1) I need to stop writing about how I don't do well with writing regularly.
2) I still use pictures to substitute for entries. (In junior high, I may or may not have drawn what are now referred to as emoticons to express my thoughts on journal questions for school. The teacher may or may not have found this acceptable.)
3) Most importantly, I realize how nervous and clueless I was the first time around, though I'd like to think otherwise. The second time around is so different, beginning with the birth story!
Sure, both my kids have been c-sections, even though I wanted that neither time. (Apparently I have serious trouble birthing me some babies. Praise God for modern science!)
Last time, we got to that point after several hours of non-productive labor, and wheeled in a little out of it from the meds. This time it was "planned," as in after my doctor's appointment we decided it was the best way to go after the experience last time and the way my body was acting this time. (For viral natural birth proponents, trust me when I say this was a heartbreaking decision, and let's move on.) Being planned, I actually got to walk myself into the labor & delivery OR. It's a surreal experience to willingly place yourself on a table where you know you'll be operated on in mere moments. Though I wasn't really scared, the lucidity of the moment contrasted with last time made the butterflies in my stomach take a bit of a flight. My doctor was amazing and talked me through the whole prep holding my hand as she saw me start to get nervous with Hubbers not yet in the room.
Soon enough we were back in familiar, yet different, territory, and Li'l J was screaming. Again, being far more conscious this time around, it seemed to take much longer, which for a delivering mama raises concerns. Again, the nurse this time gave me a play by play as she sensed me getting antsy and nervous about how long it was taking. I'm telling you - these ladies were reading my mind! Or perhaps I need to work on my poker face as well as my game... To a nervous mama, that sound of a screaming child is the best music ever!
Well, long story short, my recovery this time was more complicated, and it involved procedures that I'm sure are outlawed by the Geneva Convention. The Hubbers and I are still a little traumatized, can you tell? The parenting part came a little more organically this time, though.
While Li'l G was not so little, her brother seemed wee weighing in almost two pounds lighter than her. Though he was "wee"-to-us (I was reminded many times that he was actually an average sized baby an not wee at all), all the nerves about people holding him, staying "on schedule," feeding, etc. were pretty non-existent.
Do I still worry about whether he's breathing at night? Sure, a little. But as I look at going back to work this time after just a month off, I'm definitely more at ease. I don't dwell on the mommy war issues (breast vs. bottle, co-sleeping, kangarooing, etc.) or feel guilty for being excited to go back to work. This could be my now "veteran" parent status, or the fact that I have a toddler in my ear most of the day so I don't have time to get nervous about Li'l J!
It could also be that the grace of God has helped me to sift through the junk and finally trust that with Him, I've got this covered. He's given me an incredibly supportive husband, even amidst hormones, and two really amazing kids. It's a great feeling to have a little wind in my sails this time around and really not care what other people think of my parenting style and mistakes. I know the secret - not even one of us is a perfect parent. We work hard, we do our best to give our kids what's best for them and we make it up as we go along sometimes.
And now, to heed the age old advice of "sleep when the baby sleeps," it's back to bed for this mama!