Babymoon

Photo by Tessa, age 4

I had forgotten so many things about having a newborn babe. I don't know how I ever could have, but I did. As a doula I always wish the mamas I work with a happy babymoon, and tell them what a unique time it is. There are things that you experience in these first magical weeks that will never come again in the life of this child...

This time it's our babymoon, and here is what I don't want to forget.

The second smile... just as delightful as the first.

Baby breath; sweet and warm and heavy, like the smell of honeycomb on a warm day.

Fuzz on arms and earlobes and foreheads.

The surprise of being piddled on during a diaper change- every time it happens.

How unbelievably hard they can clamp down on your nipple with just their little gums.

REM sleep with their eyes open.

The helplessness when their cry becomes high pitched and fervent, and nothing you do for them can stop it, till you just hold their little ear to your lips and beg the pain to leave them alone. Like tonight.**

The inhale-suck-exhale-swallow sounds as they breastfeed, or better still, when they are so ravenous they skip the exhale all together for 8 gulps, and the stop to pant!

The slow motion punches they do over and over, often accompanied by random, sudden leg kicks.

Rooting at your cheek, and if they get a chance, their warm little mouth finding your chin.

Staring into each others eyes endlessly.

A 20 minute car ride that turns into an hour because of stops to calm this squalling little being before your heart splits in two.

Smiles in their sleep.

Punishingly sharp little fingernails that are impossible to cut, even if you could find the clippers.

Squeaks.

Nibbling on soft toes, necks, and...heck, everything.

6 dirty diapers in 4 hours.

The ongoing deliberation over who he looks like... the more siblings, the more possibilities.

Projectile poop.

Getting their tight, squirmy little bodies into an outfit whose designer obviously has never dressed a newborn.

His tiny little frog butt.

Flared toes.

Answering the question of how old he is --in days.

Scarfing food to get back to him.

Having a police officer check on you as you are pulled over to the side of the road to breastfeed, and the surprised look on his face as he lowers his flashlight and says "Carry on."

Diaper cream under your nails.

3AM.

Hiccups. Lots of them.

Not knowing whether you are wet from pee or spit-up or milk, or your own tears.

Answering folks who tell you "He's so beautiful" with "I think so, too."

***

**It took me 3 days to finish this post because Jonah has begun to cry - a lot. After some web browsing I have learned that grass green poop may be a dairy allergy.

I thought #5 would be a cakewalk. Welcome to uncharted waters.

As of this morning I have started a fun new diet, after just two weeks of eating like a normal person. Adam, sweet Adam saw me crying when Jonah was hysterically shrieking and asked if I was ok. I explained the new situation and that I was starting a new diet to help Jonah, but that I was crying because it just breaks my heart to hear my baby in pain.

Adam kissed my face, told me he loved me and that it wasn't fair, and then tidied up the living room and made me a dairy-free sandwich.

I think things are going to be ok. We have been through worse than this.

***

2:31 AM ... the exhausted baby in my arms is staring at me with red, puffy eyes and a pained expression. We just had 2 more hours of off/on crying, and he's gearing up for another round.

My confidence from earlier is waining.