5 New Years Resolutions I Wish My Baby Would Make

It's January, which means it's time for everyone to make (and probably break) a few resolutions. I've made my list of resolutions, but when my sister-in-law asked what Forrest's goals for the new year were, well, I had a few ideas. 

1. Sleep in the crib, Rock'n'Play, Swing, Bassinet, ANYWHERE

Forrest is a certified catnapper and he hates being put down for said naps. If he could work on taking a nap anywhere than craddled in my arms, it'd be pretty cool. 

2. Find Hands

If you hang out with Forrest and I enough, you will inevitably witness me grabbing his hand or foot, waving it in front of his face, and saying, "Find your hand/foot!" Get on it, kid, I'm ready for you to enjoy toys. 

3. Become a Car Seat Lover

Danny and I have big plans for Spring Break (an Idaho trip) so I'm really hoping Forrest turns into a road warrior this year. He is so far indifferent regarding his car seat--sometimes he falls asleep, sometimes he screams. 

4. Give Mama Some Free Time

Mom spends a lot of time holding, rocking, playing, and feeding, not to mention pumping, washing bottles, and sanitizing everything in the house. A nice, long nap during the day (in a swing, bassinet, anywhere? See resolution 1) would be awesome. Even once a week. 

5. Continue to Rock at Everything & Be Awesome

Ok, let's be real--aside from the co-sleeping, the catnaps, the cuddling obsession, and minor car seat aversion depending on his mood, Forrest is a pretty fabulous baby. He sleeps 4-5 hour stretches at night, doesn't spit up too often, eats really well, smiles a lot, and is adorable. Keep on keepin' on, kid. Hey, and how about we skip the 4-month sleep regression? That would be cool!

How a New Coffee Maker Changed my Mornings

It was approximately halfway through November when I noticed that something was, well, off about my coffee maker. Every morning, while Danny gave Forrest his last bottle, I would get the coffee maker ready and get it started as I pumped, washed bottles, and made bottles for the day. I'd make Danny a lunch, pour myself a cup of coffee, take Forrest off Danny's hands, and then watch Good Morning, America! as Danny got ready for work. It would be approximately 3 or 4 hours later when I realized the coffee maker was still brewing. No matter how much water we added, the coffee maker went from only making 8 cups or, somedays, even just 6. 

We cleaned the water receptacle, scraped calcium build up wherever we could find it, ran vinegar through it... and nothing. It still continued to make coffee, but each day, it struggled just a little bit more to do that. And the endless steaming and boiling and noise making got a little annoying, especially after noon. 

However, it was the days where it made barely enough coffee for Danny to fill his (admittedly way too big) travel mug, leaving with me maybe a teensy cup that really started to get to me. 

I never realized the importance of coffee in my life until I couldn't have it. I'd never been much of a coffee drinker. Even in college, I would go weeks between Starbucks or Dutch Bros purchases. When I was working at a car dealership, I got Dutch Bros everyday, but it was more for the taste than the caffeine. It was only about a year and a half ago that I started drinking, and enjoying, coffee--but I always insisted I didn't need it the way some people did. 

When I first got pregnant, I told myself I would avoid caffeine for nine months. I solemnly resolved to do this for the good of the baby, utterly convinced that without caffeine, I would be totally fine! The exact same person I've always been! This was a lie and I absolutely knew it, but I was in denial. 

I went without caffeine for two weeks while I was pregnant. Two weeks. I was miserable. Because, not only was I having caffeine withdrawals and, thus, caffeine headaches, I started to get morning sickness. Combine with the horrible fatigue that plagued me my entire pregnancy and it was an absolute disaster. I had to admit it to myself: I needed caffeine. I needed it to survive.

Sorry, scratch that: other people needed me to consume caffeine for their own good. It's the way of the world. 

So I continued to drink coffee throughout my pregnancy, mostly openly because I refuse to be held down by society's expectations of a healthy pregnancy. 

After Forrest was born, I went a week without caffeine--hospital coffee is, after all, terrible.

Then, once we were home and there was no nurse to help me with every-two-hour feedings, I started to truly understand how much I needed caffeine. I needed my morning coffee, as much for the caffeine as for the ritual, the tie to a normalcy I'd given up in favor of warming bottles, rocking a baby, and changing diapers. 

Coffee tied me to the rest of the world, helped me to stay functioning even when I was running on 2-3 hours of sleep. 

So when the coffee maker decided to give up the ghost and start making less than 6 cups of coffee (after receiving 12+ cups of water), I knew it was time: we had to do something, or I was going to go crazy. 

It took nearly a month but we finally got a new coffee maker. Danny and I are decidedly cheap. If I have to spend more than $40 on something, it better be totally worth it. So I was excited when we found a programmable coffee maker for $24 at Target. We brought it home, as excited as if we were bringing home a new baby or something, and got it ready. 

I screamed with delight the first morning I went downstairs and found coffee, piping hot and ready, at 6am. I was also delighted to not have the coffee maker hissing and fizzing at me for the entire morning. Mostly, I was just excited to have enough coffee for both Danny and I so we could be humans, and not zombies, while taking care of Forrest. And most of all, I found myself astounded at just how happy and fulfilled it made me to have a working, functioning coffee machine. 

10 Tips for Soon-to-Be New Moms

No less than 7 of my friends and acquaintances announced their pregnancies over the week of Christmas. As I look back wistfully at my pregnancy (and the fast-approaching end of my maternity leave), there are some things I wish I'd known about what was about to happen to me and my life. I survived the first 3 months of Forrest's life. That's a pretty big achievement. Here's what I've learned: 

1. The baby is either going to sleep or it won't. Don't sweat it. 

"My baby wakes up every 2 hours. Help!" 

"My baby has been sleeping for 5 hours, at what point should I call 911?" 

Every baby is different. Some will sleep, some won't. Some will want to eat and play every two hours. Some will be out for 6-8 at night from the beginning. And, at any moment, this could change. A typical every-two-hours baby will suddenly sleep through the night. And those magic babies that people brag about will suddenly start waking up every two hours. Because, here's the thing, babies like to keep you on your toes. Nothing is permanent. Nothing. 

2. You don't need the fanciest stroller or car seat or whatever. 

There is a major dick-measuring group of mommies out there who love their strollers and want to tell you all about how spending $1,000 on a piece of plastic is soooo much better than the cheaper options. Ignore these people (and please don't become one). Get the Graco or Chicco or whatever set that is in your price range. It's just as safe as the others. Really. As long as you install it properly. The stroller will be just as confusing to unfold in the rain in the Target parking lot. The baby won't know, nor will the baby judge you for it. Because undoubtedly, no matter what stroller and car seat you use, the baby will inevitably scream through the entire store in it. 

3. "I will never..." are words that you will eat. 

"I will never co-sleep!" I crowed, repeatedly, while pregnant. I swore up and down. Forrest sleeps, happily, next to me every single night. I set lots of rules for myself: walks in the park, grocery shopping, keeping the house clean, scheduling naps. I have yet to keep a single promise I made to myself while pregnant. Things change. The baby you end up giving birth to will never be the one you planned to have. That's ok! Do whatever it takes and don't feel bad about it. 

4. Feed the baby. 

Just feed the baby. Stop stressing about breastfeeding if it's hard. It's ok to supplement. It's ok to go to formula. It doesn't make you a failure or a bad mom. And if breastfeeding is going great, that's awesome--but it doesn't make you better than anyone else. We're all just feeding babies here. Just feed the baby. Resist the urge to smack the Target cashier who sneers when you buy formula, or more nipple pads, or rice cereal. It's your baby. Feed it.  

5. Stop Google-ing everything.

I have Googled baby poop, eye pictures, ear pictures, and rib cages. I have frantically, usually while rocking Forrest, read the same 4 pages of links regarding sleep training over and over again. I have repeatedly Googled how to sleep train without resorting to CIO and Ferbering. I have typed, in all caps no less, "MY BABY WON'T GO TO SLEEP AHHHH" into Google at least three times. Resist the urge. Stop using Google. Expel it from your mind. You'll only drive yourself crazy. 

Instead, call the pediatrician. It's ok to drive them a little crazy with your crazy. 

6. You will miss being pregnant.

I hated being pregnant. Capital H, HATED, pregnancy. And yet, about two weeks after Forrest was born, I started missing it. I found myself thinking wistfully of the nights I could feel him kicking as I fell asleep. It is a strange phenomena to immediately miss the state you couldn't wait to escape, but there it is. You will miss being pregnant, you will miss your little human being a part of you, you will miss being able to keep them 100% safe inside of you. It's ok. Just don't get pregnant again right away, for the love of God. 

7. Find a good group of moms. 

Find a mom group to join on Facebook. I have an October due date group on Facebook and I spend 90% of my time there. Danny is probably tired of hearing about them. In most conversations, I say, "In my October due date group on Facebook..." at least four times. I can't help it. I get all my advice from them. They answer all my questions. We complain about our babies and husbands and dogs and houses in the privacy of the group. Find a small group to join. Don't start fights. Avoid talking about vaccinations. Be nice to them. 

8. Whatever you feel, it's ok. 

You will have a moment where you wonder why you thought you do this. You will have a moment where you wonder what you're doing, if you should just wait until your husband and baby are asleep and quietly pack up and leave. You will have moments where you wish with everything in you that someone would just show up and take the baby for an hour, two hours, a week maybe. It's ok. We've been there. 

9. If you have anything you particularly enjoy doing, you probably won't do it for a while. 

Case in point, I've been writing this blog post since October 25. I'm not kidding. I have only finished books because my 11+ lb baby pins me down for every nap. Forget cooking elaborate meals, washing your bedding, doing your hair the way you like it, or wearing anything dry clean only. 

10. You'll be really, really happy (even when you aren't). 

Taking on motherhood is one of the biggest challenges of our lives. It's amazing what we can do! It's also downright catastrophic in terms of how it completely alters your life and nothing can really prepare you for it. But even when you're awake at 2am and super cranky about it... you'll be happier than you've ever been. I promise. 

NaNoWriMo, Week 1

Why did I ever decide to do this? 

Forrest was sleep on my chest; I had bottles to wash, milk to pump, and a dog that desperately wanted to be fed, but instead, I was frantically typing on my computer. Forrest had been asleep for approximately 40 minutes, which meant he would either sleep for another twenty or another hour. That meant I had  either twenty minutes or an hour to write about 1,000 words, but it was impossible to tell which it was. So I typed as fast as I could to account for this variable.

I'm proud to say, however, despite these obstacles that I've written my required number of words everyday. I haven't written ahead at all, but I haven't fallen behind--and that's definitely an achievement. 

As I started November, I thought I was truly insane for attempting NaNoWriMo with a newborn (#nanowrimowithanewborn on Instagram). However, I've managed to stay on task every single day, which is genuinely surprising. It helped, really, that Forrest was born a little bit early and we'd established some semblance of a routine together. It also really helped that I'd ordered a Boba wrap to help me throughout the day: I can walk, wash dishes, take out the trash, and, most importantly, write--all with Forrest strapped to my chest. 

This didn't, however, change me from often wondering why, exactly, I wanted to take on this challenge this year, of all years. Then I remember: I wanted to do this to prove that I can, that I can be a mom and creative at the same time. 

This is just a short post that I feel like, so far, I've been able to prove that to myself. I can be a mom, I can nurture my baby, I can keep the house somewhat decent, and I can still be creative. And I'm pretty proud of that. 

The Fantasy of Postpartum Style

I came home from the hospital 22 pounds lighter than when I'd given birth, but that didn't mean my pre-pregnancy jeans buttoned.

It's important to know that this is not exactly typical in pregnancy. As of writing this, I'm a mere 2 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. As it turned out, I'd been gaining water weight for a majority of my pregnancy (suggesting preeclampsia without ever actually showing any symptoms), meaning that the minute I wasn't pregnant anymore, all that water had to go somewhere.

The entire time I was pregnant, I fantasized about what I would wear post-pregnancy: chic striped shirts and jeans for walks in the park, cute sweaters and boots. I pinned outfits on Polyvore. I spent hours looking at boots, measuring my calves (which were bloated with fluid, little did I know), and excitedly looking forward everything I thought I would wear once I actually gave birth. Part of me knew that I wouldn't just automatically shrink back to how I looked before, but having no experience with a postpartum body, I couldn't imagine any other world. 

But one month postpartum and I'm still dressing, essentially, the same exact way I dressed during pregnancy. I have made little discernible change in my wardrobe, aside from the fact that 1) my shoes fit and 2) my clothes are a little (or in some cases, a lot) more comfy now. I also spend about half of my day pumping and feeding Forrest, which means that my clothes require me to be able to easily take my shirt off and that they are covered in milk at least part of the time. I only recently wore jeans for the first time since giving birth and that's only because I bought a new pair. But, typically, day-to-day I wear a tank top and sweatpants. 

It was very easy to imagine that, the minute I had Forrest, my life would transform back into the life I'd always known: I'd dress the same ways, do the same things, and have time for everything I'd ever done before. In these first few hectic days, I've found myself briefly wondering what, exactly, I've gotten myself into. Am I insane? Why did I ever think I could handle this?

The first few weeks of having a baby are, ultimately, about survival: you do what you have to to get through the day, whether that means not showering for four days, wearing the same tank top, or carrying your baby around near constantly because they won't sleep otherwise. Survival, strangely enough, doesn't really include dressing in all the things you fantasized about wearing. 

That doesn't mean there aren't opportunities for style in the early months. One of the best things new parents can do is take some time for themselves. At least once a week, my mom will watch Forrest while Danny and I go out to dinner or go grocery shopping. It gives us a chance to dress and act like humans again... as well as to eat a full meal with both hands. Often, days where Danny and I go out, even for an hour, on our own are the days that I shower, do my hair, and put on normal clothes. A month ago, I never would have walked out the door with primer, foundation, and mascara, but I frequently find myself heading to pediatrician appointments in yesterday's make up. 

Style is something that will always be incredibly important to me as a person. I love dressing up, creating outfits, and thinking of new ways to wear things. But as a new mom, it's just not a priority... and that's ok. 

5 Things You Actually Need in Your Labor & Delivery Hospital Bag

There are a lot of lists out there about what to pack for the hospital when you're having a baby. Almost all of them include things that you may or may not end up using. Everyone has a different experience when having a baby, so it's important to take any and all lists with a grain of salt. Just as no pregnancy is exactly the same as another pregnancy, your experience in labor, delivery, and recovery could be miles away from anyone else's. 

I had a lot of, to be honest, useless crap packed in my pre-packed hospital bag: stuff I never touched, or tried to use and failed, or wanted to use but just couldn't. And then, there were the things I sent Danny scurrying to Target to grab or asked my mom to buy for me. 

1. A Hands-Free Pumping Bra

I saw these in Target before I had Forrest and I thought, "how silly!" It just seemed ridiculous. But 24 hours after Forrest was born and I was producing less than 1 mL of colostrum every two hours. Forrest was eating donor milk or formula as a result. My nurse told me I needed to pump, every two hours, and massage all the glands to get my milk to come in. She recommended a hands-free pumping bra--not so I could surf the 'net like the woman on the box (although, admittedly, I'm writing this post while pumping thanks to this very bra), but so I could use both my hands to self express.

You never know if your milk is going to come in immediately or dilly-dally for several days, leaving your baby in a lurch where you have to supplement and frantically pump to up your supply. So pack your pump (or double check that your hospital has pumps available to use!) and pick up one of these bras. The one Danny got me from Target is available here--I like it because it's adjustable, which means you don't have to worry about sizing it correctly ahead of time (and it will still fit after your milk comes in), but there are cheaper options on Amazon as well. If you don't want to drop $30, you can buy a cheap sports bra and cut slits in the front; it's less discreet, but works just as well.  

2. Pads

No one told me a lochia. Ok, I'd read on message boards and packing lists about postpartum bleeding--I'm not entirely dumb. But no one ever mentioned the word lochia. Have you heard the word lochia? Well, lochia is the technical name for the 6-8 weeks of bleeding that you have after giving birth. I know. You can read more about it here, but basically it's not just from any lacerations or tearing you might have from childbirth. Even women who receive c-sections have lochia. The point I'm trying to make is: you're going to need pads. Lots of pads. Good ones. The word around the mom boards these days is that Always Infinity Flex Foam pads are the absolute best that money can buy--and from personal experience, they aren't wrong. Also, stock up because you will need way more than you think you will. And if you haven't worn a pad since you were, like, 12 years old, then I'm really, really sorry. 

3. Easy Access Tank Tops & Packaged Underwear

I'm against specialty clothing on principal. I refused--flat out refused--to buy nursing tops. I think they're a waste of money when you can easily augment or alter existing clothing to do the exact same thing. That being said: the absolute best tops for quick pumping or nursing are tank tops. You can pull them down or up easily and not have too much fabric bunching around your business. Plus, they're super comfy. I've said it before, but the absolute best camis are from Forever 21 and they're dirt cheap. Buy at least 10 of them. 

Speaking of things you haven't had to wear since you were about 12, invest in some cheap packaged underwear, about 2 sizes bigger than you usually wear. Pick at least two varieties in case you end up hating how one kind feels. As a heads up, you're going to love the little mesh underwear they give you post-delivery and you'll be very sad when they won't give you anymore. 

4. Non-Tech Entertainment

The morning I was surprise induced, I shoved my Kindle into my purse and trotted out the door. I wouldn't go back to my house for seven days and not once did I consider asking anyone to grab me an actual, physical book. The thing about having a baby is it makes you super tired--and then you don't really get to sleep because you have to, you know, take care of the baby. There were times where I needed something to do in the wee hours of the night, but if I looked at another screen for even a minute, my head probably would have burst--and all those lighted screens don't help you drift into a 40 minute power nap between feedings and pumping. So grab a book or a journal for your bag. Trust me. 

5. A Notebook 

No, you're not going to have time to wax poetic about your birth experience or anything in the days in the hospital. You might have time to jot down a quick journal entry or doodle or write a to-do list. But this notebook isn't for that. It's for writing down when you feed baby, what side you feed them on (if you're breastfeeding), how much they ate (if you're bottle feeding), how much you pumped, etc. This is information that nurses will come in and ask you about every 2-4 hours... and if you haven't slept in about 30 hours, you probably won't remember a single thing. You'll know you fed the baby. You'll know they had some kind of dirty diaper (wet? soiled? I don't know?), but you won't remember. You'll need to write it down... and you'll need to keep writing it down, post-hospital, because the pediatrician will ask you the exact same questions. Try remembering how much you fed your baby four days ago--I dare you. 

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A few things I absolutely did not need include a robe, extra pillows, and real shoes (until I left). Of course, remember to pack a good, moisturizing lotion. I'm not talking about something that smells amazing. I like Babyology Daily Moisturizing Baby Lotion for both Forrest and I. In the hospital, the air is so dry, you'll end up putting on lotion every other minute and slathering your face with lip balm every chance you get. 

What did you absolutely need in the hospital--and what did you wish you'd left at home? 

The New Normal

I've sat down to write a blog post at least seven times in the last week. I've gotten out my list of topics; I've sat with my planner open; I've started writing... and every single time, I get distracted (usually by Forrest). I've tried to write about postpartum bodies, about Forrest's first weeks, about fashion. About anything. When I'm sleep deprived and struggling to stay awake between feedings, diaper changes, and more, it's hard to focus on articulating thoughts correctly... even though I have a lot to say about my first few weeks as a mom. 

I have spent nearly everyday at home since Forrest and I were released from the hospital. Except for doctor's appointments, I don't really leave the house. Danny and I have gone out to dinner together, sans Forrest, once; we've taken him out to eat with Danny's family once. I went to the grocery store for the first time on my birthday. I have gone to my own doctor's appointment solo once. Every minute of my day is dedicated to Forrest and making sure he eats and stays clean. A typical span of two hours in my house looks like this: feed Forrest; put Forrest to sleep (can take 10 minutes or three hours); transfer Forrest to swing or rocker; pump for a minimum of 30 minutes; clean bottles and pumping supplies; do one part of one chore (put laundry in the washing machine; wipe down the counters; throw away the dead flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter); and repeat. It is, to be honest, exhausting... and then I get to spend all night doing it. Yay! 

In the wee morning hours of my birthday, I sat in my glider, rocking Forrest for about 45 minutes in the vain attempt to get him to sleep. It was 2:30am and, of course, the longer he refused to close his very sleepy eyes, the more I cried. I sang every lullaby I could think of until I sang "Happy Birthday to me" through tears. I wanted so badly for him to go to sleep, to have a good day with him, to go to sleep myself. Then, I looked down at his little face: he'd finally drifted to sleep, closing his dark blue eyes and opening his little mouth to snore. I loved him so intensely at that moment, more powerfully than I have ever loved anything in my life, that it made up for how tired I was, how sad I felt about my birthday.  

It is very easy to make life with a newborn sound all bad. To outsiders (those without kids or who don't want kids ever), it probably sounds like some version of hell. You squeeze a very small human out of the most narrow part of your body and then, immediately begin a year-long sprint of sleep deprivation. They can't lift their own head; they poop and pee all the time, sometimes on you; none of their clothes fit; they communicate through screaming and grunting at you. 

But the raw facts of life with a newborn ignore the really great parts. Yes, Forrest spent three hours scream-crying at me yesterday, but he then spent ten minutes on the floor with me, just looking at my face. Yes, I worry constantly about how much he's eating; I pump and measure and stress and chug water to make sure my body makes enough food, but when he falls asleep on my chest and I finally have time to take a nap, I sometimes choose holding him close to me for just another hour... just because. 

I try not to miss the things I used to do. I'd love to have time for scrapbooking, for journaling, for writing blog posts and hanging out on Twitter; I'd love to sleep for 8 hours straight, make a lazy breakfast, and drink coffee while I watch Food Network. I try not to beat myself up about my messy bedroom, about the breastmilk stains on all my shirts. Because while I am missing all those things (and it would be a lie to say that sometimes I just wish I could have one more day to myself to do all of them), I also love everything new in my life... I just have to get used to it and I'm not quite there yet.