Worth the weight...

Buoyed by our success at the restaurant, I thought it would be fun to leave JC with my husband and hit the  mall.  Now, my body's no longer what it used to be, and I'm not fitting into any of the 40-some pairs of jeans  that I own, so I thought, "why don't I pop by old navy and pick up some cheap transition wear" as I have no  intention of staying at my current size.  Now I don't know if Old Navy just makes cheap clothes that don't fit  very well, but I have never felt so defeated by a shopping experience.  I went into that changeroom like I  always have done -- with huge armloads full of items and potential outfit permutations spinning through my  head -- but as I tried item after item, I got more and more discouraged.  Nothing was fitting right, and it was particularly the case around my midsection.  A friend of mine referred to her post-preg belly as uncooked pizza  dough and I think that perfectly sums it up.  What happened to me?  During my pregnancy my stomach was  always rock hard, which fooled me into thinking that somehow things would go right back to how they were  after I delivered my little angel.  And, indeed, 25 of the 35 pounds I gained were gone before a week had  passed.  But it's now 12 weeks later and those 10 pounds are still kicking around, despite me starting up  running again  Mother friends of mine assure me that things get better after six months and that if you  breastfeed your body will keep a spare ten pounds around just in case it needs it.  All of this makes sense to  me, and if I were reading someone else's post about this, I'd be thinking, "What's the big deal? Ten pounds is nothing.". But it turns out that it is in fact a big deal.  I'm not crying about this or ruminating, I'm not avoiding socializing because of my body, or feeling less worthy as a person, and I'm definitely not dieting (no way am I  going to mess with my milk supply -- more on that later).  But I AM rather disappointed when I look in the  mirror, and shopping, one of my favourite activities (hence the 40 pairs of jeans) totally sucked today.  From  that huge pile I went into the changeroom with, I ended up with one oversized sweater and a pair of slippers!  I  know I shouldn't be surprised and it's not like i wasn't warned (one of my relatives who is a personal trainer and  has a fantastic body said she never got back into some of her jeans because her hips had separated too much  and never returned).  But I guess some part of me just didn't believe it would happen to me or didn't think that  I'd care if it did.  Well it turns out that I care more than i probably should.  At least one bright side to this is I'm  more motivated to work out (in moderation of course) and if it does turn out that I eventually get back into my  pre preg jeans, what a hard-earned milestone that will be.  If not, Goodwill will be getting a sizable donation  and I'm going to buy myself a pair of designer jeans, in a size larger than I used to take, and I'll try to embrace the new body that I have.  After all, this body allowed me to bring JC into the world, and that's saying a lot!

A breakfast success story

Well we did it!  We successfully went out for breakfast with JC!  Yes, we scarfed down our food for fear that any moment he would lose it (I think we clocked in and out at less than 20 minutes), but he was surprisingly good and we were out of there without any crying.  It may have been super exciting for him too because he's passed out in his car seat (which he hates) and I'm sitting in the car in our garage writing this on my iPhone.  No way am I waking this little sweetheart!

It's actually a really great feeling to be able to do something that we used to do so regularly.  No, we couldn't dawdle, having cup after cup of coffee while we talked about our weeks.  This time I didn't even finish my first cup (of decaf!), and there wasn't a lot of talking in the split seconds between mouthfuls, but hopefully this is just a start.  As of today, eating at a restaurant is no longer a pipe dream but instead it's a full-fledged reality!  And it only opens up the possibility that other things may be in our reach.  Maybe I could attempt a movie (not just during the "mommy and baby" showtimes).  Maybe I can try shopping and go to more than one store (that's currently my record).  Obviously having a baby changes my life a great deal but maybe I don't have to give everything else up?  It's a beautiful and comforting thought!

By the way, just as an update, JC has made it through two nights sleeping in his own room!  The first he slept for an eight-hour stretch and last night it was seven hours.  So I would say things are going pretty well. I watched the monitor like a hawk the first night, but I was already more easy going by the next night.  I think we're on a good path here.  Not to mention last night I actually enjoyed a glass of Chardonnay with my husband after the baby was in bed. Bliss!  The only challenge is he has woken up at 5am both nights (so only an hour after his night feed) crying and I've taken him into bed for a cuddle/feed/nap both times. Not sure what that's all about since he can't possibly be hungry (the night feed is the biggest one as I've got Dolly Parton boobs to work with). Hopefully it will sort itself out, but even if it doesn't, it's not the biggest challenge we've hit! 

I'm feeling really great. Maybe I'll ask my husband to watch JC and I'll hit the mall for a couple of hours (gasp!).

Sleeping arrangements

It's 9:05pm, and for the first time in almost three months, I'm sitting in bed and my baby is sleeping in his own room.  We initially put him in his nursery for the first two nights we were home from the hospital, but on the third day, during a routine phone call with the public health nurse, we were told that babies are supposed to sleep in their parents' room for the first six months!  Now, I don't think that six months of the baby sleeping in our room is necessary, or probably good for any of us, so we always figured we'd move him out after a few months.  

Well, that day has come, and I'm feeling mixed emotions about it.  On the one hand, I'm excited to be taking this next step, and I think it will be great in terms of reconnecting with my husband.  When the baby was in our room, I would start the bedtime routine of a bath, cuddle, and feed at 7pm and he would be asleep by 8 at the latest.  Then I would stay in the room chilling with my laptop while my husband was downstairs.  By the time he would come up at 10 or so, I'd be asleep.  So really, we've been only seeing each other for an hour or so in the evenings, and that's just not enough time with someone I love!  Now it's after 9 and I'm a) still awake, b) still chilling on my laptop, but my husband is here in bed with me, and we're not having to whisper or keep all the lights off.  This is the height of luxury for me these days!  

On the other hand though, I'm feeling a little bit sad and scared.  Sad, because I'm actually missing my little guy.  Apparently spending every moment of the day with him isn't enough...a part of me wants him sleeping next to me as well.  And, look, when he's not with me, I'm writing about him anyway.  I'm also feeling a little scared because, although it's completely irrational, I'm worried that something will happen to him in his room that sooooo faaaaar down the hall.  I have my little angel care monitor set up and I'm not hearing anything, which should be a good thing but is actually worrying me!  Of course, if I was hearing him stir, that would worry me too.  There's no winning in the first-time mom world.  

But, I know that this is a good move, and that babies have been sleeping in their own rooms for centuries (well, I don't actually know that, but I think thats probably true, right?), and the whole reason we decided to move him today was because I was talking with a doctor friend of mine whose four-month-old baby has been sleeping in his own room since he was ten days old.  If it's good enough for her (and all the other mom friends I've talked to), it should be good enough for us too.  I probably won't get a lot of sleep tonight, and I'll be jumping at every little sound (or lack thereof), but with time, this should get easier.  And really, the only way to conquer irrational thoughts is to put them to the test.  Little bit of anxiety up front for big time benefits down the road?  I'm going for it!  Wish us luck!