We still wonder if her charcoal blue eyes will turn brown or stay this dark blue.

From Daily Daguerreotype

His first session isn’t until 4pm today. So while there is a huge list of things we need to do, such as clean the tub, weed the flower beds, finish building the breakfast nook bench, get Penny’s passport made, register his motorcycle… instead he has been bouncing her off his knees proclaiming what a fantastic Cosmonaut she would make while I putter around wondering where I can get a goose to make for Christmas dinner when my family is in town.

I have the world’s worst memory.

But I will never, ever forget these days.

From Daily Daguerreotype

Today I had my six week appointment with the world’s greatest midwife, Lauren. It was encouraging to see that my healing was moving along well, although a serious reminder that it will take a long, long time to get back to “normal.” It was news to me that they suggest a subsequent pregnancy no sooner than a year, even better – eighteen months, after giving birth via C-section. Not that that’s a problem since our hope is for a second child about four years from now.

I found it strange walking back through the halls to my midwife’s office, this time not pregnant, not sore. Lauren, of course, was checking in to see if there were any signs of PPD, but found quite the opposite. I’ve been in Lala Land since Penny’s birth – a strange euphoria that just doesn’t seem to wear off. I feel sort of silly, actually, because I don’t have that perpetually stressed and tired look that I see so many new moms wearing. I don’t find myself rolling my eyes when she cries in the middle of the night, or when I’m starving but have to feed her first. I don’t worry about her constantly, that she’ll get sick or abducted. I’m just… really… happy.

Only during the happiness that I’ve found in being a mother have I been able to accurately look back at pregnancy. As much as I tried desperately to keep my complaining to a minimum, to be thankful for each day I had with a healthy baby inside of me, knowing how difficult it is for some women to conceive, and the loss that others have experienced, I just could not get into pregnancy. To be perfectly frank, I hated it. There were very few moments that excited and thrilled me about pregnancy. I didn’t like being slowed down, being tired and sore. I wanted to just drink another cup of coffee and push through it, but found that I just couldn’t. For me, pregnancy sucked.

I told Matt last night that I would rather go through labor and delivery every single day for nine months instead of being pregnant. As difficult as labor was, at least it was going somewhere. At least there was an end in sight. I wasn’t just waiting and waiting and waiting for months on end slowly getting bigger and sore-er.

Crazy, that.

But this, the here and now, holding her and talking to her and watching her smile and talk back. THIS is amazing. THIS happiness is what I heard in other women’s voices when they spoke of feeling their baby kick inside of them, which did nothing but startle and annoy me. I understand it now. I just feel that euphoria with Penny on the outside instead of the inside.

Just a minute ago, before I put her down for her nap, I held her swaddled in my arms and looked down at her face, her eyes drooping. She is the most beautiful human being alive. She is. She is absolutely beautiful. Jaw-droppingly beautiful. And when she smiles, the whole world stops and turns and looks at her.

In the morning, from 6am – 8 am, she comes into bed with me and we lay on our sides facing each other. She tucks her head up into my neck, and I roll so that my body is nearly on top of her. She cuddles up under me and sleeps sounder than any other time of day or night. She doesn’t make a sound. And part of me wants an 18-wheeler to come crashing through the window about to land on top of us on the bed because I’m absolutely certain that I could push it away to protect her.

And perhaps that’s part of it. I’m a wholly and completely different woman than I was nearly seven weeks ago. I can hardly recognize myself. Half of it is the euphoria, and the other half is that I feel like a better, stronger, wiser person than I was before. I feel like Penny makes the best Me come out. That each day she challenges me to be a better person than I was the day before. And I want to be all of that for her.

Because she’s just so stunningly beautiful.

Today was Penny’s 6 week pediatrician’s appointment. She’s indeed growing like a weed and is now 11 pounds of perfection. Imagine she were a chocolate cake. An 11 pound chocolate cake. That would be insanely delicious. I bet my chocolate wedding cake was 11 pounds.

This was, of course, the first visit with a heap-load of vaccinations. Matt and I had discussed vaccinations and his philosophy was that she needed all of the suggested vaccinations but that I could choose the schedule. So I looked around for a pediatrician who would let me do a delayed vax schedule, and that was my plan.

But I had a change of heart while I was in there today.

I realize that vaccinations are a really heated debate, and I don’t dismiss either side of the issue because I really think parents disagree on this mainly because they want to do what’s right for their kids. So I can understand the philosophy behind both sides.

However… yeah, you knew there was a “however” coming around the bend… Y’all know Matt’s occupation, and you probably know his stance on vaccinations as well. He is a firm believer that there is no link to Autism with vaccinations and that by vaccinating we can prevent a whole host of horrible diseases. And I agreed with him. But there was this tiny little part of me that, as a mother, thought “what if all this research winds up being wrong? What if years down the line they DO find a link? And I’m the mother who gave my kid the XYZ vaccine?” So I wanted Penny to have the delayed schedule so I could watch like a hawk to see if she had any bad symptoms.

One thing Matt had to keep reminding me of while I was pregnant was that the medical decisions I made needed to be based on scientific evidence, not my emotions. He was fine with whatever I decided – a midwife, a natural birth, limited interventions – because I could prove that my midwives had a lower infant mortality rate than the national average, that a natural birth had lower chances of PPD than a section, and that using a doula would decrease my chances of having interventions that could have a wide range of negative side effects. But he never let me get away with statements like “no epidural because maternity anesthesiologists are in with the drug companies and want to kill me!” (Dr. Shane quickly took away all those fears!)

So while I was in the pediatrician’s office debating what to do about the vaccinations, I decided to put Penny on the regular vaccination schedule based on the scientific evidence that no link has been found between vaccinations and Autism. But I also chose to do that as a vote of confidence in my husband, in what he does, and how wonderful I believe he is at it. (Over dinner the other night he said, and I quote, “I actually prefer working with really, really low-functioning kids as opposed to those who are just barely on the Spectrum.” He’s an awesome guy. What can I say?)

I chose to put Penny on the regular vax schedule to not give credence to the Jenny McCarthy’s of the world who are basing their theories on anecdotal evidence. I chose to do it because I live with enough irrational guilt from a miscarriage, and would rather live with the irrational guilt that Penny’s possible future developmental disability came from an unsubstantiated link to vaccinations than to see her in the ICU dying of whooping cough.

I chose to do it because I don’t think my pediatrician has it in with the drug companies. And I think she wants to see Penny healthy. And I don’t think she’s evil. And… gulp… I don’t think doctors are evil.

You know how hard that is for me to say. But when I really, truly think about it… LOGICALLY… that is how I feel.

Ok, it’s out there. All my anti-vax friends, feel free to tear me a new one in the comments section.

I came home from the pediatrician’s office and changed Penny’s clothes. I changed her into this outfit – a little number that Matt picked out at the Carter’s outlet when we found out we were having a girl. Because orange is his favorite color – the color of giraffes. And one thing’s for sure… this little giraffe ain’t gonna get whooping cough!

From Daily Daguerreotype

My thoughts are jumbled, so this post is going to be bullet points.

• Today Penelope is six weeks old, which pretty much blows my mind. She saw both sets of her grandparents this past weekend who hadn’t seen her since birth, and they all remarked that she was chubbing up a bit. It’s hard to see it when you’re with her all day, but my arms certainly can tell that she’s gaining weight. She’s got a pediatrician appointment on Friday, so I’ll find out how much she weighs now.
• Just when you feel like you’re starting to get into the groove of things – her schedule and feeding patterns were becoming more predictable – your parenting gets totally thrown because they hit another growth spurt. Right now we’re in the throes of it as she is eating all the time – sometimes once an hour. It’s wearing her out, though, so she’s sleeping a lot and being cute while doing so.
• This past weekend Penny took her first flights – from Nashville to DC to NH, then NH to Newark to Nashville. I loved that DC was the first place outside of Tennessee that she visited, since I have a special love for it after living there one summer in college. Our flight attendant on the first leg of the journey gave us a signed certificate from the pilot and co-pilot with her name and seat number on it. Matt especially found that adorable.
• Yesterday we took our first trip to the grocery store alone – just the girls. She cried the whole time, but her tiny newborn squeal was barely noticeable in such a large building.
• Six weeks is also a huge step in healing from my C-section, and I’m so happy to finally be here. I definitely feel almost back to normal, I’d say about 90%. Frankly, I’m thrilled that I’m finally at this point so I can start exercising regularly to lose the baby weight. I have some extra weight that I want to lose on top of the baby weight as I put on some pounds from some serious emotional eating after my miscarriage. I have a goal to lose it all before our family cruise in February, with my reward being a hot mom bathing suit and… um… ALL THAT CRUISE FOOD.
• She looks absolutely gorgeous in baby blue.
• We’re starting to make habits, and her personality is starting to shine through. She is a major snuggler. She wants to be held and snuggled all the time and sleeps best when she’s snuggled in bed with me. We get that time every day during her afternoon nap and first thing in the morning while Matt’s getting ready for work.
• She fights going to sleep at night, so we’re starting to just act like nothing big is about to happen, then we let her fall asleep in whatever room we’re in and transfer her to her crib. I think we are programming a terrible habit, but The Behaviorist is not concerned and thinks we’ll be able to break her of the snuggle-to-sleep when she’s old enough to cry it out.
• Yes, we’ll probably do the cry-it-out thing. I’ve already determined that Penny is definitely the type of kid that gets worn out by crying instead of escalating. I think when she’s about 3 months we’ll start sleep training her. Which is crazy since we’re halfway there!
• She has been introduced to Ben Harper, David Gray, Led Zeppelin, The Eagles, Tom Waits, Journey, Elton John, Billy Joel, and John Scofield. The only one she hates is Billy Joel, although it’s hard to determine whether she really hates him or just hates it when I sing his songs.
• She is smiling and cooing now, and it’s more than I can handle.
• She looks a lot like her daddy.

From Daily Daguerreotype

I can’t believe there are two people in the world I love this much.

This week is National Breastfeeding Week which is a celebration of nursing and its health benefits for mother and child. Completely unrelated to NBW, I had two separate conversations about breastfeeding yesterday with two friends who couldn’t be farther apart on the issue. It made me happy that I have such diverse friends who aren’t afraid to discuss hot topics.

Both of these people asked me how breastfeeding with Penny was going, and whether or not I liked it. Frankly, I went into motherhood pretty blase about breastfeeding, and I continue to be blase about it. I choose to breastfeed because A) Penny took to it really easily, B) I like the research behind breastmilk building a stronger immune system, and C) it’s cheaper (probably my most compelling reason, honestly)!

I’m all about people who are breastfeeding advocates, and completely understand why they are. I’m also all about women who choose to formula feed because of the many logical reasons they choose to. For me, it’s all about the cash money.

The more I started to think about it, the more I realized most of my mothering decisions so far have had to do with my thrifty New England spirit. For instance, I’m cloth diapering because I love how it is better for the environment, but I’m also doing it because the average home spends $50-75 a month on disposable diapers. Because of my very generous friends, all 16 of my cloth diapers were given to me, without me spending a dime on diapering. I’ve realized I need to pick up a few more, but with some giftcards that I’ve been given, I think I might only wind up shelling out $20 or so to round out my supply. Pretty incredible when you think that Penny can wear these same diapers until she’s potty trained. And then I can reuse them for future kids. When you add it up, that’s a hefty savings!

(I did have a higher water bill in July, probably from doing a load of diapers every day. Which is all the more reason for me to get more diapers since 14 dirty dipes is only a half load in my washing machine.)

Well if I’m not a hyper breastfeeding advocate, why am I a hyper natural childbirthing advocate? A lot of this, again, comes down to money. We just got the bills from my C-section and hospital stay which added up to a whopping $30,000. Fortunately, because of Matt’s fairly comprehensive employer-sponsored healthcare we only have to pay about 15% of the total bill for my care, Penny’s nursery stay and her EKGs. But $30,000 as opposed to $2,000 for a natural delivery? Why would anyone choose the former if they didn’t have to?

What it all comes down to is that Penny (who is currently wearing some cute, and free! hand-me-downs) won’t be carrying a cell phone in Elementary school not because I have issues with it (although I do), but because I’m too cheap to buy her one. And perhaps all the money that I’ll save by handling her poopy cloth diapers for all those years will make it possible to build that Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired house in the Tennessee countryside that I was sketching out earlier today.

What’s the driving factor behind your parenting decisions? Whatever will keep your kid from life behind bars? Whatever prevents you from being blamed in 10 years of therapy once they’re adults? Or are you just cheap like me?