My Chunk of Change

So.  Um.  Hi.

I don’t even know where to begin.  I’m not even sure I’m really ready to begin.  You know what, let’s just start with a picture.

Yes.  Paul is here.  And while I’m trying to comprehend the enormity of him – his size, the responsibility, the relief, the emotions – I’m a big ol’ ball of selfish.

And I’m ok with that.

I can’t seem to share him.  I keep stalling visitors, turning down offers of help.  Rocco keeps begging for a chance to hold him.  I can hardly stand putting him in his crib at night.  It makes me panicked to let him out of my sight.

I don’t quite have my head on straight enough to tell you the tale of his arrival.  Or about his week in the NICU.  Not yet.  I definitely couldn’t do it while it was happening.  But I think I probably will.  Eventually.  Just as soon as I can put him down again without that overwhelming fear that they’ll take him away again.

Now that he’s home, it’s getting easier.  I can sniff him whenever I want.  No alarms go off when he yawns.  He isn’t forever tethered to an outlet like a cellphone with a bad battery.

Now he’s mine.  That’s starting to sink in.  And it seems possible that he’ll be around indefinitely.  So now I can just love him without fear of how much it would hurt if I had to stop.

Woof.  This all sounds overly dramatic, doesn’t it?  I’m sure it’s the hormones.  And the sleep deprivation.  And….

The takeaway though is that he’s home and safe and wonderful.  I’m healing (sadly, without the aid of narcotics).  And Rocco is over the moon.

But I’m still feeling a little selfish.  So forgive me if I don’t get that story written right away.  There’s a baby to smell, after all.

More stories later, but in the meantime, here’s another gratuitous photo.  It’s motherfucking booze time AND mothersucking boob time.  All at once.  Yee haw.

 


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61 thoughts on “My Chunk of Change

  1. I love how you called out the truth about motherhood: instead of all the glorifying selfless sacrificing sainthood aka motherhood crap, yes, what mothers experience is something that can be termed as being “selfish”. You made this person.

    And oh don’t you just wonder how it is possible babies smell so good?…

    {{{{hugs}}}}}

    Be as selfish as you want/need. We won’t ask anything less of you.

  2. Congratulations again! I love the name Paul. I have a Paul too. So happy you and Paul and Rocco are home safe and sound in your own place. Look forward to hearing more about everything!

  3. Congratulations Elly-on the babe and the return of mfbt! I loved those first few weeks home. The whole world seems like an entirely different place. Have fun with him and we’ll be seeing you both on Uke day, right???

  4. I’m so glad that he’s home and that you’re so in love with all nearly 10 (?!) lbs of his sweet baby goodness. As you traverse the ways of the world with a giant child, enjoy every little moment. And don’t buy very many clothes between 0-6 months, you won’t need them. :)

  5. Awww, he’s gorgeous! Enjoy this time and don’t feel guilty for hogging him. Someday (when he’s about 17 probably) there will be a moment where you think “I can’t stand to look at his know-it-all face one more damn minute today”…so don’t be any rush to let him go.

  6. Boobs and booze, two of my all time favorites. Also, don’t feel bad about not putting him down- Chuck caught me snoozing next to my firstborn in the co-sleeper because I needed to be next to her every single second. When we figured out I was going to collapse it I was allowed to keep my head in but my body on my own bed. And yes, I did have to take a little “vacation” a few months later.

  7. Oh Elly he’s gorgeous! How do you feel about me fixing him up with my honorary niece Ella? She was born 4 weeks ago. How does he feel about older women?

    Really, he’s just glorious! And huge! And the definition of adoraballs!

    So glad you’re home and healing!

  8. When our oldest was born she spent a week in the NICU. I’d visit every day before work, over lunch, and again after work. I can remember riding down in that elevator, with my hands pressed to my facing just smelling that wonderful newborn baby smell, thinking “I don’t ever want this moment to end”.

    Also, Best photo evah. Happy MSBT & MFBT.

  9. Elly! I can’t stand it. I cannot stand how lovely you both are. And drinking while breastfeeding is RULE #1. Best way to go.

    I’m sure the week was hellish. It’s, it’s just a nutso fucking thing to have a kid in the NICU. I’m glad he’s home.

    Nibble his ears. Trust me, it’s okay. Baby ears are yummy.

    Honey, it’s game-changing, having a baby. But who wanted to play only one game the rest of her life?

  10. I’m going to have to agree with the above- you are awesome. Paul looks pretty awesome too. Be selfish. Be very selfish. Hell, I’m just the grandma (also called Mimi) and I was selfish with the baby. Still am after 3 months. They smell amazing and kissing fat baby cheeks is the best thing ever.

    Take care of yourself and Paul and the cats. And oh yeah, Rocco too. We’ll be here whenever you decide to tell us the story.

    I ♥ you and baby Paul.

    ♥Spot

  11. I will forgive you anything if you show pictures of that beautiful little lumper. Don’t feel bad for not letting go of him, I held Bubs for four months straight. And you’ll want those memories to think back on when he’s running at the speed of light and far too busy for snugs from mom. Holy crap, you’re a *mom*! Also kinda a MILF.

  12. I too had my first baby in the NICU. Three long days was enough, lucky me. (sidenote: Had the second and third at home as a result, also wise and very doable choices for me. V. lucky that way.) I still relive those days a little.

    I too had the Back Off Get Your Own Baby syndrome. I had it with my in-laws, my parents, my sisters, their families. I especially had it with my mother-in-law who, by the freakish choices of her culture, claimed the title Mama. It is TRUE. Cantonese mother’s of the dad get that title. >.<

    Just barely (or you know, not at all) over it now.

    Okay, but the real truth? I especially especially had it with my husband, who would race down the hallway to pick her up when she woke from napping. I'm pretty certain she was overstimulated for a reason. (DOH!)

    But you know what? That is your time. You had this baby on the inside of you for forever. Okay, nine months. Someone of the writers out there who talks about sleep calls this period the fourth trimester and, as much as the "expert" books annoy me? He hit that nail on the head. The theory is that a human child's head cannot fully develop (like the soft spot and all) on the inside of your ute (no not uke) because you would not be able to get that baby out (well, now we can but *shrugs* whatefs). So the fourth trimester is when they sleep lots, and figure out the outside world but really need neeeeeed neeeeeeeeeeeeed their mama still. The smell, the warmth, the movement, the familiar soundwaves, and yes, the uke. Yes uke.

    Or maybe this is just me, justifying that I had Back Off Get Your Own Baby syndrome, just like you.

    Congratulations. (Squeeeeee!) You haz a baby!!!

    1. Happiest Baby on the Block, right? So glad we read that. And so bummed you have NICU PTSD, too.

      Also, some day I’m going to get around to telling you just how much I treasure your comment from the other day. Some day.

      1. Do you know how much Joules and I are in love with you?! We’ve discussed it amongst ourselves and decided that we obsessively, truly, madly and deeply love you Sooooo muuuuuuch!

        I’m thinking the comment of which you refer is from a post that is older, one that I went back to maybe? I’m glad I created a little something you treasure. So … if you don’t get around to telling me (and trust me, time will be your least available commodity for a whole lot o’ reasons unless you are one of them super moms >.<), consider yourself having already done it.

  13. I adore every word of every sentence. Before baby, You think you know what love is. But you don’t know that kind of love until it happens. And as soon as it does happen, something tiny shifts ever-so-slightly in the universe, and nothing is ever the same again.

  14. Late. That’s what I am. Late to the party that is. And I don’t even have the excuse of a tiny person latched on to my boob for dear life. Just my husband. And well, it’s getting a little awkward when I kick him out of the car when we get to his work. Sigh.

    Has Paul motor boated you yet? He needs to learn these things. You know when he because an official Cabana Baby.

    Okay this sounds weird now. It’s a new MOTHERFUCKINGBOOZETIME DAY!

  15. So so happy for the new family addition, E. I can’t even imagine what kind of posts and stories we are in store for.

    Also, boobs always win. Every time. No matter what is sucking them.

    The more you know.

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