asphodellium

Archive for May 2012

You’re so much more responsive and interactive now! We’re totally holding deep conversations daily. Though I have no idea what you’re saying, I assume it’s something along the lines of, “Hi mama! I like you!”

You like to play with daddy too:

Recently I’ve been able to set you down for short periods in your swing or bassinet or pillow without fuss, YAY! You’ll hang out quietly, giving me a window of time to get certain things done around the house, things that are difficult to manage one-handed, like laundry and dishes and vacuuming. Sometimes you even fall asleep on your own! I’d break out in a SUPER HAPPY DANCE over this except – wait! Laundry and dishes and vacuuming!

You don’t cry anymore during baths and diaper changes. At times you seem to enjoy them. When we change you out of a poopy diaper, or bundle you up in a towel after a bath, more often than not you’re all smiley and happy.

You arch your back and kick your legs so hard that your daddy has almost dropped you, twice.

We’ve had to be really diligent about prying apart your FAT ROLLS in order to wash in the creases. Otherwise “cottage cheese” grows there and the skin becomes red and raw. And smelly, you know, like a dirty belly button. Yeah, there are downsides to being chubby enough to eat.

The midwifery clinic tracks with us until six weeks postpartum, so Wednesday morning was our last appointment.

My little mántóu has grown from 6.3 lbs at birth to 11.5 lbs! Evidently I’m producing heavy cream.

Little smirking munchkin, freshly baked.

Chubby grinning munchkin at six weeks.

Since the birth was quick and I didn’t tear, recovery has been quick and easy as well. I’m less than ten pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight, and it’s weight I could stand to keep … just not if it stays on my midsection! My last question to the midwife was, “So, umm, how do I get rid of the gut?”

To which she replied, “You don’t have one.” BONUS POINTS FOR HER.

I do, though. Not a very noticeable one, to be sure, but there’s definitely some extra flesh that wasn’t there before.

Although I’m not pleased about that, my concern over the paunch is largely overshadowed by the novelty of having cleavage.

I may tire of both, we’ll see.

Anyway, we left the clinic with a copy of my medical records, which I’ve been perusing. This “healthy 25yo nullip” (no longer twenty five, sadly, nor a nulliparida) wasn’t a bio major for nothing. They tell the story of Ashelyn’s birth, too, in a clipped, shorthand way.

(Kat really did write that it was “precipitous.”)

The ambulance has come to our address three times in the past two months. First, minutes after Ashelyn’s “precipitous” birth. Then, last night, because Kevin suddenly began experiencing severe pain on the right side of his lower back.

I called 911 around 10PM, and again at 3AM. Three paramedics arrived the first time. It took them a while, maybe twenty minutes, and much of the pain had subsided by then. In the end, since they predicted long wait times at the hospital, we elected to sit tight and rest. I could always call again in case of relapse.

Turns out, I did. This time Kevin left for the hospital in the ambulance. I stayed home with Ashelyn, who wasn’t sleeping. So much for rest – at least Kevin got some. She was awake and happy (and squirmy and hungry) all evening until the second team of paramedics left with daddy, after which she was awake and fussy for another two hours. Either way, AWAKE. This was unusual; she’s normally quite a decent sleeper.

Kevin came back this morning around 8AM and we all dozed till a little past noon, with a brief interruption when my parents came by to drop off his prescription.

It was kidney stones!

Super not-fun, but I’m glad it isn’t a critical illness. I’m not sure Kevin agrees, though. Forever the financial guru, it wasn’t long before he commented, “It’s too bad kidney stones don’t qualify as a critical illness. It’d be nice to get the CI insurance payout.”