In my dream, Robert DeNiro just told me that “Thanksgiving is a fool’s Boxing Day.” Some of my American friends might find this information useful so I had to write it down before I forgot.
Four months after giving birth, I received a BabyCenter newsletter with a topic: “How to eat your placenta?”.
Their timing is totally off.
We already ate it in December, fried with just a pinch of salt, on a bed of tears and self-doubt.
I wanted to tell Molly a story to calm her down before her nap and I first thought of Little Red Riding Hood. I started telling her the story and after an unnecessarily long description of all the food her mother prepared for her granny (I’m on a diet), I realised I didn’t know the rest of the story.
Does her red hood play any role in the story? How and why did the wolf end up in her granny’s house? Where and when does the hunter appear? Why didn’t the wolf just eat the girl in the forest?
Well, he did in my version of the story. And he enjoyed all the food from the basket as well. The end.
A couple of days away without Molly for the first time.
She stayed with the grandparents who were given very (very) detailed care instructions (two A4 pages on feeding and sleeping and changing nappies) before we drove to Regensburg so I can cry a lot about missing my baby and worry a lot about grandparents maybe putting her to bed at 20:15 instead of 20:10 because that could totally ruin her routine.
Surprisingly, a couple of hours and couple of beers later, I was starting to enjoy myself. It felt strange and terrifying but relaxing and much needed at the same time.
Who knew there were so many emotions to experience? I just hope our little girl will still recognise me after 48 hours without my face in her face.
Molly seems quite pleased with the decision we arrived at after a long discussion about naps.
We agreed that she will nap whenever she feels like it and I will carry her to her bed whenever she wants me to.
I just had my first argument with Molly. We strongly disagreed on when she should go to sleep.
She is currently chilling in the lounge, laughing at me, so I guess she won.
Molly started the first day of her third month on Earth by showcasing all of her skills – screaming, eating, pooing and spitting – at the same time.
I love those mornings when I get an incredible and impressive amount of things done!
Today is not one of those.
We’re so lucky that Molly’s a calm, relaxed and (mostly) quiet baby.
She sleeps a lot during the day, not as much at night, but I guess that was to be expected.
We already have a routine which involves getting Molly all warm and cozy and cuddled up in her pram and taking her on a walk with Klara. If she falls asleep, I sit down in a coffee shop or a bakery and enjoy those wonderful moments of quiet time.
Going out for coffee with a sleeping baby is a lot more fun than I could imagine! You can’t really talk to a baby and she’s far from being entertaining, but just watching her in adoration can be a great way to spend the time.
But in order for it to be fun, two requirements need to be fulfilled:
a) you have to be jam-packed with crazy mama hormones
b) it has to be your baby that you’re staring it.
Warning – spending time staring at a stranger’s baby could go anywhere on the scale from weird and freaky to getting yourself arrested.
No birth goes unannounced these days.
Jay posted on Facebook, for all of our friends (and people we randomly added as friends on Facebook) to read:
Our daughter Molly was born at 03:55 this morning (3,190 g / 52 cm). Iva and Molly are both doing well and are currently catching up on some much-needed sleep after an exciting night. Iva and I are extremely proud and happy, and of course still a little bit confused.
Thanks to you all for your love and best wishes.
What he didn’t post on Facebook were the following interesting facts:
-Molly’s expected date of birth was on the 20th of September and we both expected me to give birth exactly then. After that uneventful day passed, we basically just sat around and waited for something (anything!) to happen. We did that for full 7 days.
-at 9 a.m. on the 27th I was woken up by a strong urge to poo. I repeatedly went to the toilet in vain every half an hour until Jay suggested that a need to poo doesn’t usually come at regular intervals and most of the time it actually results in pooing. He cleverly suggested that I might be feeling contractions which was a lot more exciting thought (and way scarier!) than just common pooing.
-I had weak contractions every half an hour until about 6 p.m. We had a wonderful day: went on a long walk, installed a contractions app (or four, on each phone) and cuddled in bed, feeling very relaxed and calm and happy and excited and relieved that something was finally happening.
– around 6 p.m. we went for another walk with Klara and that’s when the contractions started getting so strong that I had to hold on to Jay every time I felt one and breathe through them. That didn’t stop us from going to the supermarket to stock up on snacks and drinks for the hospital. While Jay was getting everything we needed (and more), I held onto a shelf and was breathing through my contractions, very aware of the shocked looks other shoppers were giving me.
-we dropped Klara off at the neighbours’, got into the car and drove to the hospital where they were about to send us home because my contractions stopped and nothing was happening. After I begged them to stay and almost started crying with frustration, they told us to return two hours later but not to leave the hospital. Which we interpreted as: “Leave the hospital and go out to dinner”. So we chose a nice Italian nearby.
– I couldn’t finish my pumpkin soup because my contractions were too painful. So Jay had to eat both of our meals.
The rest is either a blur or too graphic to be described publicly. A lot of… pain / drugs / shouting / cuddles with the best husband in the world / directions in German from the nurses which my drugged up brain couldn’t understand… later and I was holding a strange looking, soft little baby in my arms. Jay cried and smiled and laughed, Molly was falling in and out of sleep and I believe I was in a state of shock and complete confusion. She was inside me for nine months and I was already used to her being a part of me and all of a sudden she was on my chest – a tiny human, capable of surviving outside me, but completely incapable of living without me.
So complicated to comprehend and yet so simple, all at once.
I had just given birth to the most precious creature in the world.