Stuffy Baby was Really Stuffy

In fact, stuffy Baby had a mild case of a fairly severe respiratory virus, RSV. What began as a small check-up with the pediatrician turned into a 2 night stay at the illustrious Emerson Hospital. Luckily it was just for observation, some saline nebulizing and some extended time in an oxygen tent. Baby was a trooper, wooing the nurses as he recovered. At the end of it, his lungs were clear, there was oxygen in his veins and he had slept longer at night then ever at home. He still has an old man cough in the morning, but otherwise, we are happy campers again.

Stuffy Baby

Nothing is sadder than a sick baby. Not serious sick, of course, I mean minor, inconvenient, but not worrisome, sick. This week I'm dealing with some stuffiness and coughing. No fever, and he's still able to eat and sleep, so it's not THAT bad, which makes it sad and funny when he sneezes his little sneezes and when he coughs his biddy coughs. Much like the way it's also sad and funny when your baby cries so hard his voice vibrates and his face turns red (to which I say "just put your leg down and I'll be done changing your diaper and we can all be happy jeeeeeez!!").
But this cold is making him grumpy and it's super sad to hear him coughing and sniffling and who knew that takes years for kids to learn how to blow their noses- doesn't it seem instinctive to want get all that out, as opposed to sniffling it back in?! I think so.
All we can do is turn on the humidifier, keep him upright, suction out his boogers after he sneezes, and snuggle him until he get better. Poor little boy.

6 weeks!

My son is 6 weeks old tomorrow! I can't believe we made it! 6 weeks. He's gained 3 pounds from his hospital discharge weight, and is an inch longer. He can pick his head up. He smiles and looks RIGHT AT us! Here's to the next 6 weeks being a little easier than the last:)

The Cutest Little Things

There are a lot of cute things about babies. Their little mini- ears, their little mini- toes, their little mini- fingers.The feature that seems to facinate the most people are fingernails. They are OH SO cute. SO teeny tiny!

They also, however, are sharp like razor blades. 10 mini razor blades shredding my chest, 10 mini razor blades, so sharp that when Jack sometimes scratches his face they make him look like he got into a rumble with an aggressive house cat. Oh and to top it off, they grow like weeds and getting him to keep still to cut them is as hard as cutting the nails of the previously mentioned aggressive house cat.

Catching Up

There has been a bit of a hiatus. In the naive way that only a first-time-mom can dream, I truly believed the following things:
a) pregnancy couldn't get worse than it was at 35 weeks
b) I would be able to "sleep when the baby sleeps"
c) I would be able to use my brain to think about things other than nursing and counting poops
d) I thought for sure I would be able to read a book here and there in all my "down time"

What I have now learned is:
a) Week 39 is SO much worse
b) I COULD sleep when the baby sleeps, but then I would have to forego showers and food
c) Not only can I not wrap my brain around anything else besides nursing and pooping, but I can't even keep that straight, so I write it down (along with when I take out and feed the dog, lest she starves, poor thing)
d) Not only are there no books being opened, in my "downtown" (joke) the only things my brain can absorb are MTV reality shows (Teen Mom 2 anyone?) or the E! network...

But I am finally able to write coherent sentences! Hurrah! And here is the reason for all this... Jack Estrela Mattison... born December 22, 2011

34 weeks down

Today I hit 34 weeks. And I am tired. Very tired. And I feel very big. I am also very aware that the time is nearing where the labor could be begin. I know it is unlikely that it will happen in the next two weeks... but it could. It seems that the one thing people like to do when you're pregnant is tell you their own "I was SUPER early" or "I was SUPER late" stories. So really, according to every individual story out there, it could happen at any moment between now and mid January. EEEEE.
I have heard and read several times that the last weeks of pregnancy are geared to make you WANT to go into labor (code for: let's make you so uncomfortable you'd rather push a watermelon out of a keyhole than stay this way). I have certainly gotten to that point. Here is a list of things that, as a result of my melon-stomach, are very difficult to do:
Tie my own shoes
Put on pants
Touch the floor for any other reason
Have Petunia sit on my lap (sad dog)
Sit close to the table
Walk briskly (although I do try)
Walk up hills at any pace
Shave my legs
Get up from the coach unassisted
Use my abdominal muscles
SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT
This last one is the killer. JUST GET ME THERE!!

Birthing Class

Everyone recommends that new parents take a birthing class. Originally we were going to do a 6 week class, but our schedules got crazy, and instead we decided to pack it all into 1 weekend. 8 hours on Saturday, 4 hours on Sunday. This happened this past weekend. There was not a TON of new information, but plenty of opportunity to ask questions like "do I wear glasses or contacts during labor?", "when EXACTLY do I go to the hospital?" and "how do I introduce my dog to my baby"?. There were funny things about this class as well. For one, our instructor had a significant high-pitched wheeze. Every three sentences or so she would take a sharp breath in and you could hear a loud whistling. This happened about every three sentences for 8 hours on Saturday and 4 hours on Sunday. Another helpful thing was discussing and practicing pain management. Breathing, positioning yourself differently, distracting yourself from the pain with back massages (this was nice), etc. To practice this breathing and relaxation, we did some visualization meditation. However, I don't know about you, but visualizing my own labor and giving birth is not very relaxing, nor is being propped up on pillows that caused an incredible burning pain around my lower back and my tailbone and poor SHM, who had to support me by leaning back on his hands for 25 minutes. Nor was the snoring woman next to us (although clearly she was plenty relaxed). Or the insufferable church laughter that we both inevitably had and it was SO bad!
Despite all of this, the class was great at easing fears and talking through a lot of scary but inevitable aspects of giving birth. The best part about it all was that SHM was able to sit through the whole thing without feeling faint or squeamish, and this included a play by play of a c-section which I had to turn away from. So at least we know he'll make it:) YAY!