9 Months Today!

How have the past nine months flown by so quickly? How can my newborn babygirl be so grown up?? I can now understand the many people who smile at me and say 'it goes so fast--it was just yesterday that my 25 year old was in my arms'. I get that now--already.

In honour of Sophie being 9 months today, I wanted to share a few more thoughts from when she was zero...still our little nugget.

We spent 3 days in the hospital. For someone who had been contemplating a home birth, I felt like the hospital was ClubMed---okay, maybe that's pushing it. But those three days were really special for the three of us. I was fed. I was with my girl. And my boy. I could press a little button and a nurse would come and help me learn how to nurse (I've always been a bit of a control freak--loved the button!)

I felt like we developed this little bubble of a world. That the three of us were so protected and in our own wonderful land. Of nursing, snoozing, kissing, adoring and healing. Yes, I was in quite a bit of pain. But only when I moved. Whenever I tried to sit up it really hurt. I did the C-section 'shuffle'. But that was all small potatoes--we had the most beautiful little creature I had ever set eyes on. We would spend hours examining her bits--tiny beautiful fingers and toes. I tend to be one to discuss inappropriate postpartem details---but I'll leave that to in-person encounters. Let's just say that my mother-in-law probably saw more of me than she ever probably wanted to see.

We were quite worried about Sophie's sore hand. The midwives hadn't encountered this situation before and were understandably worried. We were exausted, highly emotional and I was severely hormonal. That didn't help the situation. Would her little fingers ever move? Would her wrist ever lift? All I could think of was that she may not be able to play the piano. Which is probably problemmatic in itself--already planning her extra-curricular activities! A pediatrician finally visited us (who was absolutely wonderful) and he told us about the condition being brachial plexis (which was actually a misdiagnosis--we found out later that it was a compressed radial nerve....which has 100% healing). He said that 90% of kids heal completely, and the other 10% require physio and perhaps surgery. He would refer us to the 'brachial plexis clinic' at the local hospital. As much as I've dissed living in a big city, it was pretty wonderful to have a whole clinic that specialized in this situation. It was scary, but we felt somewhat reassured and hopeful. In the end, Sophie's arm is going to be able to play lots of piano (okay...if she wants to) It took about 2 months in total to heal.

The nurses and midwives were incredible. We all received so much support. There was one nurse in particular, that was from Serbia. In the wee hours of feeding she talked about her evenings out at the Serbian opera. She knew babies inside and out. She had loving and kind hands. My favourite memory of her was her making me a grilled cheese sandwich at 3am when I was finally allowed to eat! She encouraged me to have Sophie sleep in my bed with me. This was exactly what I needed. I was so devastated that she had spent her first 10 hours in an incubator, not being able to be held, and from the minute she came to us I had an incredibly strong need to have Sophie in my arms as much as possible. I never wanted her put down.

I remember being really tired. Really happy. Really emotional. Really thankful.

a note about the picture---for years I have loved photos of post-birth moms and their babes. I love the combination of total exaustion and total bliss. Looking like crap and glowing simultaneously. For so long I looked forward to, and imagined what my post-birth exausted photo would look like. Just how bad would I look? The worse I looked, the better! If this photo had been taken at any other time I would have ripped it up and buried it under a rock. But instead I love it, because of what it represents. Because despite looking like I had been run over by a bus, I was so darn elated.