Six Week Peak?

Ya'll, I've been trying to write this post since Wednesday.  My days aren't exactly busy; but my hands are occupied about 90% of the time.  I seriously write blog posts in my head all.day.long; but, the actual act of typing them up just doesn't get done. Right now, Sam is asleep in the Baby Bjorn on my lap, and I have my computer propped up on pillows so I can reach it around him.  Parenthood is all about creativity. Bare with me. Please.


As of yesterday Wednesday, we have officially survived the first six weeks.  Most things I've read (and our pediatrician) claim that fussiness/colic peaks around six weeks and then continues to improve until baby is about three months old.  When we first heard that, six weeks sounded SO far away... Now, the milestone has come and gone.

Believe it or not, Sam was not a totally different baby when he woke up Thursday morning.  Apparently, he didn't get the memo about the "six week peak." ;)

 That said, we are getting a little more of this face these days instead of just tears and tonsils:

I was going to call this post "What I've Learned," but the truth is... I haven't learnED anything.  This whole thing is a process, and I am - slowly, but surely - learnING.

Things are getting better.  

It is still hard.

Jeff ran into a friend of ours yesterday who's wife had a baby two days after Sam was born... He told Jeff that things were "pretty easy" and his "life hasn't changed nearly as much as he thought it would."

I can just picture Jeff's face now.  "Easy" is not exactly a word we would use to describe this experience so far. 

When he recounted their conversation to me later, I assured him that that's because they have an easy baby.  We do not.  I'm pretty sure that didn't make him feel any better.

Honestly, I do get sad sometimes when I think about the way I imagined this would be; but, God is working in me a lot right now too.  I keep hearing "God does not give you more than you can handle" over and over in my head.  We could handle more - honestly.  We have a strong marriage, a great support system, a powerful faith...This isn't that bad.  God is still showing us grace.

He's also stretching and growing us.  Yesterday, as I paced the sidewalks with the stroller stopping every three minutes to replace the pacifier, I thought about what God is teaching me.  I realized that all my expectations involved me being a "super mom."  I, truly, thought I'd have this peaceful little baby that I'd tote around in my "life as usual."  I pictured him cooing in his swing while I cooked fancy dinners and folded laundry.  My house was always spotless. The reality is that ALL I can do is be a mom right now.  I LOVE to multi-task; but God is giving me these weeks at home to learn that being a mommy is about being a mommy - that's all.  Sam is my number one.  Not my house, my social life, or my image.  He is ALL that matters.

So, I have hope that there will come a time (maybe eight weeks?!) when I can find some balance again.  But, for now, I will try my best to soak up this season. I will learn to sacrifice my wants for his.  And, I will be a better mom because of it.

In his favorite spot: Daddy's lap on the front porch

Did everything change at six weeks? No. BUT, life is good.  I am learnING.  I know my boy a little better every day. And...

He SMILED THIS MORNING!  His first real smile came at 5:22AM while I was changing a blow-out diaper - totally worth getting up for.  (I got one more smile later this morning, but they are unpredictable.  I'll be stalking him with my camera all day today; so hopefully I'll have photographic proof soon.)

How to Soothe a Crying Baby

Baby Bjorn... $66.00
Muslin Blanket... $22.00
Wubbanub with Soothie... $12.95

Five minutes of silence... Priceless


P.S. Did ya'll feel the earthquake that just hit a few minutes ago?  I was putting Sam down for a nap, & I truly thought it was God calling out against crib bumpers. ;) Hope everyone is safe & sound.

Confirmed Colic (& Poop)

Disclaimer: If you are squeamish or fall into the category of people who believe bodily functions should not be discussed in public forums... you might not want to read on.  Consider yourself warned.

Yesterday, I took Sam to the doctor.  He has his one month appointment next week, so I had been procrastinating taking him in for a "sick visit;" but, after a horrible horrible night of screaming on Thursday, I decided I absolutely could not go one more day like this if there was possibly an "easy fix."

No such luck.  No easy fix.  The doctor - who was white haired, wore a diamond stud earring, and patted my back to comfort me- confirmed what I already knew.  Sam has colic. He is totally healthy, just one of the lucky 20% of babies with this "mystery condition" that causes excessive crying.  In the doctor's words, there is good news and bad.  The bad news, "it will get worse before it gets better."  The good, "it will go away - probably by 12 weeks."

Just what a new mom wants to hear. 

It's bittersweet.  Of course I'm happy that my baby is healthy.  Of course I realize that there are mothers out there with babies who really are sick.  Of course I know that twelve weeks in the grand scheme of life is VERY short... But right now, it feels like ETERNITY.

Thankfully, my baby boy still gives me just enough adorableness to make every second of his blood curling cries worth it.  After a long crying spell when he finally drifts off to sleep, nothing makes me happier than his little lips curling into a smile, like he's laughing at dad and me - how crazy we are navigating this new land. 

Now, on a lighter note... Sam was a little angel in the waiting room of the pediatrician's office yesterday.  By the time we got into the exam room, he was napping peacefully, and I was sure the doctor would think I was imagining these "crying spells" I spoke of.

Then came the rectal temperature.

As I got Sam out of his car seat and unfastened his little diaper, the nurse warned me that many babies poop when they have their temperature taken.  Ok.  We can handle poop.  Little did we know...

Not five seconds later, he became one of those babies.  Only, instead of simply pooping... Sam let that nurse HAVE IT.  He squirted poop EVERYWHERE.  It went all over her Tweety Bird scrubs and ALL OVER the floor, walls, etc.  Literally, custodians had to be called in to mop, disinfect, and put a "Caution Wet Floors" sign in our exam room while I basically bathed him in wipes and changed his clothes. Meanwhile, the nurse announced that she had NEVER seen anything like that before and freaked out about cleaning her own outfit. 

That's my boy... Always surprising the medical professionals.  First with a quadruple nuchal cord, and now with projectile poop. ;)

(Something tells me this will be one of Sam's favorite stories to hear when he is older.)

Have a good weekend & don't forget to enter my E. Ria jewelry giveaway here before Monday!