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Monthly Archives: June 2012

This would be his “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” face. I’ve got my hands full with this one.

June 22, 12:15am. I am 30 years old today. And a mother. I’ve been a mother for over 7 months now and that bit is still harder to process than being 30. It’s just I’ve never envisioned myself as one, and suddenly, I am. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I love him so much, and I love being his mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Motherhood has completely turned my world upside-down. I worry about a million different things every single day. It feels like my heart is outside of my body, and sometimes it cries and screams for absolutely no reason. But I get to see it laugh and smile more often than that. And my heart, it wraps its arms around me and hugs me. It gives me high fives and kisses. And it wants so very much to walk already. I am softer now. But I have also found an incredible strength and love in me that I never imagined I had.

I used to hate getting older, but it started changing last year when I turned 29 while pregnant. And 30, well, I actually looked forward to this. So here’s to being in my 30s. Here’s to motherhood. May I rock both as hard as I can.

This would be his “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” face. I’ve got my hands full with this one.

June 22, 12:15am. I am 30 years old today. And a mother. I’ve been a mother for over 7 months now and that bit is still harder to process than being 30. It’s just I’ve never envisioned myself as one, and suddenly, I am. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I love him so much, and I love being his mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Motherhood has completely turned my world upside-down. I worry about a million different things every single day. It feels like my heart is outside of my body, and sometimes it cries and screams for absolutely no reason. But I get to see it laugh and smile more often than that. And my heart, it wraps its arms around me and hugs me. It gives me high fives and kisses. And it wants so very much to walk already. I am softer now. But I have also found an incredible strength and love in me that I never imagined I had.

I used to hate getting older, but it started changing last year when I turned 29 while pregnant. And 30, well, I actually looked forward to this. So here’s to being in my 30s. Here’s to motherhood. May I rock both as hard as I can.

Dear Corwin,

You and I just had the most perfect evening together while your dad was out running. Dancing, hugs, giggles, and face eating. You were the sweetest you’ve ever been, and I am the happiest mother in the world right now. You talk so much, I could swear you’re actually telling me stories these days. Your little face gets so animated, it just kills me.

Thank you for tonight. I needed this.

Love,
Mommy

I don’t really do animated gifs but I could. not. resist.

My darling son, you’ve been cranky all week. All you wanted to do was eat and bounce, eat and bounce, eat and bounce. But then you give me this before bedtime, and everything is alright with my world again.

I’m often asked why we named him Corwin. Sometimes I do wish we named him something else so I wouldn’t have to hear people call him Corween or Kerwin, but he’s a Corwin, I know this. I knew it since I had some spotting during my second trimester and asked him to hold on tight.

Pregnancy was the happiest time of my life up ‘till that point, but it wasn’t without its difficulties. I went through: 2 fires just a week apart, one we had to evacuate for and both in the middle of the night (my blood still runs cold every single time I hear a fire truck’s siren); being diagnosed by two ENT doctors with trigeminal neuralgia, something so painful they call it “the suicide disease”; actually suffering that for two weeks; having a wisdom tooth extracted on my third trimester, suffering pregnancy-caused Bell’s Palsy (the entire left side of my face was paralyzed); a 39-degree fever; and an emergency c-section.

On the day of his birth, my nerves were completely shot. I couldn’t feel my contractions, but everything else felt a hundred times more painful than it should’ve. When they took my blood pressure, it felt like they were cutting off my arm. My son’s heart rate was way too fast. He went into distress, so they operated. He had meconium staining so he didn’t get to stay long enough on me to latch properly. When they took him away from me and to the NICU, I fell apart and started sobbing hysterically. They put me on morphine, which put me under. And as it turns out, I’m very allergic to it. Good times.

Less than 20 hours after the c-section, I stood up and went down to the NICU to try and feed my son. I did this every 3 hours, when I didn’t just stay and sleep on an armchair in the NICU. He had transient tachypnea of the newborn, and he was having difficulty breathing. He was so small and I could not protect him. I was tired from lack of sleep. I was in pain, and emotionally wrung out in every possible way. Then he stopped breathing. Twice. I was such a wreck, my husband had to peel me off the floor. But despite all this, he’s been a happy baby since day one. He’s made of sterner stuff, my son. He’s been smiling every single day since the day he was born. He got better, and we took him home after a week.

He’s named after Corwin, from The Chronicles of Amber by Roger Zelazny. I had my doubts and considered naming him Ethan instead (which is his middle name now), but after everything we’ve been through, I just couldn’t imagine calling him anything else. The character is smart, sharp, resilient, has incredible stamina and endurance, and has regenerative abilities. It was half geekiness on our part, and half wishful thinking. I needed my little boy to hold on and heal. Almost 7 months later, I can’t imagine him with any other name. It suits him perfectly.

I’m often asked why we named him Corwin. Sometimes I do wish we named him something else so I wouldn’t have to hear people call him Corween or Kerwin, but he’s a Corwin, I know this. I knew it since I had some spotting during my second trimester and asked him to hold on tight.

Pregnancy was the happiest time of my life up ‘till that point, but it wasn’t without its difficulties. I went through: 2 fires just a week apart, one we had to evacuate for and both in the middle of the night (my blood still runs cold every single time I hear a fire truck’s siren); being diagnosed by two ENT doctors with trigeminal neuralgia, something so painful they call it “the suicide disease”; actually suffering that for two weeks; having a wisdom tooth extracted on my third trimester, suffering pregnancy-caused Bell’s Palsy (the entire left side of my face was paralyzed); a 39-degree fever; and an emergency c-section.

On the day of his birth, my nerves were completely shot. I couldn’t feel my contractions, but everything else felt a hundred times more painful than it should’ve. When they took my blood pressure, it felt like they were cutting off my arm. My son’s heart rate was way too fast. He went into distress, so they operated. He had meconium staining so he didn’t get to stay long enough on me to latch properly. When they took him away from me and to the NICU, I fell apart and started sobbing hysterically. They put me on morphine, which put me under. And as it turns out, I’m very allergic to it. Good times.

Less than 20 hours after the c-section, I stood up and went down to the NICU to try and feed my son. I did this every 3 hours, when I didn’t just stay and sleep on an armchair in the NICU. He had transient tachypnea of the newborn, and he was having difficulty breathing. He was so small and I could not protect him. I was tired from lack of sleep. I was in pain, and emotionally wrung out in every possible way. Then he stopped breathing. Twice. I was such a wreck, my husband had to peel me off the floor. But despite all this, he’s been a happy baby since day one. He’s made of sterner stuff, my son. He’s been smiling every single day since the day he was born. He got better, and we took him home after a week.

He’s named after Corwin, from The Chronicles of Amber by Roger Zelazny. I had my doubts and considered naming him Ethan instead (which is his middle name now), but after everything we’ve been through, I just couldn’t imagine calling him anything else. The character is smart, sharp, resilient, has incredible stamina and endurance, and has regenerative abilities. It was half geekiness on our part, and half wishful thinking. I needed my little boy to hold on and heal. Almost 7 months later, I can’t imagine him with any other name. It suits him perfectly.