Now that my son is two months old, so much has changed in my life. Liam, of course, is still amazing. He sleeps through the night now, which is just a huge treat for me. He's down around 10PM, and up at 5AM on the penny! I change him and feed him, and then I'm up for work and out the door. Am I tired...yes. Is it worth it...yes. I see him for such a short time during the evenings, I look forward to the mornings when I can see him just one more time.
Christmas is coming. And I've put up a Christmas tree in his room, because I can. It seems like everything about the holidays has hit me differently this year. And it's not because I cry at Christmas songs and candlelight services. OR when I hear about Mary laboring in a stable, and I mourn for her lack of yoga ball and jacuzzi.
I think the bottom line is- I don't want to share my son. And I don't want to share his first Christmas. I want to be greedy and keep it all to myself and Andy. I don't want anyone to hold him. I don't want anyone to see things before we see them. I don't want to dress up. I don't want the hustle and bustle. I just want to...be.
Andy's parents are coming, and his brother. In her hysteria when leaving us after Liam was born, Andy's mom vowed she'd be there for every holiday. They'd never miss anything again, so make room for them! And then Thanksgiving came and went...with excuses. And now Christmas is here and...low and behold, more excuses! So it's any one's guess if they're coming, but as of now all signs point to yes.
We bought very few gifts this year, with a budget of $0, we had to make the money stretch. I've been trying to make gifts here and there, but with an infant in my arms, it's been difficult. Now at less than two weeks away, I'm a little panicked.
I think if I were to make my millions of dollars writing something, I'd write a book called, "What to Expect After You've Expected" because nobody seems to touch on any of the things you'll experience afterwards. Like, not just a few weeks after, but a few months after. And then a few years later.
In my current experience, I'm having a hard time keeping two thoughts together. I'll be staring at something at work, and realize that I have no idea how long I've been looking at it. My mind will just wander around like a hobo. It happens everywhere and in every facet of my day. It's like a baby stroke happened to me and I can't remember anything or focus anymore.
As I start back to my old routine, I'm embarrassed to go to the gym. When I do squats in front of the mirror, my belly bulges out funny under my belly button. When I change in the locker room, I do it in the bathroom stall so nobody can see all my stretch marks. They're red and ugly. My hips are bigger than before, so many of my pants have been donated based on the fact that I can't get them beyond my knees.
My hair is falling out. My luxurious, pregnancy induced, blond, beautiful hair. I can't leave the shower without hand fulls of it clogging my drain. This is frustrating for the sake of vanity. Along with all the break outs I've had in the past month. It's literally like 16 all over again.
Perhaps the most frustrating of it all is going #2 is not #1. If I could use one word to sum up my #2 experience it would be "ouch." Profound, huh? Well. It's true. Because you're using all the same muscles to push your child into the world, you end up sporting these hemorrhoids that make you want to sing the Star Spangled Banner every time you eat fiber. The midwife had given me some cream stuff, but that doesn't treat the internal variety, which cause you to gush blood every time you...take the kids to the pool. So to speak. And I make light of it here, but it's a very real thing. There's no prevention either so. Just know this may be in your future.
Hormones. What crazy characters THESE are. They make you cry at Folgers commercials. They make you hate your husband. They make you cling to your baby like a life preserver. Things that never made me bat an eye in the past are now world shattering issues because of those little things called "hormones." They cause you to have these night sweats that put my husband's normally hot blood to shame. I wake up drenched on a regular basis. They cause you to have these insane dreams where you could swear they were actually happening in front of your eyes, and make you upset for the rest of the day. Hormones.
And this is the after party. Everyone expects their jeans not to fit, but nobody expects the rest. And nobody wants to talk about it either. Except for me. Because it's my blog.