Week 8: Farts & Faith

Lexi,

This week you really made the transition from being a "newborn" to being a full-fledged baby. Gone are the days where all you do is eat, sleep, and poop; now, you're awake and busy, interested in what's going on around you, constantly observing... and sucking on your fists. Needless to say, your busy-ness has made it a little more difficult to get things done around the house. When I put you in your swing and leave the room, you're okay for a few minutes, but once you realize that I'm gone, you start squealing and if I don't come back in time, that squeal turns into a cry. Your carseat doesn't put you to sleep very well anymore, either - you're just too interested in the world around you!

Daddy and I took you for your first golf game this week. It was Tuesday evening, and you decided that you were going to have a hungry night, so I only managed to golf every second hole. That's okay though; between you and me, I'm not a very good golfer, so the fewer holes I have to golf, the better. Don't tell Daddy, though. You loved the fresh air and the bumpy ride on the golf cart.

Your two-month doctor's appointment was this week. You now weigh 11.3 lbs - that's almost a full four pounds growth since you were born. The doctor marveled at how much weight you'd gained since your one-month checkup. The crazy thing is that your one-month checkup actually occurred at 6 weeks - so in two weeks, you gained an entire pound. Sometimes I wonder how you're gaining so much weight because you throw up at least every second day. Always at the most inopportune times, too - like last night, when you were nursing, and you threw up all over me. I'd just had a shower and changed into fresh clothes. You like throwing up on clean clothes! Thankfully, throwing up doesn't seem to bother you very much, and it did release a crazy gas bubble that had been bothering you for a few hours. You fussy girl, you.

Speaking of gas, the other night I was nursing you on our front steps, and our cat, Trixie, began nuzzling against your bum. You promptly farted on her head. That ended the nuzzling pretty quickly. With all that gas, you're definitely your father's daughter.

Something very special and beautiful happened this week: you were baptised. Your baptism was celebrated at Tide Lake, the same church where Daddy and I were married nearly two years ago. Your father and I were worried that you were going to fuss through the entire Mass because you'd been very fussy the previous few evenings. While you were a little bit fussy, something magical happened when we took you up to the baptismal font. You fell asleep in Daddy's arms, and a huge smile spread across your face. I truly felt like you were being calmed by the Holy Spirit as you were welcomed into the Catholic faith. You didn't even cry when the water hit your head. You were a perfect angel and it was difficult to hold back the tears. Lexi, my own faith journey has been a difficult one, and while my parents encouraged me to believe in God and to go to church, it wasn't until I was well into my twenties that I began really seeking and found Jesus. I pray that your faith is cemented in you as a child, and that your journey is easier than mine was - although I recognize how things needed to happen the way that they did in my life in order for me to ask Jesus to take the wheel. I know that He has a perfect plan for you, so I trust that no matter how your faith develops, it will be part of that plan.

Love,

Mama

Week 7.5: Better Late Than Never

Lexi,

My goal was to write weekly updates every Wednesday since you were born on a Wednesday morning. Life is so incredibly busy, though, that these updates get shuffled... and shuffled... and shuffled. It's Sunday morning now, and life has been a little bit nuts in the past few days. Southern Alberta is flooding. Entire towns have been evacuated, parts of Calgary and other towns have been evacuated... it's a major natural disaster. It's unbelievable to watch the footage of water flowing freely through the streets of downtown Calgary, and extremely saddening to see how some people are losing their entire homes because of the water. Fortunately, we're safe and sound in Brooks. Medicine Hat is another story - 10,000 residents have been evacuated and two of the three bridges that connect east and west Medicine Hat have been closed. We're just waiting to hear about the third bridge - the TransCanada. Where do you fit into all this? Firstly, I'm so grateful that our little family is safe and sound. Secondly, you don't really fit into this at all, but it's the first natural disaster of significance in your lifetime that's making headlines worldwide.

The past week and a half have been almost blissful - almost. Last Monday, you began smiling like crazy. When I lay you down on the couch for a diaper change (yes, we change you on the leather loveseat in the living room - much easier than hauling you up and down stairs to your change table), I just have to tickle your tummy and speak in a higher pitched voice and your entire face breaks into a huge, beautiful grin. I love watching you smile. Especially moments after a crying spell due to hunger or discomfort - which you have many of. Girl, I don't know what the deal is with your tummy, but it causes you issues. Mostly in the evenings. Any gas just makes you contort and twist and kick and scream and as SOON as a burp or a little poot (okay, so that's what I've been calling your farts lately, sue me) come out, you settle and relax immediately. You're so easy to comfort once your needs have been met. I'd go as far as saying that you're a pretty chill baby. 

I've probably just jinxed it.

You went on your first major road trip this weekend. I had registered for a Crossfit competition in Regina, 500 kms away - approximately a five hour drive with stops. My love, you are so powerful that you turned that five hour drive into an eight hour drive. You were so hungry on the way back that we stopped about every forty minutes, pulled over to the side of the road, and I fed you right there in the car. I began wishing that you'd take a bottle, and I even tried a soother at one point because you were crying so much... but I knew you were hungry, so I fed you. I can't bring myself to let you use a soother. You took it for about three minutes and my heart broke a little bit because I knew you were just hungry. I took a picture of you with the soother - I think it looks really silly on your tiny little face. No judgment to parents who use soothers, but in the bottom of my heart it just didn't feel right. Pulling over to the side of the road every 40 minutes was annoying, but it didn't feel wrong. 

So the Crossfit competition. You were born by C-section seven weeks ago, and I considered dropping out of the competition but I kept putting it off. I began working out about three weeks ago, and even ran in a 5 kilometer road race in Medicine Hat last Sunday - my time was a minute longer than the year before. Not too shabby for six and a half weeks post-partum. With permission from my doctor, who told me to "use pain as your guide", I got back into Crossfit the morning of my six week checkup. The first few workouts back were a little bit iffy, and I took it slow, but my scar never really hurt. My upper abdominals are very weak from being stretched out so far, but overall, I felt really, really good working out. So good, in fact, that I decided to wait until the workouts for the competition were posted before making a decision about whether I should compete or not. Once the workouts were posted on Monday, I was convinced I'd be able to participate. And I did! I finished all three workouts, and ended up placing 12 out of 28 competitors in the scaled division. I felt amazing the whole time, and I was even awarded with the "Spirit of Crossfit" award for participating so shortly after having a baby. I wasn't there to receive the award since we'd left to head back to Brooks, but I feel so honoured for being recognized and so blessed to have the ability to get back to physical activity so quickly. 

The trip wasn't all fantastic, though. Natalie and I arrived at the Sunrise Motel in Regina at 10:00 pm, and I nursed you to sleep at 11. All was well until 2:30 am when you woke up for a meal... and decided to stay up until 6:30 fussing and crying. I rocked you, bicycled your little legs, walked around with you, sang to you, and got increasingly frustrated until 4:30 am when the tears began to flow - I woke up Natalie to take over for a little while because I needed my sleep. I've never felt so selfish in my life. I'm at the point with lack of sleep where if you're crying in the middle of the night, I get frustrated but I know I can nap the next day to make up for lost sleep. With the competition the next day, though, I felt extremely sorry for myself - and felt horrible for that feeling. So many crazy feelings as a mother! It made me realize how selfish I was being for sticking you in your carseat for so many hours so that I could compete. I know it's important to do things for myself, but I can now safely say that any road trip in a vehicle over three hours is out of the question - at least for now. For now, I will keep on doing things for myself, but I'll scale it down a bit. I don't regret going to Regina but I do feel terribly selfish for making that decision. I guess you have to learn somehow. 
You may not know this, little girl, but your mother is the happiest she's ever been. A lot of it has to do with making proper diet and exercise a priority, but just seeing your smiling face every morning is the cherry on top.

Love,

Mama

Week 6: Ups and Downs

Lexi,

Just as quickly as things began to fall into a routine, I saw a side of you that is dark and terrifying in its capacity for making me question how much I enjoy motherhood. 

Don't get me wrong; bring your mother is the single greatest joy of my life (followed closely by my journey with God, and oh, hey, can't forget the thrill of athletic competition). It's just that when you don't poop for three days straight (perfectly normal, I KNOW), and then those three days of pooplessness are followed by three days of irritable, writhing, screaming baby, I ask God for my Lexi back. 

Oh, those three days were not fun. Anxiety rose, fear escalated. What is WRONG with my baby? I kept questioning. And without fail, from multiple sources, came some variation of one of the following responses:

"She's just being a baby."

"Did you maybe eat something that's bothering her?"

"If you think this is bad, you've got another think coming. So-and-so's child projectile vomited for six months and he turned out just fine."

Alright, I get it, I get it. I bring it on myself by complaining about your fussiness, a trap that is much easier to fall into than joyfully accepting one of the trials I've been given and trying to exercise peace, patience, and learn a lesson. But baby, wow. When you finally managed five EXPLOSIVE diapers in one day then fell asleep in my arms that evening, all cocooned up in a soft white blanket like an albino baby burrito, I felt like I had YOU back. My sweet, angelic, hungry-hungry-hippo babe. 

And it hits me: the hard times, the screaming, crying, inconsolable, reminds-me-of-drunk-crying-inconsolable-high-school-girls times, they're a part of you. There will be lots about you that I won't be particularly tickled about (like, say, your lazy middle-of-the-night latch - ouch!) just as I'm sure there'll be plenty about me that doesn't suit your fancy. There probably already is. Like all the food I drop on you. Hey, I have to eat while you eat!

Despite three bad days that I know won't be your only three but that have shown me that we can get through rough patches, this week was ripe with highlights. 

First, though, can we talk about the head butting? It's adorable, but when you're trying to eat and you continually head butt my breast, it makes for a pretty choppy meal, which inevitably leads to hiccups or - sweet Lord, no - the dreaded GAS. Gas that makes you contort your body like some sort of pretzel-turning contortionist. 

Your one-month checkup was this week. I know, it's been six weeks... so sue me. You're now 10 lbs 5 oz, and you'ce grown two whole inches! You also began to emit your first high pitched squeaks this week - heart melting, unless they lead way to cries. There is something about your cries that just break my heart - they hit a place I never knew existed before. And the hardest part... when I can't fix the problem. When you're crying, and I try EVERYTHING to no avail, my heart just breaks. I know you're in pain, and I want to soothe you, but nothing works. I know you'll be okay, since it's just gas, but gas causes you so much anguish. 

And when it's over, and I get a little smile out of you, my heart swells.

And then you projectile vomit all over me.

Love,

Mama 

Week 5: Puke & Tears

Lexi,

Firstly, let me just say how difficult it is to find a moment to write to you! Right now you're eating, and I've managed to contort my body around you so I have my two index fingers free as to type this out on the iPad. You just puked on me - yes, your first puke, about 15 minutes ago - and here you are, hungry again. It's quite apparent that you have my enormous appetite. I pray that you never struggle with body image or food the way that I did for years and years - I hope that I can be a model of health and acceptance of self to you on a daily basis so that you can spend those awkward teen years having fun and being ridiculous with friends instead of worrying about your body every second of every day.

Speaking of puke, I'm a LITTLE wary right now - I ended up taking you to the emergency room yesterday because you had a huge crying episodon Wednesday night (Daddy's 29th birthday) and then you barely ate for 12 hours. That, coupled with really warm, clammy skin caused me concer. Really, if your dad hasn't pointed out how hot you felt, I probably wouldn't have worried. But live is a funny thing - it makes you go into Protector mode. I doubted that you were 100% ok, so I took you to the hospital where, after an hour wait, they informed me that you were perfectly fine. I'm glad I took you in, even though you were just dandy.

At the hospital, they weighed you - you're over 10 pounds no! Would you quit growing so quickly? Although I am enjoying watching you grow and change! During tummy time, you're able to hold up your head for quite a while. You've settled down during changing time - only about 25% of the time do you absolutely wail and howl during changes. The other 75% of the time, you're totally chill. What's the deal with that? You're my Jekyll and Hyde baby - one moment totaliy happy and content, the next - wailing. And for one of three reasons:
1) you're hungry
2) you're having your diaper changed
3) you have a fart or a burp stuck and its REALLY bothering you.
It bothers me too, that stuck gas. When you burp promptly after a feeding, I am overcome with joy - let that gas sit around too much and you are one hurting little girl.

Caro and I took you and Jemmy to Mdicine Hat on Wednesday - your first big city trip! You pretty much slept the whole time, which let Mommy do her thing - although I'm pretty used to quizzing around the Hat quickly, and hauling around a baby (even a tiny one like you!) adds extra half hours to everything I do.

Grandma L came over on Thursday and cuddled with you all day long while I worked on the school yearbook - dear God, I pray that you don't inherit my penchant for procrastination. Although I'm finding that its very difficult to procrastinate with a one-month-old around - stuff HAS to get done. Writing you this letter has been #1 on my to-do list for days, but I keep finding other little things that need to get done. I'm finally in the swing of things enough o prepare meals. I feel like we're figuring out his relationship, you and I. You're not totally predictable, and you have your bad aye, but overall you're a darn fine baby so far. As long as I avoid caffeine, chocolate, and sulphites, that is.

Baby, you have one strong hold over this mama. I cried a few times this week - some tears of frustration, some tears of joy. I like the joyful ones better, so let's work on that. This time around, it was the lullabye "Stay Awake" from Mary Poppins that did me in. As your eyes began to flutter shut as you quietly nursed, i turned into a bawling mess through "Stay Awake". How am I supposed to sing you to sleep when I can't stop crying? I love you so, so much. God, please continue to guide me on this journey of motherhood so I can be the kind of mother into whose care you have placed this precious, innocent angel baby. Wow, I feel like I just puked up Anne Geddes.

Love,

Mama

P.s. "love" was auto corrected to ole. That made me smile.

One Month Old!

Week 4: The Swing of Things

Lexi,

Today marks the end of your fourth week with us. It'd be cliché for me to say that time is flying, but it is. And you're getting bigger. And stronger. And more beautiful. And... dare I say it? Easier to understand? I'm going to regret that one later on!

It's so enthralling to watch you change every single day. Earlier in the week, you were nestled into your car seat with your eyes closed. Daddy was rocking you a little bit, and you slowly opened one eye, spotted him, then closed it quickly. A few moments later, you repeated this, causing your father to break out in laughter, saying "you're just pretending to be asleep!" The way you melt your daddy's heart is one of the things that I love the most about you. He's not exactly what you'd call an emotional or sensitive guy, but your presence around him has done something wonderful.

You really detest pooping. You squirm and cry and fuss, but once the deed is done, you're the happiest little girl. You're so quiet and so observant of everything around you. When you sleep, you look like an angel. I think 80% of he photos I take of you are sleeping photos. And I still feel like I'm not taking enough.

This week marked many little smiles on your part - not in response to anything in particular, but it is still so magical to see a little grin spread across your sweet little mouth. I think I could watch you sleep forever.

I read a book to you the first time today while nursing you in the morning. It was Robert Munsch's Love You Forever. When I told Daddy over supper that I read it to you, he asked, "did you cry?" He knows me too well. Of course! I bawled. It made me think of my own mother, your Grammy, who gave me the book for a birthday a few years ago. Being a mom has given me a whole new appreciation for my own mother. After all, I was once her baby.

And forever my baby you'll be.

Love,

Mama

Week 3: Fantastic Exhaustion

Lexi,

Let me begin by stating how beautiful you are. You, my love, are gorgeous. I can't get enough of your beautiful eyes (even when they're crusty from that darned clogged tear duct), your sweet nose, and especially your angelic chin and lips - you're like a little cherub. When you get fussy and your face contorts into a sad, snarly, upset baby face, my heart breaks. I want those wide, searching eyes and smushy milk drunk mouth back!

You've been fussy this week, and it's been frustrating. I get anxious before bed time because I know that you'll be up much of the night. I need to keep reminding myself that it won't be forever; I try to pray through the exhausting nights. It doesn't keep me, however, from angrily ripping open a Larabar at 4 am and defiantly throwing the wrapper on the ground. It didn't have quite the effect I'd hoped for, but hey, it let me release a little bit of pent up frustration. It's hard to put into words the juxtaposition between love and frustration that motherhood presents. I love looking at you, cuddling you, napping next to you, and cuddling with you and Daddy. Frustration hits when I'm tired and I can't seem to make you feel better.  Your gassy tummy seems to really upset you at night, and I've cried more than once, feeling helpless because I can't make you more comfortable no matter what I try to do.

Despite the frustration, the ways I love you are innumerable. I love your squeaks - when you're sleeping, you let out the cutest little squeaks. All the sounds you make are fantastic. Even your cries are lovely, in a strange way. It's amazing to be able to pick your cry out from others' when there is more than one crying baby in the room. I love the face you make as you wake up - you suck in your lower lip, tilt your head back, and wave it from side to side. I can't even explain how cute it is - I want to capture it forever and store it in my memory. I love your big, wide, searching eyes - you always seem to be asking a question when you look at me. I love how your arms get floppy when you fall asleep in my arms after a big feed. Your gas grins are pretty amazing, too; I know you're not smiling at me on purpose, but I like to pretend that you are.

Now that it's been three weeks since your birth, I'm starting to get a little bit more mobile and trying to get a bit of exercise done. This past Monday was Victoria Day, and since your father and I didn't manage to get anywhere for the long weekend, we met Grandma and Grandpa L at Dinosaur Provincial Park and took you for your first stroller walk. I'm mad for not taking any photos - that's one thing that I keep regretting and keep meaning to do - taking photos - but I'm too busy living in the moment, which I suppose is more important anyways. Yesterday I did one lap around Lake Stafford (2.25 kilometers) and I was definitely feeling it at the end. Slowly but surely... I can't wait to get back into shape and be the best version of myself so I can be the best mom to you. Slowly... but surely!

I can't wait to see what next week has in store - but can we just freeze time for a little while so I can keep kissing your fuzzy little ears?

Love,

Mama