what I know now « ohbrooke

What I Know Now: 1 Year Old

It was a year ago today that I gave birth to Owen. In retrospect, I don’t remember it being all that much work. How messed up is that? Both that I don’t remember how great it was, and that I don’t remember the pain involved.
Being pregnant for nine months felt longer than having a baby for a year. Time goes too fast in between feedings and naps to even realize a week has passed.
After a 27-year great track record, I’m now officially late to everything. Forget trying to schedule things with other friends who have babies.
Some things I never saw myself doing: holding a baby on my lap while in an airplane bathroom, wearing a shirt that got peed on because I was too tired to change, scooping poop out of the tub, Googling “Who Plays Baby Bop”?
While I don’t seem to have the time or means to work out regularly, my upper body stays toned thanks to a fat toddler. They should try it on “The Biggest Loser,” put a chunky baby on your hip and bend down after the twelve things he’s dropped. Lift him into his car seat without slamming his head into the roof of the car, wrestle him to change his diaper. Boom. 10 lbs. lost.
As the at-home parent, it’s my job to tell my husband all the progress Owen is making. I always tell him the things he does and says that make me proud or make me laugh. I tell him what a great talker he is: Bubble is “Ma-ma”. Banana is “Ma-ma”. Car is “Ma-ma”. See what I mean? He’s definitely advanced.
Hubby says if Owen is half as smart as I think he is, then he’s a genius.
I never knew when I was teaching him to throw a ball that I was actually teaching him how to throw his food on the ground. Teaching him to feed himself turned into teaching him how to find leaves on the ground {or worse} and put it in his mouth. And teaching him how to talk, was teaching him to say “Neh neh neh neh” {his version of no} anytime he was unhappy with what I was doing.
I’m here to debunk the myth that parents don’t know when their baby is ugly. Most of the time Owen is cute, adorable, ready to sign a modeling contract. But I know he can be funny-looking. Mostly in the moments where he looks like my in-laws. {KIDDING!}
I think it took a full year to adjust to the new-mom life. As I see it, here’s how the roles have evolved;
Mom: Works from home, cooks, cleans, does the laundry, pays the bills, does the grocery shopping, feeds the baby, gets up with the baby, bathes and dresses the baby.
Dad: Goes to work and plays with the baby.
In a pinch, we’ve had to order food for Owen at a restaurant when I wasn’t prepared {heaven forbid}. Now this is a slippery slope. This means I get what I ordered AND Mac ‘N Cheese? Heaven.
I used to think people were crazy for having so many toys. I’m deeply sorry: I get it now. Toys are how I survive the day. Toys are how I make deadlines and do dishes. If I don’t have toys, Owen helps with the dishes by taking every dish I put on the rack and putting it on the floor.
At one year old, Owen knows how to turn the iPhone and iPad on. How far away am I from teaching him how to put on a movie and grab some cereal while mommy sleeps in?
While I know I absolutely want to have more kids, the thought of playing this year over in ADDITION to having a toddler sounds so bonkers, I can feel wrinkles deepening in my face. Am I really cut out for this?
Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to say “fart”. My family replaced the noun with “bean” and the verb with “beaning”. My friends find this endlessly funny. I haven’t decided which word will be acceptable for Owen to say, but when he “beans” I think it is the funniest thing. So freely and unabashedly passing gas, without a second thought. It cracks me up. My favorite, the “snart” is crazy funny.
I have laughed out loud at least a dozen times today. I think this age is so fun. He thinks he’s bigger than he is and is so independent. I can’t believe this is the same boy. What happened to the colic-ridden infant who wanted to be snuggled and fed during the night? He’s gone, and replaced with an energetic, busy, charming boy. Surely my life before Owen was easier {and I mean WAY easier}, but life with Owen is much more fun. Kudos, Owen! We both survived!

New Mom: What I Know Now

I wasn’t going to continue the series, but I couldn’t help thinking back to all of the advice I’ve received from comments on the blog, and how dead-on they were. I thought I’d share my thoughts…

What you said — and you were RIGHT:

Pampers for boys – Huggies for girls. I used the Huggies I had received from a baby shower, but when Owen’s “sleeping-through-the-night” was thwarted by two late-night leaky diaper outfit changes, they had to go.
Kirkland diapers seem to be as good as Pampers for boys.
Buy one sample of a few different bottles. Um, can’t they just drink out of any old bottle? No. One will make them choke, one will make them spit up, one will make them cry because it’s too slow, one will…
Bottle washing on the reg.
Don’t buy a lot of clothes because they grow out of them fast. Even my 8lb. 8oz. baby was in newborn clothes for a month, but he seemed to sail straight through to 3-6 month clothing. Look who got mommy’s thighs.
You’ll be surprised how quickly you lose the water weight. I lost 30 pounds in 2 weeks {but was still ticked when the scale stopped dropping 5lbs. per day. Picky, picky}.
If baby kicked in the womb at 3am, he’ll be awake in his crib at 3am. *sobs*
You think you don’t need to buy maternity shirts – but you do. By 41 weeks, I was HA-YUGE. I should have bought cute tops earlier on because I wasn’t willing to fork out the cash for new clothes I could wear for a few days, but nothing fit. Predicament. People stopped asking me when I was due, and started steering clear for fear that my water would break all over their shoes.
Snap-on stroller is the way to go. The carseat is heavy and awkward enough, the snap and go makes life easier.
You’ll know if your baby “looks” like the name you picked out. I gotta tell you – I thought you were all nutso. But with two names in the running – my baby definitely “looked” like an Owen. You win.
You don’t need a monitor in a small house. I thought I’d be nervous about putting the baby in his crib and would do everything short of duct taping the monitor to my ear so I could hear every wiggle – but 5 weeks old, and he got the boot and is thriving in his new crib. I don’t need to hear every snort, that defeats the purpose. If there’s a real problem, I can hear it down the hallway :)
It goes so fast. Didn’t I just get him and he’s already smiling and giggling? Now we’re talking sitting up and teething already?
You don’t need a Diaper Genie – those poops shouldn’t stay in the room anyway {RANK}.

It never occurred to me:

Gas is a baby’s #1 ailment. Burps, toots, poops. That’s boys for ya.
Nipple cream, nipple cream, nipple cream.
Babies can be picky or even allergic to formula {Can you hear the money flushing down the drain?}
There would be times where I would think, “Put him back in!”
While mom does most of the work once the baby comes, Dad faces a few rough weeks of tears from both mom and baby.
These thoughts would ACTUALLY run through my head; “How can I tape that binky in?” and “I just have to mail a package, I can’t just leave him in the car?” Of course I never came anywhere close to doing those things {don’t scold me}, it’s just funny how the sleep-deprived brain works.
How little sleep a new mom gets. And only you are conditioned for the work.
That I wouldn’t go into labor on my own. I had a great and relatively easy pregnancy, but 41 weeks pregnant and NO signs of labor? Seriously?
Two months later, my wedding ring still wouldn’t fit. Or that I could get carpal tunnel after labor.
That I’d be Googling “infant poop”.
Babies are such a science experiment, a constant “guess and check” game. Testing out different bottles, diapers, bath time strategies, night time strategies, sleeping arrangements, swaddling techniques, to swaddle or not to swaddle, napping schedule…
It’s different when it’s your kid’s poop? No, it’s not. I’ve gagged plenty.
Breastfeeding is tricky, tricky. I’ve heard people say, “Give it 10 weeks” but was never quite sure what that meant. Seems to me you belong in one of two camps: not enough milk, or too much milk. And not every woman gets the chance to do it, and not every woman wants to do it. Interesting that something so natural is so downright tricky! And there’s so much more I could write about it – but for fear that I will gross someone out, I’ll keep it to myself. :)
Has anybody seen “Away We Go“? Such an adorable movie. Remember when the crazy mom of two said, “Now I don’t need to wear a bra, I just tuck ‘em in my socks…” ?
Fuzzy crib sheets seem like they may overheat the baby, but putting a sleeping baby on a cold sheet wakes the baby up, and soft furry fabric is to babies what ExcedrinPM is to adults.
How much you need your family. I’ve asked them a bazillion questions about this baby business, and have gotten extra naps and time with my husband.
I’d be efficient at one-handed typing.

Okay, woah. This is getting out of control. I could write a book’s worth of my observations. But all in all, I’m tired but I love it, I couldn’t do it without my hubby, my family and close friends, and I’ll listen to advice from anyone and everyone willing to give it. I have a new-found respect for moms. Phew!

What I Know Now: Overdue, Labor & Delivery

After three weeks of doctor visits where I was apparently showing no signs of getting this baby out on my own, I was induced 8 days after my due date. This is certainly not how I planned on going into labor and I was a bit nervous of the consequences and knew that this increased my chances of having a c-section. But, after a LONG few weeks of waiting, my husband and I were excited to meet this baby we’d been trying to name for months. We had one final date night {Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse and Hot Tub Time Machine – don’t judge, there was nothing else out…} and our family was in town so we were ready.

6 a.m. we rolled into the hospital, a little jittery from a sleepless night and anxiety. We were shown to our room and made comfortable. Not 20 minutes later we hear a woman screaming, and I almost jump out of my skin; “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH… It hurts so bad!!! AAAhhh!!” Hubs and I lock bewildered eyes and I swallowed hard. When she let out another blood-curdling scream, hubs jumped accross the room and “earmuffed” me. THAT certainly didn’t put my mind at ease, but a few minutes later we heard an adorable cry and I was comforted knowing that it would all be worth it.

At 5 p.m. with water broken and pitocin flowing, contractions on a steady minute-apart schedule, a successful and glorious epidural, the nurses checked me hoping I was a seven or eight based on the contractions. I was a four. The doctor came in and found that the baby had actually moved farther up instead of downward and his recommendation was that we have a c-section or I could have been in labor through the night without knowing what was ahead. Having mentally prepared ourselves for this scenario the night before, it was an easy decision for us. And with that, the doctor said, “You’re going to have your baby in 30 minutes!”

In the operating room, the radio was on, I was sufficiently numb and breathing deeply, and the doctors were keeping me distracted with talk of politics, iphones, and anything under the sun until my husband was able to join me. Not ten minutes later, with my husband holding my hand, did I feel a long-awaited lightness and heard a little jittery cry. I knew it was coming, but at the same time it was so unexpected: I didn’t actually make all of this up, there really WAS a baby in there. And from the table I saw his little blond head and pale skin – clean as a whistle like he had just taken a bath. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment. At 8lbs. 8oz. and an AVERAGE sized head thankyouverymuch, little Owen finally made it to us and we couldn’t be happier.

So without further ado, my final What I Know Now:

How could one week sound longer than 9 months? Being overdue was stressful on all levels. I was puffy from head to toe, an 8lb. gain in water weight the last month and having trouble sleeping. But in retrospect, 41 weeks was definitely not too long to wait for what was coming.
An overdue pregnant woman cannot be left alone with her thoughts. Is he too humongous to come out? Am I going to have a c-section? When I go to my appointment will they induce me on the spot? I needed to be watched like a hawk and my sister flew in to do just that. She had to change her return flight 2 times because we went so past due.
The closer we got to the delivery day, the less I cared about a “birthing plan.” I didn’t care who was in the room; you could line up all my ex-boyfriends to witness the event for all I cared. I just wanted to have that baby.
I think everyone just remembers the last thing they did before they went into labor and tell you that’s what you need to do to go into labor. Get on the elliptical, eat a Haagen-Dazs or spicy food…
My husband and I are on different crying schedules. At our wedding, he cried like a baby and was stoic in the delivery room. However on the wedding day not a single tear graced my face, but in the delivery room the anesthesiologist had a second job of wiping my eyes. Is it too much to ask to have a sentimental moment with my husband?
When I saw Owen for the first time, I thought “Why didn’t we do this seven years ago?” …Pregnancy hormones and cute wrinkly babies play crazy tricks on you…
My subsequent thoughts: He’s big! How did he fit in there? Look at the size of his mouth! Why aren’t they showing him to me? Hurry up and clean that baby off so I can see him. Who does he look like? I was sure he’d have my head or Jason’s head on his body, but who is this kid? Aw… I can’t believe he’s here, he is BEAUTIFUL.
Lots and lots of visitors at the hospital, which was great. I had no idea how tired I’d be though. And so much coordinating working around his feeding schedule. On the one hand, about 2 dozen people had seen me naked by this point, what’s one more, but on the other hand, I loved having a little private moment with my boy.
With the c-section, I was at the hospital for four nights. I can’t imagine being there for a shorter period of time because he’s such a science experiment… what is making him fussy, how often does he need to eat, what does that sound mean? The nurses were amazing and my first night home I had a hysterical moment where I seriously matter-of-factly was ready to pay those nurses cash to stay the nights with me to figure this kid out.
But he’s a good baby and I think we are doing well. He’s a very sweet boy, never fussy unless he’s peed on his blanket while I was changing his diaper and didn’t notice.
Speaking of, he has already peed on me. Hubs and I were working together on a serious diaper overhaul, four hands to one newborn sized diaper. I was readied with a second diaper to block any oncoming waterworks which was necessary two seconds later. When I lifted my defensive diaper, I was stunned by a wiley water hose to the face {and newly washed hair}. Jason jumped a foot and nearly choked laughing when he projectile pooped right after. He’s certainly keeping us on our toes!
I think I did okay with pregnancy brain, but now I suffer from what my sister calls, CRS {Can’t Remember Sh…} I set out to do ONE thing each day {like this post, which I wanted to write in the hospital}, and some days even that one thing doesn’t get done. My mind is cluttered with feeding times, number of wet diapers, who’s visiting when, and when the last time I ate was that I can’t even remember to return a phone call.
My best new-mom trick… I can fall asleep in 30 seconds anytime, anywhere.
Another last shout out to my hubby for being a rock. As you can imagine, emotions run like wine through our house these days and my husband has gotten quite the crash course on how to console a worried/upset new mom. Despite my moments of hysteria, I have never been happier.

And this is what new moms do: stay home and stare at their little cubs doing absolutely nothing.

40 Weeks: What I Know Now

Tomorrow’s my due date. I have a feeling we’re going to see it come and go.
At my 39 week ultrasound my doctor saw the baby’s head and said, “Holy Moly!” I knew he was thinking “holy moly that’s an adorable baby!” because I can’t bring myself to think that meant anything else.
This due date thing is kind of like saying that Christmas may happen on December 25th, but it could be a few weeks before or a few weeks after, so just be ready. Oh, and you may be getting 7.4 gifts, or you may be getting 8.14 gifts… but if you get over 9 gifts, they won’t fit through the chimney, so we may need to get them in another way…
After being frustrated for a few weeks at no sign of an early delivery, I decided to just ENJOY. Once I realized it was COMPLETELY out of my control, I embraced each day, and even got a whole night of uninterrupted sleep! {ne’er one trip to the bathroom!}
It’s bizarre being pregnant. Somehow the goings-on of your uterus and cervix are fair game for anyone to talk about. Your coworkers, your distant relatives, strangers…
I have Shrek feet.
The “last two weeks of pregnancy” warning I kept hearing has come to fruition. You weren’t kidding. My shoes don’t fit, my shirts don’t fit, my rings don’t fit, my feet are so puffy I can’t bend my toes, and I’m losing energy by the second. I can hardly breathe for most of the day… clamoring to get air in. It sounds like I’m operating heavy machinery, but I’m really just trying to catch my breath even sitting at the computer.
Even when strangers aren’t talking directly to me about my pregnancy {rare}, they are still talking. I was in line at Old Navy and after a moment of silence, the lady in front of me leaned over to her friend and said, “Did you hear ‘so and so’ is pregnant?” Not ten seconds later did the lady behind me say to her husband, “Becky had her baby last week, a boy!” Subliminal?
I’ve heard of ShrinkxHips, but what about ShrinkxFeet, ShrinksBoobs and ShrinksFace?
I think it’s funny that doing the dishes after you use them and keeping up on laundry constitutes as “nesting.” I’d love to hire someone to do the ‘nesting’ for me.
I went to the library to do some last-minute research on labor techniques. The books were on the BOTTOM SHELF. Are you kidding me? I probably looked like I was practicing the all-fours form of delivery as I tried to get to the books.
I’m kinda sorta dodging a few phone calls that I know are people asking “how I’m holding up”… All 190lbs of me are trying to just keep moving and enjoying my last days with my hubby without feeling anxious or having expectations. But if *you’ve* called and can’t get ahold of me, I was probably in the shower.
I can’t WAIT to get skinny. With a 5lb growth spurt in one week that my nurse likes to blame on the water-weight and I like to blame on my McFlurry “medicine,” I have gained 41 lbs. I’ve seen numbers on the scale I never thought I’d know. I’m really excited to get back down to normal digits {and will never take them for granted again!}.
Growing up, I always wanted to have my kids close together {my sister and I are 14 months apart}. I tell you this so you aren’t surprised when I get pregnant again soon after, or so you can point and laugh when I finally realize how lofty this idea sounds.
My husband has been so supportive of me through the ups, the downs and the really downs. We went to the beach last weekend and he even dug a {sizeable} hole in the sand so I could lay on my stomach for the first time in months. And though it was a process getting lowered down into the hole, it felt great and I loved him for it. If we could see what our future would be like with our spouses on our wedding day, we’d be even more excited I’m sure of it. I love my hubby more today than I ever have.

My pregnancy, month by month:

36 Weeks
32 Weeks
28 Weeks
24 Weeks
20 Weeks
16 Weeks
14 Weeks