The Unmentionable

Since Jess normally writes these posts and she's too modest to even acknowledge her roll, everyone but her gets the shout outs. It's about time someone mentions her.

Everyone knows that newborns pose some difficulties, so I won't list them all here.  It suffices to say that our newborn is not exceptional in this regard, and Jess has stepped up in every way.  She hasn't gotten more than 2 hours continuous sleep in a month, yet she has never responded to any of Moxie's (or my) insane demands with anything but an impossible amount of love.

Moxie wants to feed every 15 minutes for a day? No problem.  Moxie forgets how to burp?  Sure, mom will pat her back and walk around for an hour until she remembers.  Moxie wants a $1,000,000 in unmarked tens and her own Greyhound Bus to transport the hostages to airport?  Of course, and here's a helicopter with enough fuel to make it to Cuba.

I know, lots of kids have been born (107,602,707,791 as of October of 2011, in fact), which means there have been a lot of mother (around 48,421,218,506).  Maybe they've all been this good; I don't know.  But that doesn't in any way diminish my astonishment and appreciation of her.

I'd like to say that I've enjoyed helping her in this process, but it goes too far to say what I've done is "help".  At best, I've tried to relieve her of all the things she has to do to take care of me, and not always so successfully.  (She's still my best alarm clock.)  Sure, I've changed a diaper or two in the middle of the night, but given how hard it is to wake me up, it'd be easier for her to just do it herself.  Yet she does wake me up, just so that I feel like I'm contributing to the effort.

Whenever I come home, she has a smile and a happy baby ready for me, which, after many sleepless hours of dealing with tears, poop and vomit, I imagine is an Herculean task.  (And our stables are also always clean, incredibly.)  She's not just good at motherhood, but also at spousehood.  (I'm a pretty middling spouse, which just shows how good she is.  I want to be supportive, but I've never been great at expressing sympathy or love.  And yet...she kindly hears the things I don't say.  Were I her, I would've killed me by now.)

So I just thought I'd mention Jess and a small amount of all she does, as this blog seems rather lacking without it.  And to those of you who said she'd be a great mother and a great wife, you mightily underestimated her.

Bye Bye Bibi

Today we have to say goodbye to Bibi. She goes home and gets a break from our crazy selves. She was magic and we appreciate her time here so much. We can't wait to see her in November.

Bib knows best

Good god. We are clueless as parents. 

Hero

Sure, we have seen "Look Who's Talking," "Look Who's Talking Too" and, sad to say it, "Look Who's Talking Now." So we know baby psychology. We took infant care and CPR so we know not to leave a baby unattended on the changing table and that dads need to eat too. However, we know nothing in between. Know how we figured it out? Teresa Lee. She helped us figure it. And she kept us fed and clothed. She has stayed with us for two weeks and we needed her every second.

With Bibi leaving, it looks like
we'll have to finally buy that nasal aspirator.

She leaves tomorrow and I am not sure I can handle it.

Catching some ZZZs

Before I go to sleep I just wanted to post a quick note about Moxie's badass dad and my super husband (who, luckily, are one in the same).  He is taking the midnight and 3am feedings tonight so I can have my first bit of sleep longer than 1.5 hours since Moxie's birth.  He is armed with 8 oz of breast milk, a pediatric feeding tube, and some pillows for the couch.  He's the absolute best.

If it ain't black, it ain't.

Postpartum Care

Food photography is easy.

Jess mugging for the camera, just seconds
before consuming 5 oz. of purple plastic,
resulting in two cycles of pump-n-dump.

We came home with Moxie yesterday (dressed in the same outfit my mother sewed and dressed me in when I came home back in 1980) overwhelmed and exhausted. We were considering driving back to the hospital to demand they readmit us until we walked in the door and found our dogs happy and healthy (thanks Karen and Ruby) and our fridge, freezer, and counter full of delicious ready to eat meals (thanks Josh, Tracy, Jacque and Karen). We have been eating like royalty even though our days and nights are completely consumed with figuring out and caring for Moxie. We have also had lots of calls, emails, letters and texts from people wishing us well and checking in.

We are surrounded by the love, support and humor of our friends. Thanks to Moxie's caffeine laced 2 am feeding we are finally able to say a small, insufficient thanks to the bad asses who take the time to show us love.

"Hospital, I do not regret out parting,
but I will not soon forget nor regret our brief liaison."

Birth Beads

If you could buy poop on Etsy

Throughout labor I relied on the wonderful beads friends and families gave me at my two super fab baby showers (in Colorado by Court, Steve, Kiki, and Glenn and in DC by Karen, Mom, and Hannah). Just before a contraction I would choose a bead and tell myself all about the bead, the reason it was given, and the person who gave it. We even took the beads with us into the c-section.

Before we left for the hospital I strung all the beads on a string with little black beads between. Our midwife, doula, delivery nurse and, later, anesthesiologist all commented on how cool looking my beads were and what a great show of support from people in our lives.

Photo Credit: The Ever Running Nurse