Postpartum

Everyone tells you to look out for signs for Postpartum Depression after you give birth.  To me, there must be a fine line between depression and the exhaustion and the overwhelming feeling of being a new mom.  There is nothing in this world that brings me more joy than my son but I'll be completely honest....this motherhood stuff is hard work.  Everyday you question whether your doing it right and if you tried something else would it make things just a little bit easier.  A friend of mine told me that somewhere in all the baby madness you have to find time to mourn your previous life.  That life where you could accomplish 10 things in one day.  That life where you could get eight hours of sleep, have a conversation that doesn't involve talking about when the baby last ate, pooped, peed, bathed, etc or share a quiet moment with your significant other.  Once you mourn that previous life then you realize how very blessed you are and how that life before never felt so full and complete as it does with your child in it.

I have to say personally that for the first few weeks I was in a state of worry (not that I don't worry about him now).  From the moment he was born I was worried about him.  Why isn't he crying?  What do you mean breathing problems? NICU?  Oxygen bubble? Antibiotics?  I worried about his health and well being since the moment he popped out.  Then four days later the doctors and nurses said he is all better and that we could take him home.  Now the questions that racked my brain were.... Is it warm enough in the house?  Why does he sneeze so much?  Does he have a cold?  Why is he all wet?  Is he sweating? (nope he was peeing himself...straight out of the diaper).  And trust me there were many more concerning questions.  I never experienced the euphoric feeling that most women have when their happy, healthy baby is born.  I was consumed with worry.  And to make matters worse I have had a difficult time with breastfeeding.  You feel like your failing because you can't provide for your child what nature says you should.  It wasn't after a very long, trying day full of tears for Justin to come to me and say "Enough!"  Enough of beating myself up about not being able to solely breastfeed.  Enough of worrying and stressing.  Costner will be okay if we supplement with formula and most importantly we will all be a happier family unit.  I love my husband for intervening and making me see that being a mother is not about doing things perfectly but doing them to the best of my ability and most of all having a happy, healthy baby.  Which we do.....most of the time. :)

Here are a couple new photos of my little nugget.....Costner is almost 6 weeks old and a little over 8lbs.

 My Mr. Magoozles

 Justin and Costner getting a nap in after a busy day!!

He loves his tummy time!!

Fuzzy Brain

I have been trying to think of something creative to write for the last few days and nothing seems to come to mind.  This what people must call "New Mom Fuzzy Brain."  Yep, that's right....I am officially a mother to a beautiful, healthy baby boy.  Costner Cooper Bradshaw was born February 15, 2011 weighing in at 6lb 4oz.  Let me just say this...nothing prepares you for childbirth and the trying days afterward.  I was actually mad at my friends who have children for not warning me about what was to come that faithful hour when my doctor said it was time to push.  Grant it, I know experiences vary from person to person but someone should have given me heads up on how completely taxing childbirth would be on my mind, body and soul.  The utter exhaustion I felt the first few days we were home made me worry... "Is this how I'm going to feel in the months to come?"  Luckily, things do get better as your body recovers and you adjust to the lack of sleep.  

Let me be completely clear that I would go through it again tomorrow (with a few alterations) for my handsome little man.  The way my heart melts when Costner assumes the frog position on my chest and falls into a deep sleep is indescribable.  I find myself staring at him in awe of how perfect he is to me and then I wonder..."Is he warm enough?" "Did he get enough to eat?" "If he ate at 12pm, then he should eat between 2pm and 3pm?"  "Which boob did I last feed him on?"  "How can we get him to sleep in his bassinet and not on our chests?"  It is a never ending quest for the right answer.  All I can really do is my best and hope that is good enough for him.  My dad said "Whitney, all you can do is take it day by day and soon enough you'll find it gets a little easier."  That was the best advice I could have received.

Here are some pictures.....

I do want to say one last thing.  Thank you to my truly wonderful husband.  Justin, you are amazing.  You have been my rock these past two weeks.  Your unwavering support and love is incredible.  You are a master at the diaper change....his motto is swipe, swipe, dipe!!  We are so blessed to have you and I am thankful we created such an amazing son.  I love you!!  Thank you!!

Banana Pop!

My master bathroom was not made for a pregnant woman.  It has an over sized jetted tub that takes too long to fill up and twice as long to try to keep warm.  My bathroom also includes a great stand up shower but I soon found out that shaving my legs is a bit difficult with a 7lb basketball jutting out from my stomach.  I need a ledge to prop my leg up on.  So....every couple of days I transfer over to our guest bathroom, which is equipped with  a standard size bathtub/shower, to accomplish the artful task of shaving my legs.

The other day I was showering in the guest bathroom when I realized that I didn't have my razor.    Knowing that Justin was in the kitchen I yelled his name and giving him a couple of minutes just in case he was on the phone.  Five minutes lapsed and Justin had yet to materialize so I thought to myself, "he must not have heard me, he is across the house."  I took a deep breath and yelled his name again.  A few seconds later Justin, wide-eyed, appeared at the bathroom door.

"What is it babe?" he asks.

Looking at him shamelessly I say, "Were you on the phone?"

"Yeah"

"You got off the phone for me?"

"Well, yeah....you screamed my name.  What is it?"  Let me point out that he says scream and I say "yelled".  I believe there is a difference.

"I need my razor," I exclaim with one of my 'please don't be mad at me' smiles.

"Babe, you can't scream my name at this point in the game.  I thought something had happened" he says as he walks away to retrieve my razor.  At 37 weeks pregnant, he's right, anything can happen.  Perhaps yelling his name was not the smartest idea.

When my wonderfully, understanding husband returns with my razor I say to him, "maybe we need a code word I can use when I call your name when something does occur concerning the baby."

To this he states without even thinking, "Banana Pop!"

"Banana Pop?"

Nodding his head, "Banana Pop!"

Well, that was that.  When my water breaks while in the grocery store I will be anxiously yelling "Justin? Banana Pop!"  I have to admit it is a funny code word but I like it because it is uniquely our own.  A great funny story to pass down to our son.  I like it...."Banana Pop!"

I giggle at Justin as he walks away, leaving me to my legs.  The only thing I can think of now are those delicious banana milkshakes I drank twice a day during our honeymoon in Thailand.  Mmmm.....how good would a banana milkshake be right about now?