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Back to watching ‘Planet Earth’ DVDs from the library at 3 a.m. May 2, 2010

Posted by Erin F. Wasinger in Being a mama.
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And I’m back — thanks to Dave for taking over for a few days while I was a little preoccupied.

Speaking of preoccupied, I’m having trouble forming complete, coherent thoughts. But, I need to blog. Blogging is therapy to me, because it’s cheap, it’s relatively non-judgmental, and no one else wants a 3 a.m. phone call in which I may or may not use the phrase “totally freaking swollen, man.” My feet. Gross.

Giving birth a second time wasn’t any easier than the first. Actually, it was longer and a lot more work than Alice was, but the payoff was greater. Violet cried — like real babies do in the movies — so instead of being whisked away to the oxygen tube-thingy, Violet was plopped on my heaving chest and I got to eye my gross-looking, warm, squirmy baby. Not even having a first baby could prepare me for the emotions: relief, happiness, relief, exhaustion, relief. Thank God I’m not pregnant anymore, I believe was my second thought, followed by “I’m starving.” First was “What a … baby. What a baby.” Not a cute baby. Not a precious baby, not a lovely baby. What a conehead. But what a baby — mine, my crying, perfectly healthy baby.

And this time I didn’t even pretend I was going to wear non-maternity clothes out of the hospital. I again put on a shirt whose sole redeeming value was hiding the stomach that would have everyone believing I was still six months pregnant. “Are those regular pants?” Dave asked when I emerged from the bathroom in something other than a hospital gown on our last day there. I would’ve hugged him and asked him to make out or something, but I was paralyzed by the memory of THAT leading to a 45-minute soak in a hospital whirlpool tub after 39 weeks of discomfort, so instead I just shook my head, showed him the Spandex panel and said “No, but I love you. You’re a good man for saying that.”

At home, Alice has been doing well, too; when Violet cries, Alice rams the binky into her mouth with the command “BABY, BINKY,” in a tone that sounds more like “SHUT UP.” She throws away dirty diapers. She still peers into my arms to yell “HI, BABY. BABY HI. I talk to baby. MOMMY, I talk to baby. BABY, HI!” Yes, Alice. Our first night home, I held Violet while Alice sweetly asked me — not Dad, not Gramma — to read her stories for bed. I tossed Violet (figuratively speaking) to Grandma to kneel by Alice’s bed to read. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when Grandma’s gone, but I have about five days to come up with a solution.

I have two kids. TWO. How did this happen? Oh, I remember the literal answer to that question. I shudder. “No activity for four to six weeks,” the nurse said, giving me care instructions on our last night in the hospital. “SIX, she said, Dave. SIX,” I said over the Food Network show Dave was watching. “SIX.”

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Comments»

1. Lori - May 3, 2010

OMG, she’s adorable!!

2. CaptainNeeda - May 3, 2010

love this pic!


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