I dared to venture out of my sweatpants & tried on my jeans. They fit everywhere, but were a tad snug in the abominal area (I also developed love handles). Similarly, my shirts fit everywhere, but are extraordinarily snug in the chest area. I'm also still wearing pads (yummy), so when I pull up my jeans I feel a *smush.* Ahh.. so f*cking nauseating. Oh, and when baby cries, if I'm not wearing absorbant pads in my bra- 2 huge wet spots magically appear on my chest.
My new "look forward to date"- February 26. Not only will my bambina be 6 weeks old- but mama will be able to stick objects up her who-ha again! It's the little things in life, folks.
So I decided to stop breastfeeding, guilt-free. I know they say it burns a crap ton of calories but.. frankly....so does the treadmill. And when I was on the treadmill, I fit into my skinny jeans. I realize that pumping at work isn't gonna happen for me- it's a new job & I just don't feel comfortable. I would freeze my milk but I just don't produce enough!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
baby feet
Baby Update: How adorable are these feet? I never thought I'd develop outfit preferences beyond aesthetics, but- alas, I have. I prefer snaps over zippers. I like Gap's organic cotton first, Carters 2nd, and, lastly, Gerber (too stiff). I also like arms that cover the baby's hands (she scratches her own face when she's mad or sleeping). Also, its winter... so... its cold. But J & I love the feet on this number. I think its a boy outfit, but whatevs. She's so little that she still doesn't fit into 0-3 months. But the newborn sized outfits are slowely getting too small for her.
Her smiles melt my heart.
I'm super pissed, though. I sent out her baby announcements- took me FOREVER to find ones I liked. I ended up using Tiny Prints- more expensive, but exactly what I wanted. While my mom was watching the baby, I hit up the post office & sent them out. Half of them were returned to me for insufficient postage (they are square shaped, so I guess they're 61 cents to mail). The other half? Unsure. I know at least some reached their destinations, but the rest... I feel like a jerk calling people and asking if they received them. I only put my return address on like 2 of them (I guess the post office worker noticed the return addy on those 2, rubber banded 25 of them together & sent them back to my house... but there were more than 25... so...). Ugh. J felt bad for me & ordered more. This happened to me with our wedding invitations too. So I'm an idiot for not having learned my lesson.
It was upon my return from the post office that the baby had her first smile - at me! My mom was holding her & I ran over to say hi & give her a kiss. She saw me and broke out into the biggest smile I've ever seen. I was so proud!!! She looked like a little old man (an adorable little old man) with her big toothless grin. I love that little monkey.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Increase in Activity
And not MY activity- but the baby's. And by "activity," I mean eating.
This means me & my ta-tas have been super occupied. And, as the baby is turning 4 weeks old tomorrow & I only have 6 more wks until I start the old job.... I'm looking for a good time to stop breastfeeding. I brought this up with J last night & it didn't go over as well as I though it would.
The catalyst for this discussion was my breast pump has pieces that are like impossible to dry after washing-- so inevitably a bit of mold ends up growing in this particular piece & you have to buy a new part. The new part is like $4. But the problem ain't money- it's GETTING to the freaking store!! Not only is traveling a huge deal w a newborn who isn't allowed in public yet, but the back-to-back blizzards don't make for particularly easy travel. So I felt defeated. And I tired of everyone preaching to me the benefits of breastfeeding. And, good Lord, I HAVE been breastfeeding. So I was stressed. And feeling guilty about wanting to discontinue. So I brought it up w J.
J was under the impression that the breastfeeding thing was going swimmingly. He thought it was great! He's normally extraordinarily sensitive to the plights I endure as a female, so it caught me off guard that he didn't know how I felt about my sore & leaking boobs and how the baby gets super cranky when she's fed exclusively via boob (as opposed to pumping and then bottle feeding). He also doesn't know how none of my shirts fit because I'm like a double D as opposed to a B cup. And considering all the benefits-- basically, he wants me to continue...like, forever. My tired, weary heart broke. And then I said mean words, which I feel bad about now.. And then he got defensive (rightfully so).
But what I found interesting was the fact that I needed his support in quitting. Normally, I do what I want. But for some reason I feel so freaking guilty about only breastfeeding til like 6 wks or so- that I need him to back me up. This morning the first thing he said was that I can quit whenever I want & that he understands (after we discussed how I felt).
But my boobs were super sore & full & we're in the midst of a blizzard & I have nothing better to do but breastfeed........so I figured......what the hell. I'll quit in a few weeks when work is on the horizon. I realized I don't dislike breastfeeding as much as I dislike the idea of being forced to breastfeed.
Wow. I have issues.
This means me & my ta-tas have been super occupied. And, as the baby is turning 4 weeks old tomorrow & I only have 6 more wks until I start the old job.... I'm looking for a good time to stop breastfeeding. I brought this up with J last night & it didn't go over as well as I though it would.
The catalyst for this discussion was my breast pump has pieces that are like impossible to dry after washing-- so inevitably a bit of mold ends up growing in this particular piece & you have to buy a new part. The new part is like $4. But the problem ain't money- it's GETTING to the freaking store!! Not only is traveling a huge deal w a newborn who isn't allowed in public yet, but the back-to-back blizzards don't make for particularly easy travel. So I felt defeated. And I tired of everyone preaching to me the benefits of breastfeeding. And, good Lord, I HAVE been breastfeeding. So I was stressed. And feeling guilty about wanting to discontinue. So I brought it up w J.
J was under the impression that the breastfeeding thing was going swimmingly. He thought it was great! He's normally extraordinarily sensitive to the plights I endure as a female, so it caught me off guard that he didn't know how I felt about my sore & leaking boobs and how the baby gets super cranky when she's fed exclusively via boob (as opposed to pumping and then bottle feeding). He also doesn't know how none of my shirts fit because I'm like a double D as opposed to a B cup. And considering all the benefits-- basically, he wants me to continue...like, forever. My tired, weary heart broke. And then I said mean words, which I feel bad about now.. And then he got defensive (rightfully so).
But what I found interesting was the fact that I needed his support in quitting. Normally, I do what I want. But for some reason I feel so freaking guilty about only breastfeeding til like 6 wks or so- that I need him to back me up. This morning the first thing he said was that I can quit whenever I want & that he understands (after we discussed how I felt).
But my boobs were super sore & full & we're in the midst of a blizzard & I have nothing better to do but breastfeed........so I figured......what the hell. I'll quit in a few weeks when work is on the horizon. I realized I don't dislike breastfeeding as much as I dislike the idea of being forced to breastfeed.
Wow. I have issues.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Snow Day
Remember when you were a kid, standing at the bus stop in the freezing cold anxiously awaiting the sight of that wretched yellow monster? Even though I had friends on the bus and had "fun," it was still all bullsh*t. I think children & adults everywhere would emotionally benefit from never having had to take a bus to school.
Remember how "bad" & "cool" were synonymous on the bus? This may have been unique to my bus, as it did pick up children in neighborhoods of questionable repute (which is terribly judgmental & not all children in those neighborhoods were bad kids). And, anyway, I think there were just like 1 or 2 bad kids, each with his own sidekick. But everyone feared them. It's funny to look back... bc these "scary" kids were like.... 12?
My older brother's good friend was the bad kid on the bus one yr. He was a thug (bc that was super f*ng cool back in jr high) & all the girls (aspiring rule-breakers, I suppose) found him so hot. My best "bus friend" was totally a thug-chick. To my credit, my options were limited! She started smoking at like 9, hung out at the mall, had friends who were making out behind said mall at an age where I was terrified of even kissing, etc... Oh, and she was obsessed w her Adidas coat. She loved this bad boy.
Sad ending: We all grew up. Bad boy had a son. My brother told me he raped (or sexually assaulted) a girl in a swimming pool in front of him. I don't know details. Ironically, my brother & this kid picked each other to be their respective sons' godfathers (???? not gonna comment). Anyway, I guess this kid's gf broke up w him back in '02 or '03. He called her to come over to his house- and to come around back to the sliding glass door. She complied & he was standing behind the locked door w a gun to his head. He pulled the trigger.
I never took the time to get to know this kid. I chalked him up to an a$$hole & never thought twice. I don't particularly regret this, as we probably had as much in common as I had with my best "bus friend"- which is not much... if anything.
Anyway, his suicide struck me as sad & crazy. Crazy mainly bc I never really considered life from his POV- but only from that of a spectator looking in. He seemed exceedingly confident. And he seemed to get whatever/whoever (?) he wanted- I never thought he aspired to be/do anything other than what he was. And I defined him as nothing but a "bad person." I certainly never envisioned him to be an individual filled w pain & sorrow. But he was. I further (& somewhat sheepishly) saw life more and more as shades of gray.
Remember how "bad" & "cool" were synonymous on the bus? This may have been unique to my bus, as it did pick up children in neighborhoods of questionable repute (which is terribly judgmental & not all children in those neighborhoods were bad kids). And, anyway, I think there were just like 1 or 2 bad kids, each with his own sidekick. But everyone feared them. It's funny to look back... bc these "scary" kids were like.... 12?
My older brother's good friend was the bad kid on the bus one yr. He was a thug (bc that was super f*ng cool back in jr high) & all the girls (aspiring rule-breakers, I suppose) found him so hot. My best "bus friend" was totally a thug-chick. To my credit, my options were limited! She started smoking at like 9, hung out at the mall, had friends who were making out behind said mall at an age where I was terrified of even kissing, etc... Oh, and she was obsessed w her Adidas coat. She loved this bad boy.
Sad ending: We all grew up. Bad boy had a son. My brother told me he raped (or sexually assaulted) a girl in a swimming pool in front of him. I don't know details. Ironically, my brother & this kid picked each other to be their respective sons' godfathers (???? not gonna comment). Anyway, I guess this kid's gf broke up w him back in '02 or '03. He called her to come over to his house- and to come around back to the sliding glass door. She complied & he was standing behind the locked door w a gun to his head. He pulled the trigger.
I never took the time to get to know this kid. I chalked him up to an a$$hole & never thought twice. I don't particularly regret this, as we probably had as much in common as I had with my best "bus friend"- which is not much... if anything.
Anyway, his suicide struck me as sad & crazy. Crazy mainly bc I never really considered life from his POV- but only from that of a spectator looking in. He seemed exceedingly confident. And he seemed to get whatever/whoever (?) he wanted- I never thought he aspired to be/do anything other than what he was. And I defined him as nothing but a "bad person." I certainly never envisioned him to be an individual filled w pain & sorrow. But he was. I further (& somewhat sheepishly) saw life more and more as shades of gray.
Friday, February 5, 2010
I'm Alive!
And also proud to admit that I did NOT exercise & instead decided to wait at least another week before attempting to walk. And by walk I mean WALK- not secretly run & pretend to walk. I agree that the physical sensations I was having- if nothing else- indicate that my body isn't yet ready for exercise. UGH. Pads, leaking boobs & a sedentary lifestyle, it is... although sitting around & staring at the babe never gets old to me (I confess). I also confess that I'm pumping right now in an attempt to increase my milk production.
On a similar note, beer is supposed to increase said milk production. So this afternoon I treated myself to a beer- a delicious IPA. Half a beer in, I'm totally buzzed & downloading music on iTunes like its nobody's business. Then I remember this old blog & decide to look back at old pre-baby entries. I discuss going out to dinner (imagine that! For the record, baby can't be in public til Feb 14), sleeping like a baby, drinking too much wine & I also mock the neighbors for enrolling their kid in Japanese lessons. Little did I know I'd be like 1,000 times less cool when my kid was like 3 wks old. I cried like a baby leaving her with my mom for 20 minutes while I hit up Target like old times. I also can barely remember studying for the bar.
I also watched this week's Grey's Anatomy. It was the first solid episode in awhile. How about Christina Yang? Pretty money this week! I've missed her & I'm glad they've been focusing on her.
Baby just woke up from her nap & needs to be changed & fed. Sorry this entry sucks, but I wanted to check in.
On a similar note, beer is supposed to increase said milk production. So this afternoon I treated myself to a beer- a delicious IPA. Half a beer in, I'm totally buzzed & downloading music on iTunes like its nobody's business. Then I remember this old blog & decide to look back at old pre-baby entries. I discuss going out to dinner (imagine that! For the record, baby can't be in public til Feb 14), sleeping like a baby, drinking too much wine & I also mock the neighbors for enrolling their kid in Japanese lessons. Little did I know I'd be like 1,000 times less cool when my kid was like 3 wks old. I cried like a baby leaving her with my mom for 20 minutes while I hit up Target like old times. I also can barely remember studying for the bar.
I also watched this week's Grey's Anatomy. It was the first solid episode in awhile. How about Christina Yang? Pretty money this week! I've missed her & I'm glad they've been focusing on her.
Baby just woke up from her nap & needs to be changed & fed. Sorry this entry sucks, but I wanted to check in.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Exercise Attempt Numero Uno
In the hospital, my doctor advised me not to exercise until my 6 week visit. Yesterday (2 weeks, 4 days post-birth), I rationalized that bc I didn't have stitches/c-section, I was exempt from this instruction: He was just being cautious. I mean, 9 months pregs I could still at least comfortably walk 2 miles... soo... I'll just walk (I told J). In my heart of hearts, though, I thought I'd at least end up running 3 miles.
I put J on baby duty. He admonished me for disregarding the doctor's orders. I didn't think he had heard what the doctor said. He had & he can be Mr. Follow-The-Rules.
With high hopes, I stepped on the treadmill & began walking. I remembered reading something about loosened joints & an increased injury risk. Anyway, by the time I had walked about a half a mile- WALKED- I felt some uncomfortable pressure "down there." It actually felt like I was giving birth again.... I jumped off the treadmill and went to the bathroom to check for severe bleeding or an infant or some sign of what the f*ck that feeling was- to no avail.
While sitting on the toilet (only bein' honest), I tried to google precisely what I was feeling to see if there were any other kindred spirits out there. The words to describe these uncomfortable sensations eluded me.
Now I'm kind of sad. I had no plans on waiting 6 wks to work out again. In fact, I still don't... bc as I type, I'm contemplating giving it another go to see what happens. The only thing holding me back is my exhaustion from only sleeping in 2.5-3 hr stints: To go to bed at 8pm.... or to attempt to run on the treadmill?
I put J on baby duty. He admonished me for disregarding the doctor's orders. I didn't think he had heard what the doctor said. He had & he can be Mr. Follow-The-Rules.
With high hopes, I stepped on the treadmill & began walking. I remembered reading something about loosened joints & an increased injury risk. Anyway, by the time I had walked about a half a mile- WALKED- I felt some uncomfortable pressure "down there." It actually felt like I was giving birth again.... I jumped off the treadmill and went to the bathroom to check for severe bleeding or an infant or some sign of what the f*ck that feeling was- to no avail.
While sitting on the toilet (only bein' honest), I tried to google precisely what I was feeling to see if there were any other kindred spirits out there. The words to describe these uncomfortable sensations eluded me.
Now I'm kind of sad. I had no plans on waiting 6 wks to work out again. In fact, I still don't... bc as I type, I'm contemplating giving it another go to see what happens. The only thing holding me back is my exhaustion from only sleeping in 2.5-3 hr stints: To go to bed at 8pm.... or to attempt to run on the treadmill?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Post-birth Tidbit
One more thing...
Were you aware that you have your period for WEEKS after giving birth? (which makes sense, if you think about it). But were you also aware that you can't stick anything up your who-ha for 6 weeks? This means........ you have to wear PADS.
DUDE. On top of leaking boobs & flabby abs, you're also feeling that same terrible sensation you experienced in 7th grade mere months before you discovered the wonder that is a tampon and never looked back. Pulling up your pants & feeling a large bulge in your underwear. UGH.
Mine has downgraded to spotting, but I do long for my regularly scheduled programming.
My friend paid me an enjoyable visit today to see my offspring & say good-bye before she ventures off to Seattle for the next few months. She leaves this Saturday & is staying in a sweet, furnished apartment building with a gym. I hope she does 3 things (on my behalf) that I adore & am not yet in the condition to do: takes a good long run, wears tampons, & gets laid. Best of luck, my friend, & please return with juicy stories!!!!!!
Were you aware that you have your period for WEEKS after giving birth? (which makes sense, if you think about it). But were you also aware that you can't stick anything up your who-ha for 6 weeks? This means........ you have to wear PADS.
DUDE. On top of leaking boobs & flabby abs, you're also feeling that same terrible sensation you experienced in 7th grade mere months before you discovered the wonder that is a tampon and never looked back. Pulling up your pants & feeling a large bulge in your underwear. UGH.
Mine has downgraded to spotting, but I do long for my regularly scheduled programming.
My friend paid me an enjoyable visit today to see my offspring & say good-bye before she ventures off to Seattle for the next few months. She leaves this Saturday & is staying in a sweet, furnished apartment building with a gym. I hope she does 3 things (on my behalf) that I adore & am not yet in the condition to do: takes a good long run, wears tampons, & gets laid. Best of luck, my friend, & please return with juicy stories!!!!!!
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