Well hello loyal readers (Momma Bear & Kel). I bet you've all been wondering where the hell all of my pregnancy and baby wisdom disappeared to after week 18. Well I will tell you. I quit. I'm a quitter.
More like life got in the way and I suppose I couldn't find anything worthy of posting about. That's not really true. I still had an opinion about everything but I was just too lazy to post.
Let me quickly recap weeks 19-31. It went like this: donuts, work, philly cheesesteak, work, lay on the couch, whine at Jeff over how every time I had to do ANYTHING I was multitasking because I was pregnant and he was not, attempt to sleep, donuts, work... you get it. I actually lied to my boss and told him I had an iron deficiency so he wouldn't judge the ridiculous amount of shaved meat I was eating. Clearly I'm the model for a fit pregnancy. My exercise total topped out at 0 days.
Also during my 31st week my mom and sister threw me an amazing baby shower. With lots of donuts. They totally get me. I'd be lost without them.
Then, good old week 32 set in. I thought I had the flu. I don't know what the fuck happened to me other than 1. I like, tripled in size seemingly overnight, 2. I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia and 3. was put on bed rest (which is the worst thing EVER). I negotiated this point with my doctor and we settled on one daily trip to Starbucks (drive thru only!) and two trips per week to her office.
It. Was. A. Blast.
Week 33 was spent battling some monster upper respiratory infection. At first I was scared to even have a cough drop. Then they offered me cough syrup with codeine and at first I was like "no fucking way!" followed by time elapsing by approximately three seconds and then "I'd like the cough syrup with codeine please".
THEN week 34 was rounded out by GIVING BIRTH. My OB nurse basically told me if I made it to 35 weeks she would be impressed. She pretty much fucking nailed it because Marlowe Gracie Herold came out all puffy and ugly on July 14, 2016.
Did I just call my kid ugly? Yes I did. Want to know why? Because she was an ugly newborn. She looked like a slimy, overweight, pissed off Japanese sumo wrestler. They held her up in front of me and while I did cry tears of joy (so did Jeff) I also briefly thought, "oh no, put ber back in" which of course couldn't happen because she was 7lb 13oz and FIVE AND A HALF WEEKS PREMATURE. Thanks, diabetes.
Notable stories from her birth:
1. I had some condition where I had a shitload of water (amniotic fluid). I was told that if and when my water broke it would be a lot. Understatement of the century. Enough water came out of me to float the Ark. And because Jeff and I were in denial about how short my pregnancy was chalking up to be, we were not prepared. In the middle of a routine trip to the kitchen to get some more cous cous, my water broke. At first I thought I just pissed my pants, but then it didn't stop. So, I leaked, and leaked, and leaked and stood on a towel between our bedroom and bathroom and directed Jeff about everything he needed to pack for the hospital, which really for me was just a cell phone charger. (I don't know why women go on and on and on about what to pack. I ended up being there 6 nights and 5 days and the hospital fed, clothed and medicated me the whole time. Thanks MGH. Great chicken noodle soup.) Anyway, I sloshed over to Vinnie and kissed him goodbye and sloshed into the car for a very quick ride into the city and then sloshed up to the Labor & Delivery floor where I immediately began Operation Find Someone Who Will Let Me Have A Motherfucking Sip Of Water. Sadly, their doctor skills beat my lawyer skills and I remained thirsty for an eternity.
2. People are smart. Like, really smart. A whole team of people numbed me up, cut Marlowe out of me, managed to not let me die on the operating table, sewed me up and got me back into my room all in about 2 hours. Marlowe, finally free from the inhospitable environment known as my uterus, was whisked away to the NICU for all sorts of treatments. Thank God, Harry Potter, Spiderman, or whichever other storybook character you'd like that she is healthy. I actually just like to thank her incredible team of doctors and nurses for keeping her alive. She spent 3 weeks and 3 days at MGH and it was a nightmare for us. We were assured by her medical team that her biggest problem was basically that she was just too young to have some very important skills (mainly the ability to suck, swallow and breath in order to eat) and she needed to age. So, time passed. I spent countless hours in the NICU (hello HIPPA violation after violation) and got to know some amazing people. There are a couple of nurses over there who I am positive have angel wings coming out of their backs... and just one total asshole who I wanted to kick in the balls. I won't name names. Robert.
3. I'm tired and I'm not even breastfeeding. How anyone breastfeeds and is the sole provider of nutrition for a kid blows my mind. How anyone single parents a kid blows my mind. How some women do both of those things at once is hero status in my book.
Also, phantom cries are a thing. When we finally lay down at night I evenly divide that time between 1. wondering if she is still breathing (so I get up and go check), 2. hearing phantom cries, 3. vowing to remain celibate until she is 18 and emancipated and 4. hovering somewhere in between sleep and making another bottle. I'd sincerely like to thank the pure fucking genius of the maker of the Baby Brezza. Google it and then buy one.
So, now we have a baby! Here is her newborn picture confirming her ugliness. Jeff actually sent this to people while I was basically still out of my mind and couldn't police his thumbs... so that was disappointing. But as you can see, she is now the cutest little bunny ever!
Newborn... Buzz's girlfriend... WOOF.
About a month. Thanks to my amazing friend Heather for this photo.
About two months old. This was after we injected her with autism. I mean, after her vaccinations.
About three months.
Another one from three months because it is the cutest.