So, on her three week a versery, Veronica got to go down to the doctors.

She is growing, and inch and a half longer..and she’s heavier. Up from 8 lbs 10 to 9 lbs 1.5

That’s good. I guess she’s thriving.

But there was a huge page of questions for me. Am I drinking or taking drugs? Do I leave this child unattended on high surfaces? Do I get adequate explanation on how to use the medications that were prescribed to me?

NO to all.

And then:

Are you feeling blue?

Feeling? Blue?

Is blue the color you see when you are trapped inside the cylinder of a tornado? Red, gray, black, maybe. No, not feeling blue.

But yesterday, she was screaming for a bit, so I decided if she was going to scream I might as well let her scream to some fun music. I put on some sing-along 80s music and held her close while I danced and sang.

RIght when it came to the part where I could sing along, I was busting out with the chorus and my voice disappeared. It was the fun part.

I hadn’t had a feeling a fun since…well at least since Veronica had been born.

So that thought required a certain amount of tears, which certainly have been present since V has been born.

Then it made me feel mad, because, dammit, I am going to find a way back to, a way back to happy…if it kills me.

And i realized that this state of affairs could be part of why I’m having so much trouble feeling optimistic. So I guess I can remember that I should not forget to get happy at least a little bit every day, until it comes back naturally.

I think it will.

sitting here watching the 400,000 rerun of Law & Order, the thgought that things are never going to be easy again entered my mind.

Naturally, I cannot help but see all the projects I’ve left unfinished and all the things I’d like to organize. Which I cannot finish or organize right now. I thought “Things that get put down in a place where they don’t belong are probably going to stay in that place for…years.”

Naturally, that made me get up and start putting things away.

I have to remember, things are changing. But in all directions.

I actually got Veronica to hang out in a Snugli today. Mostly, I think it had to do with my strength. I finally had the ability to carry her and do other things. It is very freeing. I even trimmed a bush out front that has been bugging me since before Christmas.

Maybe things won’t go entirely to chaos.

She’s 19 days old.

It feels like a lot longer. The fact is, the days is too large a portion to swallow. I live by the 3 hour feeding  cycle.

so my days are 3 hours long…meaning each day is actually 8 days in newborn years. that means i’ve been home with her for…152 days.

That sounds right

It was a pretty good night, and it was made so much more so by my realization that with the addition of a pillow, the big chair i’ve been nursing V on is possible to *also* fall asleep on.

Yay! I feel like I’m double dipping from the sleep jar.

two weeks of new life in my family

Veronica has learned most significantly to go from zero to purple faced shriek in no time flat..is this colic?  or infant personality?

I bought 2 nights of almost enough sleep by supplementing with formula (takes longer to digest, therefore she sleeps longer) . But the system broke down last night and we celebrated her birth with an all-nighter.

She hasn’t learned to focus her eyes, so ‘playing’ with her isn’t poosible. Daddy does enjoy her kung-fu grip, but that’s as far as it goes.

I did learn that i have to beat the crap out of her to get her to burp…poor thing! But i guess burping is necessary.

Round about five AM when I was *still* up with V and serving as pacifier replacer every 30 seconds, I grabbed pencil and notebook to regroup.

You can’t know what to expect till you get to the top of the hill. I can see the other side now, and the other side says “Nights do not belong to the sleeping anymore..” I can’t control if she will sleep, but I can use the resources to share this burden. She needs me so much, I have to make sure I stay well as part of her upkeep, leave aside my own.

So…Bottles are going to play a large part in our lives now. I woke up Chris a few hours later and said “You will be feeding your daughter today.”

The pilliow muffled his answer, but we came up with a plan, and he’s off getting a breast pump

and more pacifiers

So I looked down at this child who lefty my womb 14 days ago, but who really hasn’t left my stomach since I’ve been holding her so incessantly, and said “Kid, we are your parents and we can take whatever you throw at us. As long as we stick together.”

While I am sleeping, a small ninja creeps into my mouth. This is easy, since my nose is stuffed up and I have to breathe with my mouth open.

He creeps into my mouth with full ninja weaponry and stabs the back of  my throat repeatedly.

I dont’ wake up right away, but I do wake up and usually reach for some water since the winter desert air of my home has stripped the mucous membranes of my oral cavity of all moisture. I reach for some water first to add the moisture that nature intended my mouth to have, but as soon as I swallow I discover the ravages the small ninja has left behind on my tonsils.

Tonsil wounds heal slowly, apparently.