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My aunt walked me into the airport carrying Jude in the carseat and my suitcase. I had the two diaper bags (my carry-ons) on my back and shoulder and couldn't keep up with her fast pace. I wondered, at that moment, how the hell I was going to travel from Dallas to Amsterdam and from Amsterdam to Italy with all of my bags and Jude.
After a slight panic of not having some sort of information for Jude's ticket, we got the suitcase and carseat checked and I strapped Jude to my chest with the Bjorn. At this point, he's about 15 lbs, I have my shoulder diaper bag across my shoulders (heavier) and my backpack diaper bag on my back (heavier still). Just standing my shoulders and neck started to complain, but with a hug and a determined nod, I made my way to security, just me and Jude.
Anyone who has been at an American airport in the past 8ish years knows that people are tense. The security guards are no-nonsense and everyone just wants to get through quickly and without finding out that they forgot to take something forbidden out of their bag. Add me and my screaming baby, who I found out in this first security line, hates being in the Bjorn. It took me forever to just get my bags, shoes, and any metal items off of me while trying to balance and quell said screaming baby, and as they started getting sucked into the conveyor belt, I realized that my bag of liquids was not in plain sight I yipped and grabbed it back, got another bin, and set it in. Dirty looks abound.
I sighed and smiled to the security guard, hoping that my smile will help everyone not hate me, and walked through the metal detector. "BEEEEP." Great. Took off my passport booklet and set it in the conveyor. Walked back through.("Waaaa! Waaaa! WaaAAAaaa!") "BEEEP." Took Jude out of the Bjorn, put the Bjorn through the conveyor belt and walked back through with Jude. "BEEEP." I muttered an explicit phrase and shrugged. "Ma'am, do you have a phone on you?"
Oh.
I took the phone out of my pocket, put it through the conveyor belt, and walked through. No beeps. Fantastic. I saddled my bags and baby onto me once again, having extra fun with the shoes, and started a light jog to my already boarding flight.
Here is where I will say that KLM (Royal Dutch Airlines) are amazing. Best flight I've ever been on, complete with eye candy, helpful flight attendants, a free seat next to me, and a bassinet for Jude. Wooo! That flight itself was the most pleasant time I had the entire time, all 8 hour son the plane. They kept me supplied with as much water, coke, wine, and actual meals that I wanted. I put Jude in the bassinet, set up both trays on both seats, sat sideways, and either read or watched Dexter on my portable DVD player while I relaxed. After the first couple hours, Jude got used to the sensation and was calm almost the entire time. Didn't even poop on the flight. Woooooo!
Arrived in Amsterdam an hour early, which, it turns out, was a bit of a bummer. I no longer had any help and had to track across the entire airport as my impersonation of a pack mull and as it turns out, my terminal was 2 floors and another terminal away from the food. This coupled with (again I mention) Jude does NOT like the Bjorn for any amount of time, I was miserable, in tears, and wishing I could be back on KLM airlines. Not to say that the Dutch aren't amazing. They are. Every single person, from higher ups working for the airport to the man who picked up each piece of luggage and put it on the conveyor belt, spoke fluent English. They were kind, helpful, and loved Jude. The Starbucks guy gave me an extra cookie "to keep up your strength as a new mom" and the guy at Burger King (gotta love what America has contributed to the world. Fast food and the entertainment business.) carried my tray to my table for me. After I got my food, I parked me and Jude near a bathroom and tried to relax for the rest of the 9 hour wait between flights.
I set up a makeshift bed for Jude. Luckily, he loved it. (See picture at top.)
I waited and waited for the flight, getting frustrated from being cut off. No phone, no email; Nothing. Just me, Jude, and a bunch of Dutch people. It was a long, long wait.
The flight to Venice from Amsterdam was considerably shorter; About 2 and a half hours. It was a little, tiny plane so Jude and I were stuck in one position the entire time: Cradle hold, trying not to move because the smell permeating from his diaper increased every time he moved. There was literally no room to change his diaper, so he fell asleep and I looked out the window with him in my arms the entire time, searching for the Alps. Is that a mountain, or a cloud? Was the thought running through my head, until I actually saw mountains. They cannot be mistaken for clouds, nor clouds for mountains. Incredible, flying over them for a about half the flight.
I landed and went to baggage claim, hoping that they let people in that area because with Jude in my arms, I cannot lift my suitcase. Of course, they don't, so I was left alone. Luckily, the carseat came before the suitcase, so I grabbed it and undid Jude in record time, put him in the carseat, and grabbed my suitcase the first time it came around. Then I begged some help from a dad with a family (in pantomime; They didn't speak English) and I grabbed Jude in the car seat, the Bjorn, my two diaper bags, and he rolled my suitcase out to the open area, where I found my husband right away. I handed Jude to him and told him that he needs a diaper change ASAP, walked outside, and enjoyed the feeling of not having something heavy loading me down while Scott changed Jude's diaper and his friend Nathan loaded the military vehicle up with all of the belongings.
The actual Italy experience will be documented in a future blog.
I packed a bit smarter for the trip back, now that I had experience, but I also had to pack more in the carry-ons because the trip home was almost twice as long as the trip to Italy, so I was weighted down even more. My flight from Venice to Amsterdam was delayed two hours, but I didn't mind because my flight from Amsterdam to Detroit was in 13+ hours. Why not wait some of those in Venice instead of Amsterdam? I asked if there were any empty seats put together to change seats so I could get a bit more room, so she found 2 and changed it. I boarded quickly and sat down, hoping that no one had booked the chair next to me since then.
I was let down when a young (see, 22) french man sat next to me. (Who I greeted with Ciao, but was responded with "Oh hello!" He spoke fluent English.) I was highly disappointed that I was stuck with Jude in a tiny space again, but this turned out to be my main piece of luck the entire trip back.
We spent most of the flight in silence, but then Jude started smiling and cooing and the french dude got quite a kick out of it, and we started talking. We got along just fine, even though several things were lost in translation as he couldn't always understand my American accent and I couldn't always understand his French accent.
We got to the Amsterdam airport at 9 pm, where he found out that he'd JUST missed his flight and rescheduled for 6 am. He went to go argue or to find a better connecting flight and I went to go get my bags, as they wouldn't let me just pass them on to the next flight because it was at 8 am, the next day. I got my bags off of the conveyor belt, but by this time the baggage claim was cleared of most everyone, and certainly everyone within listening distance that spoke English, and I stood there in confusion about where I should go with my bags and if I could even transport them to where they needed to be.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and was greeted by Emmanuel, the french man, with a cart to carry my bags. "I coollld not git a cohnehcting flight, so I weel heelp yOU with yourrr bahgs, yees?" Yes please!
We found a service center to ask for help, and was rebuffed. "Well ma'am, you can get a hotel, or you can stay in baggage claim, but you cannot check your bags until morning." I asked, what like midnight? 1 am? "No ma'am, not until 5 in the morning. Thank you."
Great. I could not afford a hotel, and thought it was a waste of money anyway, so I was looking for a place to spend the night in baggage claim. Manue, as he asked to be called (Weird nickname, I told him haha) told me that since he had nothing to do and that company passes the time, would help me with my bags and we should set up somewhere and get comfortable.
We found a Starbucks. We talked politics, culture, made fun of each others phrases, about our significant others (he showed me pictures of his girlfriend in Venice) and took pictures of the empty baggage claim. He surprised me with dinner and we made fun of Americans and the French in general.
It definitely passed the hours, and it was nice to have help. He even held Jude while I packed things up when I had to go to the bathroom to change diapers, make bottles, and pee. I was told that I'm much more assertive and confident than any European woman he'd ever met. I told him he was not nearly as much as an ass as I thought a french man would be, even if he was preppy. Then I explained preppy. We parted ways at 5 am and made our way to our different terminals. (With a kiss on each cheek and a "I hope we meet again in another airport someday Sara.")
The next bit was the worst luck I've ever had. Northwest airlines are awful, and I am appalled by their lack of customer service during the flight. I was not served water or food, had to get water myself for bottles from the back, never brought the bassinet I was promised and requested, 3 times, and the flight attendants were rude. I held my unhappy (and air sick) baby the entire 9 hours. I do not recommend Northwest. At all.
Got to Detroit and went through customs. All special treatment I got for having a baby in Europe went out the window in America, which just figures, although a woman in line at customs was kind enough to hold Jude while I filled out my blue sheet. When I picked up my bags (because again, I was not allowed to have them just transferred to the next flight.) a man came up and asked if I'd like help with my luggage. I gratefully said yes, and thanked him profusely. He got my bags in a cart and right before we started walking he said, "Now, you should know I work for tips, only." Uhhh. Ok. Fine. I nodded and didn't thank him again, although I gave the tricky b*stard a tip at the end of it. Got my bags rechecked in, my new boarding pass, and went to find my terminal with my very, very unhappy baby. My flight was in 8 hours.
I sat down and watched the rest of Lost and fed Jude. I was at my limit and didn't care that I was taking up about 4 seats and an outlet and talking on my finally in service American phone. At least Jude wasn't crying.. but.. but...
Oh no. I'm out of diapers. I couldn't believe that I didn't pack enough diapers. I put the last one on him and got up to go find some. "The only store with diapers is 2 terminals down that way." Greeeaaaattt. Love you Detroit. So I walked through the seizure hallway and started my long trek to go find the MOST EXPENSIVE diapers in the history of the world. 2 diapers, 7 dollars. I bought 3 packs grudgingly, knowing it was my fault but hating that I, as an unprepared mother, was being exploited, and made my way back through the seizure hallway to my own terminal. (Seizure hallway: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oreMhpo-NTo and picture at top of page.)
Got back to my own terminal with absolutely no intention of moving until my flight, with enough bottles, diapers, and drink for me to last, and sat down. This is when Jude had an absolute meltdown. Started screaming from jet lag, being uncomfortable, and the awful 32 hours of travel time that we've experienced. I tried for 20 minutes, and nothing worked. He still screamed. I put on my ipod headphones, grabbed my book, and started reading. There was nothing I could do and I needed to save my sanity. People moved out of my terminal quickly.
He finally calmed down right before we boarded, where I found my aunt's mom! Couldn't believe it, but in a strange twist of fate we were both on the same flight home. Got on the flight and both Jude and I passed clean out. (I think. I don't remember but 10 minutes of that flight.) Found my aunt and went home.
I do not recommend traveling that long with a baby.
Motherhood has already taught me so much about myself and about what love can be. There is nothing like doing something and hearing your child's first giggle. Each new development and each time you comfort them with just your arms gives you something that you can't experience in any other way.
I say that because this will not be a happy blog entry. This is the other side of motherhood. The complaints that you're not supposed to voice, the struggles I'm having to deal with. It can't take away from the joy, but it does take a toll.
First of all, sleep deprivation. Although it is better because he's sleeping a bit longer than he used to, it is still there. I am never not tired. Each time that I am awakened, it is a struggle to get out of bed. Each morning, only the fact that Jude will not go back to sleep do I get up. Because I am so desperate for sleep, I have a hard time falling asleep because I'm anxious about when I'll be woken up next.
There is so much stress with this. I'm trying to do so much all at once and I keep missing things. Forgetting details that I need to remember. Because of my mistakes, Jude is not covered by health insurance at the moment. It's only been since the first, and today was the day that I was going to remedy that, but about 3 mistakes later, I couldn't.
I forgot to call my own doctor. I misjudged the time and didn't go get Jude's passport. I didn't get to the notary because I forgot. All of these things that I promised myself and Scott I would do today... nada.
Jude is not always a happy baby. In fact, most of the time he is in a bad mood. Just simply not content. The small, complaining cry that he does wears me down. He can be clean, dry, fed, burped, and held and still complain. Also, he's started fighting when he's tired, so he doesn't go to sleep when he should and then he is too tired to relax and go to sleep. Unless you're a mom, you cannot imagine the immediate irritation that comes when a sleeping baby suddenly opens their eyes and cries.
Put the stress, failures, and lack of real sleep together and you get overall exhaustion. I know I'll get through it, but when I'm tired, remembering all the things that didn't get done and rocking my crying baby who has nothing to cry about... it wears a person down.
I'm worn out.
Like many first moms, I had never played with a true baby before. I've played with toddlers and even babies around a year old, but I never even considered how to play with an infant. After watching my aunt play with him, I began to pick up my own kind of style.
The trick to playing with babies is to not make any sense at all while using a high voice and tickling them. For instance, when he's just wearing a diaper, I'll say "Woooo!" while I dip my head and tickle his stomach with my hair. Sometimes, I'll make my hands into spiders and, to the Jaws theme song, crawl up his legs and tickle him under his arms. When he's wearing a shirt, I push my face slightly into his stomach and shake it around going "Hooooo!" and if he's shirtless, I make the same noise while blowing on his stomach.
All of these make him wide eyed, kick his legs, making cooing sounds, and sometimes even smile.
Other times that I play with him are distractions for what is about to happen. For instance, if he's in a bad mood and I have to change his diaper, I'll whoooosh him around and make airplane noises as I lay him down on the changing table. When he's fussy and I'm at my limit, I'll put him in his stroller and do "drunken baby strolling" which consists of lots of swerving, light bumps, and warnings of "Ohhhh nooo Jude, you're gonna crash!!"
Sometimes, I set him in his bouncer and turn it sideways. He turns his head to the side and watches TV with me. Seriously! I had no idea that little babies did this, but he looooves to watch TV, especially music videos. (Preferably rock.)
I love to dance around with him, but I don't see this as playing. I see it as practice for later :)
Sometimes we play "Where's Jude?!" which is either when I pull a blanket over his head and whip it off, or when he's in his crib and I hide underneath it and pop my head up. That's one of this favorites.
Some of the things that I learned from Miki that are bunches of fun? Cute little baby games that integrate a small rhyme that he's already learned to anticipate something fun. (He either gets really still and waits, or he gets really spazzy.) Also, when he's crying for no reason, you can make funny noises by moving your finger to and from his mouth. (Turning Waaaaaaa to Wa-a-a-a-a-a) Sometimes the noise makes him stop crying!
So, be stupid. Babies love it.
I am Jude's main caretaker right now. I am almost always the only one who gets up with him during the night, I spend almost all day with him, and I like to think that I know him best. Unfortunately, a newborn comes with a lot of stress. At first, the stress didn't hit me. When it did, I had no idea how to deal with such a heavy load. I had no coping skills for this type of stress, and there was no way to get away for more than a couple hours. So, through mistakes and errors and trying again and again and again, I have learned. This is how I deal.
First and foremost, I love him. I love him and I play with him and I laugh with him. I have fun with him. I enjoy my son, and this takes so much pressure off.
Secondly, I ask for help. Frequently. I am lucky enough to live with a seasoned mom who loves my son. She has this way of knowing when I need a break, and when I just need to work through the stress. She also taught me how to play with a newborn, and helped me find different comfort techniques that work for Jude. I'm sure I would have learned on my own, but her help has been invaluable.
I escape in my mind, or more accurately, in a book. I've always loved to read, but now that my own situation can be very frustrating. For instance, I woke up with Jude 8 times last night, most of them just because he didn't feel good and he wanted to be held. I know that he couldn't help any of this, but I was on my last nerve. To keep me sane, I sat down and opened a book while I rocked him to sleep. I did this a few times, and once even while I was feeding him. I get so into the book that sometimes I even want to stay awake longer reading. (Don't. Go to sleep.) It helps.
Music! When I discovered how much music can make a difference (see post below), I started putting music on all the time. It entertains him, and it boosts my spirits when they're low. Most of the time it ends up with either him going to sleep, or me singing and dancing with him in my arms. Either way, a win.
With the help that I am given, I take breaks. I get away from the baby for a few minutes to a couple hours when I need to. I normally use this time to sleep, shower, or run an errand, but no matter what I'm doing, I'm away and the constant vigilance that I keep stops for a bit, and part of my brain relaxes that I didn't even know was tense.
I recommend all of these to new moms and new moms to be.
People tell me to take pictures because they change so quickly. I have been doing this, more so than in the beginning, but I have decided that pictures are not enough. I like to think of myself as a writer and I'll be damned if I don't write down what I want to remember.
Our first dance together. He was about 3 weeks old and he was screaming his head off. I was stumped. I'd fed, changed, burped and cuddled him. He didn't seem to be in pain (different cry) but he certainly wasn't happy. I was getting a headache and very frustrated, so I decided to add some distractions to the mix. I put on music, picked up Jude, and started dancing around with him. The song was Bad Things by Jace Everett. Almost immediately he seemed to falter. I started singing along as I bounced, dipped, and spun him (safely in my arms, of course) around the living room. He stopped crying. I kept it up, and he put on his happy face. (Not quite a smile since he's just learning how to smile, but bright eyes and excited breathing.) By the end of the song, his eyes were drooping and his body was relaxed. I rocked him to sleep. From then on, this song always has a positive affect on him.
When a baby is born in the hospital, the mom, dad, and baby all get bands that have a number on it. The nurses must always check the number on each wrist before handing the baby over. For some reason, the nurses put Jude's identification band very tight around his ankle. This bothered me, but didn't seem to bother him, so I didn't say anything. The morning before I left, Jude came to us from the nursery sobbing. The nurse checked our numbers and handed him over, saying that he was hungry. I tried to breastfeed him, but he wouldn't stop crying. I became flustered very quickly and looked at Scott with a bit of desperation in my eyes. It was the first time that he'd cried and cried and I couldn't stop it. Jude kept throwing his head back to wail, his body was tense, and his back was arched. I couldn't get him to relax, and finally handed him to Scott because I was afraid that I was going to start crying with him. Scott looked a bit lost for a few seconds and then made a decision. He took off his shirt (babies like skin to skin contact) and laid down with Jude on his chest. Jude started to calm down, and as I started to feel relieved, I saw blood on Scott's stomach, where Jude's leg was. The plastic identification band was so tight on his left that it had cut into him. At this point Jude had fallen asleep on Scott's chest. I called in the nurse and luckily, he was getting discharged so they raised no issue with cutting it off. I don't know what I would have done without Scott and his good instincts.
More in later posts. I'm going to keep this up.
Jude is now a month old. In that time, I have gone through some of the biggest ups and downs of my life. I don't think that there is anything more frustrating and rewarding as a newborn. I'm learning as I go along. Learning how he likes to go to sleep, what he does when he's hungry, and something that has taken a bit longer, what supplies I need.
A friend and fellow blogger ( http://katesmakinbabies.blogspot.com/ ) Kate said in one of her posts that she doesn't quite yet feel ready to buy baby things, and I felt the same way when I was pregnant. I felt this way because I have no idea what babies need. I relied on my showers and parental advice to equip me for what I'd need. Now that I've had a month to get to know a newborn and what they need, I have a list for anyone to look at, and for me to remember when I have another baby a few years down the line. (Obviously, each baby is different and you need to specify to what your baby needs and wants. This is just what has been working for Jude and me.)
I had several different kinds of diapers to try out from various shower gifts, including Luvs, Huggies, Pampers, and Parent's Choice (Walmart brand). I have been trying to find the cheapest, best brands out of everything to buy, so I was glad that I disliked Luvs and Huggies. (Both leaked out of the side.) I loved Pampers, and liked Parent's Choice. I decided to go with Parent's Choice, but found out that they also leak from the side, and they aren't as comfortable as Pampers. I decided to spend the extra money for dry clothes and a more comfortable baby. Pampers win. I buy 100 at a time. (The normal kind, not the new Swaddlers brand they have for sensitive baby butts.)
Since Jude is not picky about wipes, I go with Parent's Choice. I buy 3 packages at a time.
With all of the wonderful contributors at my baby showers, I had about 50 newborn onesies. They say that you cannot have too many onesies, but I think that they're wrong. Especially when he outgrew the NB size and had to start wearing the 0-3 size in about a week after birth. I didn't even use half of them. Not only that, but I only had about 10 0-3 onesies. After doing laundry every other day for a couple weeks, and sometimes having to squeeze him back into the NB onesies because he'd spit up, had a blow out, and urinated on every clean 0-3 onesie that I had, I bought a few more cheap ones at Walmart. Onesies are almost disposable. Unless you get some nice ones bought for or handed down to you, do not invest in designer onesies. (If you do, despite my advice, go for The Children's Place and Calvin Klein onesies. So comfortable and durable!)
Car seat, stroller, and Bjorn were all given to me from moms who no longer need them. You need the first two, but I seriously advise investing or finding someone to donate to you a Bjorn. So much easier to carry around a baby in a Bjorn then in a car seat. Car seats are heavy, bulky, and although the safest thing ever, very inconvenient. Carrying baby in the Bjorn is almost like being pregnant again. Kind of heavy and after awhile of walking around your back hurts, but Jude sleeps the entire time when I'm shopping. Win.
Mechanical swing! Also had this donated to me, and could not love it more. For instance, right now he is dozing in it while I type on the computer and eat lunch. He would not be dozing in his crib, car seat, or even in my arms. He wants to be in the swing. Worth it.
Cutesie clothes. Not practical, but worth it for those get togethers when you want to dress up nice and you want him to dress up nice. (Bring a couple onesies for when he ruins his outfit, which he will, but the entrance is the important part.) They're fun and great for pictures. Only problem is that they aren't comfy. If baby seems more fussy than usual, go ahead and put him back in the onesie.
My NB bath tub is nice... but not what I what I expected it to be. Sure, it fits in a double kitchen sink, recycles the water the entire time, and tells me the temp, but it doesn't support his body at all and washing him is a constant struggle. Also, it's huge. I have no place for it. Perhaps go with a less complicated bath and make sure it has some sort of body support.
Blankets! When I started buying baby blankets, I was looking at the super comfortable, puffy, snuggle blankets. Unfortunately, they're too thick to swaddle the baby with, and generally too warm to use. They also don't absorb liquids well. (When you're feeding your baby and some milk comes out of his mouth, you'll grab the nearest thing to you to wipe his face.) So what blankets do I use over and over again? The 4 flannel blankets that came in a package. Light weight, absorbent, swaddle-able, and cheap. Like onesies. I bought 4 more.
Towels and washcloths. Towels for baths and washcloths for everything. But, buy big towels. Right now all I have are the infant towels and they're cute and have a little hood, but they barely cover all of him after the bath, and babies almost always scream after baths because they're cold. (Note to self: Buy bigger, softer towels when you have a chance.)
A few other things that have truly saved my sanity?
Boppys (Especially if you're breastfeeding!). Get two, and 4 different Boppy covers.
http://www.amazon.com/Boppy-Expandable-Miracle-Middle-Pillow/dp/B000KW5I6E
Bottle drying rack and bottle cleaner. Believe me, you won't have time to wash them in the dishwasher.
Diaper changing pads. (For those spills and random pee moments while changing the diaper.)
Different kinds of bottles and nipples to decide what you like. (I go with Avent and Soothie brand. Same with pacifiers.) At least 4 pacifiers and 8 bottles. Yummy smelling Johnson's baby wash and lotion. (Cucumber melon for day time and Lavender for night time :D) I at first went with Aveeno, but I don't like the smell and it doesn't seem to be any more soothing and soft.
Diaper trash that has the flip opening to lock the diapers (and smell) in it. ( http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Trend-Diaper-Champ-Blue/dp/B000CCEWBY )
Butt Paste. Funny name, seriously great at treating and preventing diaper rash. ( http://www.amazon.com/Boudreauxs-Butt-Paste/dp/B0006OG6RQ )
A good monitor.
Mylicon. ( http://www.mylicon.com/ ) Why is he screaming? Sometimes a fed, changed, burped, healthy, cuddled, and comfortable baby will scream. In those times, I use Mylicon in case it's gas. Babies love the taste and it works.
Nail clippers.
A good nose aspirator.
A couple infant toys that rattle, bzzzzz, crinkle, and have a bunch of colors. Put these in his mouth, in his hands, and teach him all the new sensations with them.
A large and fully stocked diaper bag. I at first had this super cute one that my sister in law got me, but it was too small for normal use. I went to Baby's R Us and bought this http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3199293 . Has a huge compartment for just about anything, an insulated part for a bottle, and several smaller compartments for things like pacifiers, cell phones, and anything else. I rarely ever use a purse now. Plus, when Scott uses it he won't look like he's carrying a purse. I'm sure this makes him happy :)
Wipe warmer. Babies hate cold butts and nothing turns a night feeding more unpleasant then a screaming baby while you're changing him. (Ok, maybe not nothing, but you get the idea.)
A few things that didn't work for me?
Pee pee teepee. http://www.bebabean.com/product/pptp/index.aspx Cute idea (put it on a little boy's penis while changing him to make sure you don't get peed on) but you still get peed on. Instead, do a few quick flips with the diaper to make sure he at least pees down.
A crib moving picture thing. Like a mobile but it hangs on the side and looks like a jungle or an ocean and it has nature sounds and moving colors. He did not care about it and preferred a non moving colorful mobile that I made myself. http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2265070&CAWELAID=107513638 .
Blankets made for swaddling. http://www.mypreciouskid.com/swaddle-blanket-sleep-sack.html Have the nurses teach you how to do an actual swaddle with a blanket instead. Cheaper and the babies are used to it when they leave the hospital.
Towel robe. Adorable, but not practical. He wants to be warm and wrapped up, not clothed. http://www.babyearth.com/under-the-nile-organics-terry-bath-robe.html
I'm sure I could keep going on both, but I've covered quite a bit. I'm glad i have this to look back on, and hopefully other moms will chime in and new moms might get something from it. :)
They tell you that until you're taking care of your newborn, you won't understand just how difficult it can be. Ladies about to be new moms? It's true. You are never prepared.
No matter what kind of labor you had, you will be sore. I don't mean sore like you were working out all day sore. I mean you were just hit by a truck sore. Labor takes a lot out of your body and those couple days stay at the hospital are needed simply to give you the help of the nurses until you go home. Then (I guarantee it!) you will miss the nurses.
Scott was an instant dad. He wanted and took on the night screams, and helped me out as much as he could. Because of the intense tearing I had, the first couple weeks were extremely difficult on me sitting down and getting up. There is a lot of that during the first couple weeks. Being handed the baby instead of getting up to get him was such a blessing. The only time we got frustrated with each other was during the night.
Jude starts crying. Scott doesn't wake up for anything, so I smack Scott a few times to go get the baby. He snaps "What?!" I say something to the affect of, "The damn baby is crying!" He gets up and picks up Jude, saying "shh shh shh" and trying to get him to quiet down. Sometimes, this worked. Other times, I would say, "He's hungry, give him to me." Scott would hand him over and go back to sleep. If not, he would continue to cry while we put down each others ideas as to why he was crying. We never had a full on fight or anything like that, but we definitely lost patience with just about everything when there was little to no sleep going on. Fortunately, once day broke, everything was forgiven and giggled at.
They say, sleep when the baby sleeps. Granted, this does not always work. Sometimes you just can't. For instance, today I decided to shower and clean house instead of sleep while Jude took his nap. Last night wasn't a terrible night, so I'm a bit tired, but I feel so much more clean. BUT, do try to sleep as much as you can when the baby is sleeping. Why? Because if you don't, as soon as you do decide to sleep, he will wake up. You will climb into bed after checking on your bundle of cute joy, still sleeping away, and you will fall into the covers. You'll turn off your light and smile as you close your eyes. Your thoughts will get hazy as you start to nod off... and then you'll hear him stir. Your eyes will pop open, but you'll continue to lay there, hoping that the noise you heard was a sleep noise, and that he'll continue sleeping. You start to nod off again, and a wail of impatience from your bundle of joy will cut through any happiness and hope of sleep that you have and you will feel the most intense irritation of your life.
So, truly, sleep when the baby sleeps. You won't be sleeping any other time.
