them in chronological order.

Jaundice-free.
We came home from the hospital on a friday night, about 44 hours after Dylan's birth. I was a mess, and was very unsure about a lot of things. A few things at the top of that list were: how am I going to take care of this baby, how am I going to go to the bathroom, when am I going to recover from labor, etc. Since I had really limited mobility, we tried drawing a bath in Dylan's bathroom, since it had a lower tub. An hour into our return home, the bath water started leaking though the floor/ceiling onto the family room floor, seeping through our crown moulding. Nice. The scene would be me lying helpless in the tub, staring quizzically at Dylan, Dylan in his car seat by the toilet and Brian searching for a bucket in our garage. Painful feedings every 3 hours or so, and us going to Dylan's first doctor's appt on a saturday morning.

I wasn't prepared for Dylan to be sick. He was perfect and we had MADE it, So what do you mean he has to go to Lucille Packard? We got there and I lost it. It was the same NICU, the essence of Musubi was there, and everywhere you looked were small babies. Some were fine, some were fighting to stay relevant, some looked limp and exhausted. It was none of my business, but I couldn't help but look. And then there was Dylan, so little in his tanning bed, wearing his shades to protect his eyes. And then there was me, stressed, trying to pump as much as possible so I could feed my little starving, savage son. It was this strange, surreal time period when we were home, and it was like what the F happened? We had a baby, but he's not home? We still slept uneasily, the house was too quiet, and we were so restless. Fortunately the hospital was so close, so we were able to visit often.

Brian went back to work that monday, and mom and dad came with me to bring Dylan back home. He was doing well, sucking down formula, and apparently was given a pacifier too.

6 Weeks.
There is something magical about the 6 week threshold, when things start clicking into place. This is also strongly correlated to Dylan giving us nice 6 hour stretches of sleep at night. YES, that's right. I would feed him some time between 11-12 and he would nurse for about an hour and then wake up some time between 6-7am. Now, I'm very sensitive to parents bragging about their kids, and I'm not saying that he's extraordinarily mature, with amazing physical prowess and off-the-charts emotional IQ...but I am saying that I hit the jackpot with a baby who sleeps through the night, and for the most part still does at week 13. In the past 7 weeks, he's woken up once at 3am. SO yes, I am a big winner, First, hitting the jackpot with my husband and Second, having a baby who has half of his genes.

And have we come a long way with nursing. Now no one told me how difficult it would be, and I watched enough of the "breast is best" propaganda at CPMC to believe some of their gospel, so I forced my nipples to endure pain that was more excruciating than labor. Where is the anesthesiologist for nursing? I believe I just discovered an entirely new sector in healthcare. I will never forget waking up in the hospital with my hospital gown stuck to my left nipple, which had bled through my gown, onto the bed sheet. I remembering whimpering to several lactation consultants and writhing in pain every time Dylan would latch on. When a friend said that it gets easier, and that it takes 4-6 weeks for it to get better, I didn't think that my nips would survive. I am convinced that Dylan has chomped off my old nipples and my version 2.0 ones are better prepared to deal with the elements. It's interesting that your boobs have a mind of their own, and they leak when they hear your baby crying (did not know about that!) Which is a good thing, since for the first 6 weeks, you walk around with half a brain anyways, so with your boob brains, you get pretty close to your previous capacity. And you realize that your brain is now replaced with blobs of milk-filled fat, which is sometimes how i feel when dealing with such difficult decisions like "should I wash the dishes, get the mail, or reheat my lunch for the 3rd time."

And with the nursing, comes the pooping and the peeing. My friends who have little girls have no idea what I'm talking about. They have peaceful, neat diaper changes. I gawk with envy as they calmly change their baby in their bassinet. I can't even imagine. With Dylan, it's like an extreme sport. You just have to hold your breath, cross your fingers, and hope you survive. By week 6, you kind of get the hang of it. You learn to put the new diaper underneath the old diaper - which has a 50% chance of getting soiled during the diaper change, you figure out that the ruffles need to be out and untucked, away from his body, and that there's usually a trilogy with his poops (sharts don't count). You get less anal with pee (like usage of words?), since it's sterile, and you remind yourself that you need to do something else to save the environment, since your household now generates so much more waste...

Hello World
Weeks 9 and 10 are major. That's when Dylan started smiling and talking. He babbles and coos with incredible fluency and he smiles with such happiness that my heart just aches when I think about how hard life is...and how fiercely protective I am of his innocence. I watch him track objects in our world, and how he bats at his toys on his play mat with wonder. He's developing and growing so quickly, faster than what I'm prepared for.

Not a fan of tummy time, he rolled over yesterday, semi-assisted at 13 weeks. We'll need to practice our technique with a swaddle blanket. Another big milestone coming soon, to a flat surface near you.

Nursing Shoes

No, I'm not talking about crocs. I'm talking about how sometimes you're going to have to get up from let's say, a restaurant or something, or move when you're nursing, and it's a potential hazard if you have your baby and you are wearing high-heeled boots. Ergo, you need some fall/winter shoes that are appropriate for nursing. Good thing mine were on sale at Zappos today.