6 months go by quickly!

I did it! After months of not wanting to face it, I finally did it! I just finished packing up Little Mommy's 0-3 month clothes. Who knew that it would be so emotional. Let me stop lying-I knew it! Every time I got ready to pack up her first months' clothes, a knot rose in my throat and I became tearful, knowing that I did not want to face the challenge of packing away her first set of clothes. I can remember almost every outfit and when she wore it as I fold up these tiny clothes, reflecting back on the past 6 months. Folks weren't lying when they said the time goes by incredibly fast. It's amazing to think that she was so tiny as I'm looking at her chubby little legs now. I can't believe that my little 6 pound, 5 ounce baby is now almost twenty pounds, sitting up, and even attempting to pull up on her own. I feel so conflicted crying as I pack up her clothes as we prepare space for her new outfits, knowing that there are numerous parents who never get the opportunity to see their little ones transition to a new phase in life. I am so grateful that she is healthy and continues to grow and develop but there is a little pang in my heart knowing that she will never be this tiny again, that this phase of her childhood is only a memory. Looking back at the outfit in which we brought her home brings back clear memories of the day that she was born, the time in the hospital, and the day that we went home. It makes me sad to know that this part of her infancy is gone but makes me happy to know that we've come so incredibly far. I think back on the significant struggles that we had in the beginning with her losing weight, her bouts of gas and milk protein allergies, and her difficulties falling and staying asleep. I think about how hard and frustrating breastfeeding was at the beginning and how we worked as a team to make it a success. I chuckle at the fact that she was so determined to breastfeed that she darn near milked my breasts with her tiny little hands. Now breastfeeding is a breeze for the both of us and I am immensely appreciative of the time with her as only a mother and baby can share. I recently read a blog on Huffington Post about a baby who self-weaned off of the breast at 18 months and how emotionally difficult it was for the mother, as she realized that she would never get those moments back with her baby. She didn't even have time to get her mind and heart ready for the process as her little one made the decision that she didn't need the booby anymore. I found myself heartbroken for her and could only imagine how emotional I would be and will be when the time comes as it certainly will. As I pack up her little baby booties and her tiny little caps, I imagine that I will be even more emotional than I am now as another chapter closes and another opens in her life. I know that each time I pack up a new set of clothes, it is a sign that she is growing and continuing to become the little girl that God intended her to be. That's what my mind tells me. My heart tells me that time is going by so quickly and before I know it, she'll be walking, talking, and this phase in her life will be a distant memory.

Week 16: It's Almost Over

February 1, 2013...I have never been so sad to see a new month come in. It is with a very heavy heart that I welcome this new month as it marks the month in which life goes back to "normal" or to my new normal as I go back to work in 10 days. Wow-less than 2 weeks to go and I still can't imagine leaving her with anyone else. I ache in the pit of my stomach and my heart hurts thinking about not being with her all day, every day. I know that I should be grateful for the 16 weeks that I have had with her, especially when others have had to return to work in 6 weeks, but my heart is not listening to what my mind keeps trying to communicate. I just wrote out a list of instructions for our caregiver, including the litte nuances about rubbing her tummy as she is falling asleep or singing the "Pee Pee" song when she gets her pamper changed. I worry about how well she will be able to do all that I have listed. I know that she can't replace me but I want Little Mommy to be as comfortable as possible and not have to adjust too drastically to the changes resulting from her mommy being a career woman. I'm sure that she will be just fine-she has adjusted amazingly well to any situations that have presented themselves thus far. She is continuously complimented on her pleasant disposition and wonderful personality. Each time that I have worried about her ability to deal with new situations, she has repeatedly shown me that she can thrive in any environment. It will definitely be me who has the difficulty time adjusting. I am sure that there will be numerous occasions on February 11th and beyond when I break out in tears at work because I miss her so much. A co-worker recommended bringing in pictures to help in the adjustment but pictures can't give me sloppy wet open-mouthed kisses on my cheek, as she just started doing last week. I can't watch pictures sleep comfortably in my arms and nuzzle against my chest. I can't watch a picture achieve her developmental milestones for the first time. A friend mentioned that my daughter will now look forward to me coming home and I get to appreciate the joy of her being excited to see me. I just listened and chuckled to myself because Little Mommy is already excited to see me every time she wakes up. I don't need to leave her for 8 hours to experience this joy. Other mothers before me have had to leave their little ones with caregivers, including my own, and I'm sure that we will both be just fine, I'm just not looking forward to the adjustment. Not so long ago, no one could have convinced me that I would love someone so much that I'd be willing to give up my career to be with them. I always imagined how a child would fit into my career. Now I'm trying to figure out how my career will fit into my role as a mother. My, my, my-how my priorities have changed. Thankfully, I chose to come to Louisiana for these last few days as David is in Haiti. I get to spend undistracted time with her while getting the support of my family. I can rely on my mother to get my daughter adjusted to the bottle and get emotional support from all of my ya-yas (the women of my family) in helping me get mentally and emotionally prepared to return to work. Mommy and I took Little Mommy down to the French Quarter today so that we could check out the Superbowl festivities and introduce her to New Orleans. She was so enthralled with all of the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding her. It was so cute to watch her as she experienced all of this for the first time. She couldn't eat because she was so busy looking around and taking it all in. She got so upset when I put her under the breastfeeding cover and kept trying to pull it back or kick it off. She finally decided that sightseeing was more important than eating and fussed until I stopped feeding her and removed the cover so that she could see all of the sights again. This was a fantastic way to wrap up maternity leave, spending it with the strong women in my family and enjoying the comfort of being back home. This trip has certainly helped me get my mind right to return to work. We'll see how it goes!

Week 9: Little Mommy's First Trip

David was heading out to Haiti for work so I decided to spend the time with my family in Louisiana because I was too scared to go it alone for two weeks. Nervous was not the word to describe how I felt embarking upon my and Amara's first out-of-state excursion. The longest we've traveled has been about 30 minutes away from the house. The thought of an airplane ride with a two month old gave me waves of stomach upset. Questions kept flooding my mind as the date approached. What should I put in the diaper bag? How would she handle the ride? Would her ears be OK with taking off and landing? How would breastfeeding work on the plane? What if she started crying? What if someone on the plane next to us had a cough? How do I change a diaper on the plane? What if she blows out her pamper? What happens if I have to go to the bathroom? How do I put my carry-on bag in the overhead compartment with a baby strapped to my chest? How do I access the bag in the middle of the flight? What if she's "that baby"-the one that cries throughout the entire flight? What happens if her ears start hurting? What happens if she gets a fever since she just got her 2 month shots two days before traveling? ? How will she adjust to being away from home? Would it be better for me to just tough it out by myself so that she doesn't have to travel? All of these (and more) crossed my mind over and over again. I booked non-stop tickets to make it easier for both of us. I searched numerous websites to get answers to most of the questions. I even bought several "change friendly" outfits and started packing for her several days in advance but nothing could prepare me for the anxiety that I experienced taking her out of our safe relatively germ-free home and into a busy airport and then into an airplane with recirculated air. I nearly had an anxiety attack as we approached the airport. I found myself queasy and short of breath just thinking about all of the possible scenarios that could go wrong. I was so nervous going through security that my hands were shaking and my palms were sweaty, which doesn't work well going through the security checkpoint where they require a hand swab since I was carrying a baby. The TSA guy actually asked me why I was so nervous! When I told him that I was traveling with my daughter for the first time, he told me that I was doing a great job and to relax. I took a deep breath and did just that! As soon as I did, I heard a voice yell out, "Baby!" David had returned to the security checkpoint to see us off, risking missing his own flight to Haiti at Reagan National two hours later. The TSA worker's words and David's presence gave me the boost I needed to just enjoy the experience. I prayed out loud as I walked to the gate, thanking God that He had already blessed the trip. Once we got to the gate, I made sure to pay attention to everyone waiting to board. I needed to check out who was coughing, sneezing, or just looked sickly so that I could avoid sitting next to them on the plane. Little did I know that there were only 30 people on the flight so Amara and I got an entire section of the plane to ourselves. I still paid attention to where the white-haired gentleman with the hacking cough sat but the plane was so empty that it really didn't matter. Amara did wonderfully, sleeping through about half of the flight and enjoying the other half looking around and talking to me. The only time that she cried was when I needed to put her back in the carrier to get off of the plane. She was absolutely amazing! She is truly a remarkable baby and I felf bad for selling her short in worrying so much about how she would handle traveling. I didn't think that one could feel admiration for such a tiny person but I do! I admire how well she adapts and how curious she is about her environment. She didn't get fussy about her schedule being interrupted or about being in a foreign environment. I really am learning a lot from this little one in how to take it all in stride. I am also developing a new-found appreciation for all of the mothers out there who have had to travel with little ones. I apologize to everyone to whom I gave the "side-eye" or "stank face" to when I saw you coming down the aisle with your kids, secretly praying that you didn't sit next to me. I now appreciate all that went into getting the little ones ready to travel and the mental stamina that it takes to get them on the plane and to keep them occupied.

Week 8

It's been a while since my last post. Yay rural America for the lack of consistent internet access! Week 8: Two month shots This week marks two significant parenting and pediatric milestones: 1. This is the last week that she will be referred to in weeks 2. Little Mommy and I survived her first set of shots. It brought tears to my eyes as we approached her 2 month birthday, as it indicated a new phase in her life and the half-way point of my maternity leave. She will no longer be referred to as being (_) weeks old. She has now transitioned into months. Wow! 2 months old already, which means that my maternity leave is at the half-way mark. I am so not ready to go back to work-I doubt that I ever will be "ready" to go back. The thought of it brings me to tears every single time. I really hope that it becomes easier as the date quickly approaches. I guess there are some women out there who are eager to get back to work and, prior to her being born, I would have bet that I would have been one of them, but I'm not. I dread leaving her with someone else. I already lament over the milestones that I may miss while taking care of other folks' kids. I'm already envious of moms who get to stay at home and enjoy all of their little ones' firsts when they first occur, not having to hear about it from the nanny or the daycare provider. These are fleeting thoughts, as I want to focus on enjoying the time that I have left with her, but the time is going by so fast that February will be here before I know it. Milestone 2: 2 month vaccines-I never really understood how one person could suffer from another's pain until I experienced her receiving her first set of vaccines. I tried my best to prepare both of us for them, describing to her what would happen and that I would be right there with her. I even went so far as to try ordering the combination vaccines myself since her pediatrician did not offer them as the combo vaccines are not as readily available to privately insured patients as they are to Medicaid patients. I was really frustrated about this-as much as I support some of my salary going towards providing care to underserved children, the children to which I provide care when not on maternity leave, I still don't understand why my child, who is privately insured, can't enjoy the same benefit of having less pokes. She will end up geting 2 additonal pokes at almost each of her well baby visits due to politics, capitolism, and collective bargaining. How is that fair!!! My efforts to get the combination vaccine proved futile as the cost of ordering each individual vaccine made me understand why most private pediatricians don't offer it-they can't afford it!!! I even prescribed and applied EMLA, a numbing cream for her legs, thinking that I could save her from the pain of shots. Between the challenges of applying the cream the cream solo on some very wiggly legs and the numbing effect wearing off 3 hours after the shots, it made me wonder if I should have just let her get through the pain right when she got the shots. Instead, she had to relive the painful experience all over again when the pain started that evening. She handled the shots fairly well, crying with each poke for a little bit and then calming down a few minutes after she got them. We were even able to make it up to DC for me to get some stuff done for my medical license and for me to stop off so that some of my coworkers could see her. We were out and about for about 2 hours after she got her shots and she was asleep the entire time! I was so relieved-the EMLA worked! I had successfully avoided her experiencing significant pain, or so I thought. By the time we got home and she awoke from her nap about 3 hours after she got the shots, she began crying in pain like I've never heard before. Every time she moved her little chubby legs, she would cry so hard that I thought that she would lose her breath. She would calm down for a minute and then try to move her legs again, not realizing that moving her legs created more pain. The look on her face combined with her intermittent wailing and attempts to catch her breath literally broke my heart. I felt so helpless because nothing I did would console her. My mom called in the middle of it just to check in to see how she was doing-apparently maternal instinct extends to grandchildren because she somehow knew just when to call. She suggested that I put cool compresses on her legs but every time I tried to come close to her little legs, she would draw them up to her body, which caused her even more pain. It took everything in me not to break down crying too. I tried so hard not to burst into tears because I didn't want to stress her out any more than she already was. I tried to hold it together and figure out what to do because putting anything on those cute chubby thighs was not an option. After a dose of Tylenol and me stripping us both down to do some skin-to-skin, she finally calmed down. Once she let out a quiet little sigh of exhaustion, I finally allowed myself to cry. Tears rolled down my face and onto her little back as I thought about how bad I felt that I couldn't do anything to avoid her experiencing pain. I thought about all of the families I counseled to, "Just give them a little Tylenol, they should be ok by the time you get home." I had even had the audacity to tell families that their little ones don't really feel more pain after the first couple of shots so they should feel comfortable in their children getting several at a time. I laughed out loud a little bit at how riiculous that all sounded in that moment. I apologize to all the parents with whom I've shared this ridiculous advice. I have NEVER even considered what parents go through the evening after their children get shots, not even when I was on call and got parent calls about children being uncomfortable or fussy after shots. I always thought, "How bad could it be? It's just a couple of shots." That was until this week and 2 hours of continous wailing. My pediatric training did neither prepared me to really understand what parents go through after situations like this nor did it prepare me to be the parent going through such a difficult time. I fully support vaccinating children, but my little one's cries of pain and discomfort really had me second-guessing my decision. This doesn't mean that she won't get her shots, she will not be one of those children. However, I am going into the situation with eyes wide-open and will be better emotionally prepared. I will also be applying more EMLA and trying to join in the collective bargaining processes to get her a couple of those combination vaccines! I know that I can't avoid her experiencing pain, it is obviously a part of life, but best believe that i will do everything in my power to minimize how much she has to feel.

Week 7: She's growing up so quickly

We survived our first full week with David back at work! The week went very well, with the exception of Monday's emotional breakdown. It started with work requests of my time. I don't think that the folks at the university got the memo that I'm on maternity leave. I did what was needed and then, already frustrated, headed out to DC to take care of some stuff for my medical license. Flash forward almost 2 hours later, I'm lost, trying not to let the volcano of emotions that I'm feeling erupt in the car because, despite our extended trip, my little one was still asleep and I didn't want to wake and upset her. So I cried silently, despising the District of Columbia and its insane street lay-out. Little mommy didn't get fussy until we were about 5 minutes away from the house. Thank you Jesus! Unfortunately, all of that suppressed rage got my mind going and I fought being in a funk all day. I found myself questioning why I lived out here, wishing I was back in either California or Louisiana, where streets don't change names and then change back within blocks of each other. I questioned myself as a mom, wondering why I didn't Google map the location again before leaving so that I knew what the building looked like, thereby allowing me to stay within the 1 1/2 hour window that I had given her breastfeeding schedule. I even let issues between my husband and I creep into my head. As I battled all of this stuff in my mind and intermittently wept throughout the day, I kept looking at her and being reminded that this was all just such small stuff compared to spending time with her. I realized that I shouldn't waste it moping around the house because of insensitive people or a jacked up city lay-out. I kept my internal turmoil to myself when David got home, although I couldn't hide the occasional tears that came as I battled with myself. Later on, I thought about how challenging last Monday was compared to this week and actually laughed at myself for being so upset. I can see now that last week prepared me for this week. I didn't even think about this being my first full week with the baby until this moment. Reflecting on last week also made me think about my life in general and how things have never come easily for me. I'm not saying that to complain but to appreciate that I would not have a testimony without the many tests that I've gone through. Each test that God has put in my path has prepared me for the next challenge and made me stronger. From being raised in a single parent household with a teenage mom and surviving some pretty significant life events to successfully completing medical school and getting married and having a family has been quite a journey. Each and every obstacle along the way was put in place to strengthen me and to help me prepare for the next phase. Of course, I don't have this epiphany in the middle of it (hence the tears this Monday) but I can usually get there once I've pushed through the situation. Talking to my cousin (thank you Draeh) and my Sands (thank you Jacquie) really helped me understand that these emotional roller coaster rides are still part of the post-partum experience. Again, so not prepared! No one mentioned anything about the "Fourth Trimester" in medical school! The other realization that I had this week is that my little one is growing up so fast. I can't believe that she is almost 2 months old. As I sit in bed watching her sleep, it gives me pause to see how quickly she's growing, both in size and in development. She now fits the full length of her bassinet, which is amazing because when we first brought her home, she looked like she was floating in it because she was so tiny. Now her little legs bend in her rocker/sleeper when just a few weeks ago it looked like the rocker was swallowing her up. I cried a little this morning to realize that I no longer need to support her little head to breastfeed on the breastfeeding pillow, her first sign of independence I guess, and that her little body now extends the full length of the pillow. Of course, she gave me reason to laugh in the middle of my moment as she pulled away from my breast like she had just finished the best milkshake she ever had, with this big gummy grin with both of her hands raised in the air as if she just signaled a touchdown. Developmentally, she is advancing so quickly. I am certain that all parents believe that their child is the smartest most advanced child to ever be born. I see it every day and never question parents who tell me that their child said his or her first word at 4 months or that their child started walking at 7 months. I usually just chuckle to myself and go on with the visit. However, I am convinced that this child is brilliant! She's the only baby I've heard of who attempted to milk her mommy when the milk hadn't come in yet. She literally pulled back on the nipple while pressing my breast with both hands. It would have been funny had I not been so upset about my empty boobies. Each week she has done something else that makes me wonder if she's been here before. At 2 weeks, she started shimmying down my chest and shifting her weight to either side in order to fall in the fold of my arm when I would put her on my shoulder to be burped. I know it sounds crazy-so I had my husband videotape it just in case our pediatrician gave me the look that I usually give my parents when they tell me outlandish developmental tales! This week, instead of crying when she's awake and hungry, she just looks at my chest, then back up at me, and starts making her breastfeeding requests in grunts and grins. I have found myself negotiating with her when I need to delay her feedings, either to give her medicine or because it's too early. She gives me the funniest look-a raised left eyebrow, which has historically been my signature look, when her request has been denied. Yesterday, while she was sleeping next to me, I looked down and her little legs were crossed over each other and her hand was up at her forehead,like she was a big girl recovering from a stressful day. I almost laughed out loud to see such a little person in such a big person pose. She is just too funny! She's also more expressive, developing more ways to express herself. Now she makes this little noise, "Aya" when I am away from her or she's trying to get my attention, at least that's what I think she's doing. Let me tell it, the child is already ready for flashcards and sign language lessons! Appreciating the changes that I am seeing makes me so happy that I have this time to spend with her and already makes me sad about having to go back to work. I keep reminding myself that I still have over two months, but, seeing how quickly the first two have passed, that's not a whole lot of time. On that note, I think I'll stop as the thought of leaving her is bringing me to tears.

A week of thanks

It's almost 6 am and I just finished breastfeeding. I couldn't really go back to sleep so I decided to write. Perhaps it's the fact that, despite AAP recommendations, I have Amara lieing next to me and her little jerks and conversations in her sleep prevent me from doing so or it could be that the thoughts racing in my mind over the past week are driving me to stay awake. As I sit here in her nursery (someone might as well use it since she spends all of her time in our room), I am reflecting back on the last week and, although I am very thankful that it was a shortened week, I have enjoyed the challenges and great moments each day brought. Amara and I enjoyed our first walk together, we celebrated her first Thanksgiving, and we also suffered through her first experience with overstimulation. Taking her on her first walk brought new perspective to something as simple as strolling around the neighborhood. I experienced it in a completely different way. The garbage truck driving by seemed louder, the brick-paved sidewalk seemed bumpier, and the air seemed more crisp. I found myself narrating our walk as if it was some amazing journey through an undiscovered land, describing everything that we heard and saw, trying to imagine what was being seen, smelled, felt, and heard from her perspective. I had not previously experienced such a simple walk in such vivid detail and felt like she and I were the only folks on the street, that was of course until Little Missy snapped me back into reality by letting me know that she had had enough of my talking by grunting for me to be quiet. I chuckled as I headed back home while she enjoyed a cat nap-peaking up at me every couple of minutes, realizing that, for her the experience was probably something completely different, not this deeply educational sensory-engaging experience, but a simple walk to relax her mind. Later I realized that it must have been a little more than relaxing as she refused to go down for a nap afterwards and was up for the rest of the day. Thanksgiving was an interesting experience. We were invited over to our friends' home to celebrate the holiday and gladly accepted as cooking a full Thanksgiving dinner was not a very practical use of my time, even though I gave it serious consideration. I was excited to spend time with good friends and enjoy delicious food (they can really throw down in the kitchen) but I was also hesitant, worrying about things I not previously given consideration to, like how many people would be there, would anyone have a cold, and what do I do if folks want to hold or touch her. After all, she is only 6 weeks old! Is it too soon to take her out to someone else's home? What happens if she gets cranky? What do I do if she can't handle all of the stimulation? How do I keep her on her current schedule? Oh goodness-will I have to breastfeed in a crowded room? Despite having a breastfeeding cover, it still stressed me out. I didn't want to say no, not wanting to turn down delicious food and not wanting to disappoint David, as he is the social one of the family, but at the same time considering Amara's needs and how the evening could possibly impact her. What a struggle going on inside my head! I decided to go for it and we had a great time, despite my concerns about the overstimulation she was experiencing and how we were going to pay the price later. I had a feeling that it was going to be rough as she breastfed for an unusually long period while we were there, which is what she sometimes does when she's stressed out. When we got home she could not go to sleep! A combination of walking, rocking, singing, and sitting in the dark for three hours and she finally fell asleep near 1 AM, which is so not what I wanted to happen. As we sat in the dark, waiting for her little eyes to finally close, I thought about what it must have been like for her to experience all of those new sights, sounds, and smells. New faces leaning in to see her; new hands touching her; new voices greeting her must have been a lot to deal with for such a little person. The television blaring with the game on, children running around, yelling and playing video games, loud voices reacting to the football game, and the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen were likely triggering all kinds of brain activity. I questioned my choice in going over to someone's home so early in her little life. Did I make the best decision for her or did I let other considerations supercede my maturing maternal instincts. I also though about my own challenges in quieting my brain after a hectic or stressful day (hence writing at 6 AM when I am already sleep-deprived). When I was a little girl I used to have to envision black space and following a white light through the space to keep me from thinking too much and allowing my mind to slow down enough to go to sleep. I worried that I had passed this down to her, knowing how difficult it can be to have a brain that sometimes won't shut down long enough to have restful sleep and how much that can impact her ability to relax. It certainly allows you to be more productive but you certainly pay the price down the road. I hope that it's simply that the experience of being in a new environment with so many different things going on was a lot for a 6 week old little brain to handle. We survived the night and had a pretty good day today, except for the challenge of multi-tasking this evening (breastfeeding, putting her to sleep, and grading midterms-simultaneously in the dark). I even had to use my big toe to turn down the brightness on my laptop's keyboard since I didn't have a free hand! Certainly this week, and the past 6 weeks, have made me think about the things in my life for which I am grateful and made me realize that all of the other stuff is not that important. I even came up with a list as I sat in the dark: 1. Amara 2. Supportive husband, family, and friends 3. Sleep 4. A good latch (breastfeeding moms can really appreciate this) 5. The book What to Expect the First Year-thank you Fern! 6. All mothers who were honest with me about their first couple of months-I know I'm not alone 7. My pledge process-a different type of hazing but I'm certainly more prepared than most 8. All products made by Medela (again-breastfeeding moms can appreciate this) 9. Smoothie pacifier by Avent (This is what my breasts are thankful for; we waited until 4 weeks to introduce it and boy does it make a difference) 10. Long toes-not only to type but also to pick stuff up when I have a wiggly baby in my arms (FYI-I do clean the stuff off after picking it up!)

Paternity Leave Ends

Week 6: Daddy goes back to work Day 1 So my husband David, who is also a pediatrician, went back to work today. What a day! I knew that it would be hard but not this hard. Yesterday I tried to give him as much quality time as I could with our little one given that his time with her during the week would be limited due to work. They enjoyed watching some football until Madame Fussy Fuss (her alter ego when she's gassy) showed up! Getting up throughout the night on my own was a huge challenge-watching him sleeping every time I got up was a bit difficult but it was something that I had anticipated and we had discussed during counseling. As poorly as he functioned with sleep deprivation during paternity leave, I couldn't imagine how he would do at work! Patients' lives and his job are at stake so it is certainly worth the sacrifice. It doesn't make it any easier but it's what a good wife and mother would do. The morning started off rough. As it came closer time for David to leave, I could tell that it hurt him deeply to leave. His response to having to leave made me question the doubts that I had about his excitement in becoming a father. His tears spoke volumes as to how much she means to him. Amara's usually asleep at the time that he needed to leave but, even with my attempts to put her back to sleep, she wouldn't go. It was as if she knew that her daddy had to go back to work today and she wanted to send him off. Watching him cry as he held her broke my heart. It's amazing-I think that children, even small babies, can feel those emotions because when he started crying she looked at me as if something was wrong and started crying herself. We walked him downstairs and he burped her, which is usually his middle of the night job, cried again, and finally headed out. I held it together pretty well while he was heading out but cried, first to see how hurt he was to leave, but also in thinking about when I will have to leave her in February. I know that it's only November, but time goes by so quickly. David decided that it is probably best that Amara and I go to Louisiana when he heads to Haiti next month. I can't imagine the pain he will feel when he actually has to leave her for almost 2 weeks. Once David left, I still needed to submit an abstract for work (my job didn't get the memo that I'm on maternity leave). I'm thinking that Little Mommy would go back to sleep since she stayed up past her morning nap-think again! She would not go back to sleep and breastfed every hour. I could feel myself getting frustrated because I had a deadline and it didn't make sense, at least not to me, that she needed to feed that often. I tried walking her and giving her the pacifier but nothing worked. When I felt myself getting very irritated, I put her in her bassinet and took a minute to get myself together. I thought, "God blesses you with an opportunity to love and guide and help mold a person into who they are supposed to be." I imagined Him looking down at me and shaking His head at me for allowing myself to get frustrated with her, with the blessing that I had waited years to conceive and receive. I quickly changed my attitude and got her dressed for the day. I then realized that things were as different for her as they were for David and I. The daddy person was no longer there to burp her and "Walk it Out" at night when Mommy finished breastfeeding. She really hadn't seen him since 12 hours prior. She saw that he and I were upset and likely felt the emotions. She was probably breastfeeding because she was also a bit stressed out and that was her only way of dealing with it. I felt so bad about feeling frustrated once I briefly reflected on the situation. Lesson learned! I got the abstract done and was even able to shower in the 30 minutes that she napped before my doctor's appointment, which leads me to my next stress. I go to the Ob/Gyn's office for my six week exam, only to find out that the appointment was in her other office about 30 minutes away. I had scheduled this appointment purposefully as a trial run in getting myself to a spot on time and in driving with Amara by myself. I had not planned on freeway driving, a 30 minute excursion, or the wait that would be incurred because I missed my appointment slot by the time I got there. I also had not packed the diaper bag for such an excursion. I thought to reschedule but the wait time for the appointment would have likely taken me next year to see her. I decided to woman up and head over to Greenbelt. A 15 minute drive plus 45-60 minutes at the doctor's was all that we were prepared to handle. Instead, it was an hour in the car (back and forth), an hour and 1/2 wait for the doctor, and a power outage while waiting in my shirt and paper skirt. Did I mention that Amara got so frustrated in her car seat that she cried and scratched her little face? I was really pissed at that point and ready to cry because I should have clipped her nails yesterday, which is something that David and I have done together. In between him preparing to go back to work and me trying to get two abstracts submitted, we failed to do it and she eneded up paying the cost. I guess this is my first lesson in prioritizing my child over everything else. It will not happen again! She comes first! She did exceptionally well at the doctor's office and didn't fuss until it was time to leave because she doesn't like being confined in the car seat. She cried so hard that she lost her breath. I would have lost my mind had it not been for the fact that I was on the phone with my mom at the time. It truly broke my heart to see and hear her crying that hard and that the best thing for her was for me to continue driving until we got home. It was her first time being in the back seat without me. Even typing it now makes me cry. Who knew that something as simple as where I sat for the past 6 weeks could be so important. I guess it is something that we both have to get over if we're ever going to go anywhere else by ourselves. My mom and aunt told me that it gets better and that we should go out on little excursions everyday so that both of us get used to it. It's funny that they said that because I was simultaneously thinking that we would never leave the house again unless I was in the back seat! Now we're at home and, after some serious skin-to-skin time, she's napping and I'm crying, reflecting, and writing. Day 1 of Amara and I on maternity leave-completed!