Momnesia, it's real.

Momnesia.  I'm just realizing how much of that I had after giving birth to Dawson.  It's a real thing, people.  And it's officially worn off for me.

I'm just a few weeks away from giving birth to my second baby, and everything has begun to flood my memory again.  The "it wasn't THAT bad" has turned into "what the hell am I thinking?" 

Dawson, just a few moments old

I had a pretty picture perfect birth with Dawson.  Labor was short, I pushed for 45 minutes and while I tore, the tear wasn't what hurt really.  His shoulders got stuck momentarily, but no harm done there.  Otherwise, pretty text book.   

But all I can seem to remember now are the things that didn't go well.  It took a whole IV team to get an IV in, and they acted like I was being a big fat baby about it.  They couldn't get blood out of it.  My contractions had no lull.. On the monitor it looked like I was having a continuous contraction. I had more than one epidural, and the one I ended up with didn't work right either and they took it away less than an hour later- I felt everything while Dawson came down and out.  I felt when the nurse put the catheter in (ouch..).  The position I pushed in exhausted me quickly (I had a sheet wrapped around the birthing bar, I pulled myself against it with each push.)  The threat of forceps or the vacuum at 35 minutes pushing.  The horrific amount of blood.  The IV still in my arm, 12 hours after birth (I HATE having an IV.. Just seeing one makes me light headed.). The lack of help from the nurses and ALMOST giving me pain medication I am allergic to.  Not being able to walk the next day, or for several days really, and no one understanding, especially the nurses and doctors.   Being pushed and prodded in my bed every couple of hours after birth.  The nausea.  Breast feeding going AWFUL.  The ER visit for low blood sugar (Dawson) just hours after we were discharged.  The lady at Babies R Us asking me 4 days after he was born when I was due.  The dirty looks as I used the motorized cart at Target to go get formula. 

Momnesia. It took all of that away.  Now? It's crystal clear.  I want to forget again!  I feel more afraid to have this baby than I felt when pregnant with Dawson.  It's clearly too late now! The next few weeks are going to be like torture.  I want to get it all over with desperately, but I want her to continue to bake too because I know it will be better (for her) if she comes closer to her due date.  Obviously I know this will all be worth it, and I know it could have been so much worse.  

I wonder if all second time moms (or third, fourth, fifth...) have this same momnesia where they go "oh crap, not again.." or if it is just me and my anxiety? 

Reflections on birth

I saw a blog post recently about a new mommy in the hospital.  How she felt.  How she cherished and loved this little baby she just suffered to bring into the world.  "Take a picture in the hospital when it's just you and baby, so you can remember how much joy you felt."  Well, that would have been great, except I didn't feel that.

I tried to remember what happened after Dawson was born.  What those first few days were like.  I'm drawing a big fat blank.  All I can remember is the despair I felt, I don't remember specific events well, if at all.  I had done what I never thought I could do- I brought a beautiful baby into the world.  But all I felt was sad.  I wasn't pregnant anymore.  I couldn't feel him kick me anymore.  My fantasy was shattered, this is not how I pictured it.

He was born at 6:46PM on a Saturday night and by the time my parents, sister, and in laws left the hospital it must have been late.  I can't remember, I have no recollection of time.  I attempted to feed Dawson every 3 hours but he was very very hard to rouse.  Joe went to sleep at some point, and I sat and held Dawson for the next 3 hours until his next feeding.  Shell shocked.  In pain, emotionally and physically.   I can't describe any of that first night, or even the next day that I felt any different than that.   I don't remember when people started showing up the next day.  In fact, all I remember about the next day was the nurse wanting me to walk down the hall, and I was so upset because I could barely walk to the bathroom that was literally only feet from my bed.  Joe was doing everything for Dawson, except feeding him, which I seemed to be failing at because he just plain didn't want to wake up for me.  I watched Joe and him bond and I felt this incredible joy for my husband, and sadness for myself.  Why was it coming so easy to him? Why did I feel nothing at all for this baby?

My point in all of this is I think as a first time mother, I had this fantasy that I would want to clutch that baby to me so tight and never put him down, and I didn't feel that.  Dawson and I did not bond right away.  It left me with a huge amount of guilt riding on my shoulders.  It only got worse as I went home and it took literally months for me to bond to him.  I still did everything I needed to do for him, of course, but I just went through the motions.  He was nothing more than a crying mouth to feed and a diaper to change for a few months.  I wish that someone had told me before he came that it's not always instantaneous to feel that intense connection to your baby. It's not always the puppies and rainbows you built up in your head.  All of this certainly didn't cause my postpartum depression, but it contributed heaps and loads to it.  And when I look back, I even want to say it had already begun.

I'm a little scared that this will happen to me again.  That I won't bond with this baby right away, and I will feel disappointed.  Even worse, I'm afraid I won't remember anything again.  I know certain things will be easier this time, but I do have fear that the days after this baby's birth will be the same as Dawson's.  I'm trying to put some actions into place, and seek the support (professional and otherwise) to prevent it, but if there's anything having your first baby can teach you, it's that you can't plan for everything.  You just prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.

I have lost a little something since childhood

Isn't it amazing how life changes when you become an adult? I can remember waiting until I would have my own house, my own car, my own tv, my own phone.. too bad all of that comes with your own bills too!

It has been pretty cold here this week and I have been stuck in the house with Dawson because it has been pretty icy out.  I love watching the snow fall but I no longer love it to stick more than a dusting.  As a kid, I silently prayed for snow.  I wonder when it stopped becoming fun? Now I think of snow and think of how it gives me cabin fever, what shoes I will be able to wear outside (because let's face it, I am a girly girl), and how I will bundle Dawson up.  I know this seems silly, but here in the Pacific Northwest we are not used to snow or freezing temps for more than a day or two before it warms up and the rain returns.

My Christmas shopping has had to be mostly done from home this year.  I'm mostly okay with that.  I don't like the crowds this time of year anyway.  I started using Bing Rewards to earn Swagbucks this week.  I also signed up for Ebates.  I wish I had found that before! I am not the biggest fan of Swagbucks Shop and Earn.  Ebates seems to be much simpler.  I was able to order Dawson two toys for free using my Swagbucks, which leaves me with only a couple of things to buy him.  Shopping has been better this year.  I haven't enjoyed it much the last few years but this year I am excited to see everyone light up when they open what I got them.  

On a not so happy note, Joe and I got parking tickets yesterday.  Our driveway is very short and a sidewalk goes through it.  Our cars both hang into (and admittedly block) the sidewalk.  This is pretty common for people in our neighborhood.  I honestly hadn't thought much of it until I got the ticket.  Joe was able to pull my car forward enough to not block the sidewalk at all, but now getting Dawson in and out will be interesting.  Let's just say I am glad I have sliding doors.  I am trying to decide if we can fit the minivan into our ridiculously tiny garage.  With some organizing, I think we can.  Then Joe could park the Kia right behind me in the driveway.  Otherwise, he is going to have to park on the street. First world problems, I guess. 

Holiday baking!

My mom bakes a ton of stuff every year for Christmas and has since I can remember.  I can't think of the holidays and not think of my mom in the kitchen.  Toffee, fudge, cookies.. You name it and my mom has probably made it!  I like to bake but I don't do it to the extreme my mom does (no worries, Mom, I still love that you do it!)

 This year I thought I would make sugar cookies with Dawson.  He loves to be in the kitchen with me.  I maybe have lost my mind because he hasn't been the most pleasant to be around this week, but I thought I would give it a shot.

He operated the lever to lower the bowl on my mixer for me and watched me mix up the dough last night.  Although he was convinced it was salt and butter in the bowl.  Silly boy.  He also licked the beater (I know people say not to do this, but it's kind of tradition around here).  I loved that part for the simple fact that I can remember doing it anytime my mom baked and used the mixer.  It's such a happy memory.

He's kind of wild with the stirring and such now, but messes can be cleaned.  I thought he would get a kick out of the shapes and he did! Seems he is a bit impartial to the Christmas tree cookie cutter.  He wanted to use that one the most.  Thankfully they only had to bake for 7 minutes because he was less than patient for that part.  I couldn't transfer those shapes even half as fast as he was cutting them. 

After his nap, we frosted them.  He picked the colors for the frosting (yellow, pink, and green) and ended up painting on paper with the green when we had frosted all the cookies.  The kid is a serious double dipper though so we had 3 colors.. pretty much all swirled together.  As you can see, it was almost impossible to get a picture of him smiling because (and this is a direct quote) "This frosting is a very big job.  It's hard work, mama." Well, never mind the picture then!

Baking with a 2 year old is a good lesson that you pretty much have zero control.  They are no Martha Stewart cookies but Dawson had such a good time.  He nearly fell down when Joe walked in after work because he was in a rush to tell him he baked cookies.  It was heartwarming and just what I needed after a rough start to the week.