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Bringing Home Baby

by Deborah Cruz 2009/05/17

I will never forget the moment the nurse came into my hospital room and said, ” OK, as soon as we can get you a wheelchair, you guys can go home.”

She shared a warm, heartfelt smile with the three of us, this new little family of ours. My heart sank, my stomach turned, and my eyes immediately welled up with tears. I was frightened and overwhelmed, excited and ecstatic but I felt like I was going to vomit.

I looked at my, obviously, just as freaked out husband and I whispered, ” Are they really going to let us go home with her?” I knew the answer.

I had been planning on this moment since the moment I knew I was pregnant. But amongst all the anticipation, I had forgotten that, in the end, this tiny, perfect newborn baby was going home with us.

I thought to myself, “My God, what will we do with her? She is so tiny”

In my head, I just knew, she was so perfect. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for messing her up. They make you take a test and get a license to drive a car but no test, no license, no qualifications for taking care of a baby. It really is insane.

At that moment, as we were staring at this tiny little piece of perfection strapped into the giant, all engulfing car seat, scared witless, the nurse came in with the wheelchair. I exhaustedly sat down in the wheel chair and embraced my new life. A baby had changed everything.

I realized that this was truly the first day of the rest of my life. Absolutely everything that I had known up to that point was completely irrelevant in my life and I didn’t care. As they placed my beautiful, little miracle into my lap, our eyes locked and her gaze held me. I fell in love, deeper then anything I have ever known to that point. In that millisecond, I became an extra in my own life and she is the star…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

2009/05/17 7 comments

The TRUTH about Second Baby Syndrome

by Deborah Cruz 2009/05/11

written by Deborah Cruz

Second baby syndrome is real and anyone who says it isn’t is a damn liar. Fast forward to two years after the birth of baby Bella. We were blissfully happy with a gorgeous, though demanding toddler (whom I was completely in love with) who wanted all of my time, every single waking moment. She had decided long ago that co-sleeping was the thing for her, and was still in our bed, with no end in sight. Not that I minded, it was comforting to see her tiny cherubesque face in the middle of the night as she head butted me when I awoke for the 100th time to pee because I was 9+ months pregnant. It made it hard to bask in the glory of the pregnancy of baby number 2, when baby number 1 was still a baby.

The second time, I only gained 18, ok 20, lbs. But for some reason I seemed a lot larger. It was pregnancy 2.0 and I was like Godzilla. The first pregnancy was nothing like the second pregnancy. I didn’t start showing until I was 8-months pregnant. I looked a little thicker in the waist but at my baby shower (2 months before my daughter was born) people were teasing me that I didn’t look pregnant. And I really didn’t, well, only in my ass.

There I was, bigger than ~~before~~ ever, chasing a sprinting toddler who had the energy of a boxer puppy on crack cocaine, I was absolutely drained. I had all day sickness for 4 months. It was so bad that I had to wear sea sick bands! I looked pretty ridiculous. Motherhood is hard, y’all.

No one was quite as impressed that I was pregnant the second time around. Don’t get me wrong, we were all ecstatic. We planned for baby #2, and got pregnant right away, it was just different because the time that I used to bask in all of my procreating glory last time, was now being used to shuttle a 2-year-old to classes, play dates, and constantly trying to explain and prepare her for her coming soon baby sister. I had to prepare myself to go through labor again and come out the other end the mother of two kids.

I was obsessed with making baby # 1 not feel left out or abandoned by the pending arrival of baby #2 so much so that when I actually did go into labor, I only stayed at the hospital long enough to give birth, spend the night and then I went home. I was there about 32 hours total. I blame it on the screen saver on my cell phone. It was my 2-year-old smiling like she was the center of my universe and the guilt that she had to make room for someone else, gutted me completely. The betrayal.

Second baby syndrome was in full force in our home.

I loaded up my brand spanking new baby girl, all the mega maxi pads with wings, mesh panties and Dermoplast they would give me and I went home. But bringing home baby was different than the first time. There was no 15-mile an hour drive home. Step on it, Jeeves, I’ve got a baby at home that needs me. There was no time to recoup as a family. The Big Guy took a week of paternity leave and we took turns staying up with a colicky, jaundiced newborn and quelling the fear of lemurs under beds, singing Wiggles songs and dealing with regression. Second babies are exhausting.

What once was a mandatory 6-weeks before we went out into the world was a day. I had a newborn who needed to be checked. I had a 2-year-old who had classes to attend and play dates. I couldn’t punish her plus, I didn’t want this to be the beginning of years of therapy and sibling rivalry. What used to be packing the equivalent of luggage to leave the house became keys, diapers, wipes, a bottle, snacks and a stroller. Believe me, it was twice the babies and 1/2 the stuff. Baby wrangling is hard, folks.

I spent a lot of those first few weeks reevaluating what motherhood should look like. You know it’s so easy to be a great parent when you don’t have children but once you add real life, breathing, children who you love more than life itself to the mix, things get a little less black and white. I broke all of my own rules. Wiggles in the middle of the night? Sure. Co-sleeping? Absolutely. 5-second rule for the binky, hell yeah! Bottle when needed if the breasts don’t provide enough. Yes, a thousand times yes. Don’t sweat the things that you can’t change. Love your children and do what works for your family. That’s the good stuff; all the love.

Second baby syndrome is awesome.

It means you have a second baby to love and twice the love to receive in return. Who gives a shit if your house looks like it’s been hit by a Tornado? Who cares if your legs haven’t been shaved in 3 weeks. Look at their faces. That is unconditional love and it’s priceless. They grow up. Way too fast. Your house won’t be dirty forever. Before you know it, they won’t need you for everything and soon after that they will need you for even less. Enjoy every minute of it now.

2009/05/11 4 comments

Parenting Women's Issues

Mother’s Day ;Part Deux!

by Deborah Cruz 2009/05/11

written by Deborah Cruz

This morning got off to a rocky start,as you can see from my previous post. But it evolved into a magical evening anyway.Wayne eventually woke up from his sound slumber and realized that it was, in fact, Mother’s Day! He told me to take some time for myself and he would handle the girls. So, I made myself a drink and made my getaway. I headed downstairs to the movie room to finally watch “Twilight”, alone. I don’t think I’ve had the luxury of doing anything “alone” in at least 4 years. It started off nice, actually, quite fantastic.I could smell the delicious dinner that my husband was cooking, as it wafted downstairs through the vents.Turkey and cranberry ravioli and fresh panzanella salad, had become my favorite meal of all time. As I sat in the movie room, in the pitch black, sipping my cocktail, watching the adorably romantic teenage Dracula, my mind began to wander. Wander back to a time when I actually got to sit in complete and utter silence and peace and enjoy a movie in its entirety without someone screaming, or crying, shouting “M..o..m…m..y..Eat!” or asking me continuously for a play by play of what is happening in the movie. My children have an uncanny knack for wanting to converse at the times that necessitate quiet the most; church, movies, weddings, funerals, etc. But as background for the quiet, that I did so enjoy for about 45 minutes, I hear my girls running around and giggling upstairs and it hit me. I’d rather be upstairs with them, then downstairs without them; peace and quiet or not. I came back to reality, left the peace and quiet and came back upstairs, and was greeted by a barrage of hugs and kisses; followed by homemade cards created with love, and a sumptuous dinner made with just as much love. I’d say my Mother’s day was more awesome then I could have hoped for.

2009/05/11 0 comment

Mom Life Women's Issues

Mother’s Day Morning

by Deborah Cruz 2009/05/10

written by Deborah Cruz

This morning, I was the first one to wake up. I decided if I wasn’t going to be able to sleep in, then I’d get up and make the most of the morning, alone. I got up and brushed my teeth, and decided to do a mud mask. About 1 minute into my “Me” morning, my youngest baby girl woke up ready for her day, “Mommy..eat!!”

“Ok, honey one sec. Mommy’s almost done ( putting on said mud mask)”.

She’s not having it. In her most persistent sing-songy voice..”M..o..m…m..y….EAT!” “OK, Ok. I am coming”. This is followed by my oldest waking up ( did I mention it’s 7:00 am, early for them). “Mom. Happy mother’s day!” ,”Awww, thanks, sweetie!” “What’s on your face? (with complete and utter disgust)”. As her baby sister, continuously screams…”M…O…M..M..Y, EAT!” She’s getting pissed! All the while, my husband is still sleeping soundly. Oh, I must have got my days crossed…I thought this was Mother’s day…not “Father’s day”! I hope this day gets better from here:)

2009/05/10 0 comment

loss of a pregnancy, miscarriage, pregnancy, birth, the first pregnancy

Confessions Parenting

Rantings of a Crazy woman; 1st Pregnancy

by Deborah Cruz 2009/05/09

written by Deborah Cruz

That brings us to the gloriousness of pregnancy. Well, for me, pregnancy was pretty glorious. I only gained 18 lbs. with my pregnancies (of course I started out on the chunky side), mild all day sickness with my first, I had an ass for the 1st time in my life (not so bad), boobs got a little bigger, no hemorrhoids, no excess gas, still loved sex, still slept on my belly, no stretch marks (well, one but it disappeared after birth).No craziness.

I just basked in the glory of my pregnancy. It was amazing and I devoured all the attention, ate whatever I wanted (that was allowed), was completely engulfed in the whole experience. Read every book (with and to my husband), sharing facts like they were going out of style. Rented a Doppler, sang to my fetus, played music to it, talked to it, swayed it to sleep. It was an unexpected bliss like nothing else.

Everything about my pregnancy was amazing.

I took every class, drove a little slower and kept a journal of my pregnancy. No one told me that I should pamper myself, because it was the last time I’d be able to do anything alone, for the rest of my life. No one told me that I would from the day of delivery on I would forevermore be referred to as “mommy”. No one told me that I would lose my own identity and forget where I end and my children begin.

Oh, to go to the toilet without a chaperone trying to eat the toothpaste. Those were the days. But, I wouldn’t trade one moment of toothpaste eating tag to pee alone again, if it meant that I didn’t have my daughters. Alone time is over rated anyways, yeah, just like date nights and spontaneous sex, said the jealous, tired Mommy.

That was my first pregnancy!

2009/05/09 3 comments

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