It’s a shame that although I’ve lost most of the weight, I have that post-birth floppy stomach that should never ever be seen in hip huggers and crop tops, and it’s too bad that I have the traditional new mom dark circles under my eyes. Because you see, Breanna is such an expert at nursing that my milk was starting to come in by the second night, and was in fully the day I came home from the hospital, and these days I have so much milk that I could definintely be a contender for a Hooters poster girl. Alas.

Seriously though. I have enough milk to feed my baby, your baby, the baby down the street, the baby that my hospital roommate kept neglecting to feed (7 minutes each breast the ENTIRE NIGHT from 11 pm until 7 am!), and all the babies in the third world country of your choice. It’s a good thing, obviously, but ouch. It makes those nice long 3-hour stretches of sleep that she gets in two or three times a day/night a little, er, uncomfortable towards the end.

This may fall into the category of too much information for some people, but you know, too bad. Birth = lots of blood loss = the use of pads. That’s just a fact. Anyway.

Tonight I was in the bathroom with Hayley and realized that my pads were all the way over on the dryer and I was already in mid-pee. I noticed one was out of the bag and sitting right near the edge. I asked Hayley to go get it. Figuring I’d need to describe it, I said, “I need that yellow thing on the dryer. See the little yellow square package that looks kind of like it’s wrapped in a plastic bag? Yeah, that’s it! Can you bring it to me please?”

She then walked over with it and passed it to me, saying, “Here’s your pad Mommy.”

Oh. Well duh. I guess she did know what it was after all.

It’s funny how things can change from one child to the next. I still remember so clearly – even though it was over three years ago – giving Hayley her first sponge bath. George and I did it together, clearing the dining room table, laying down one adult towel to put her on, setting out a baby towel for afterwards, and we had a basin of warm water, a couple of washcloths, some baby soap, and nerves galore. We were so careful and slow and nervous, bathing that little tiny baby and it was exhausting.

Today I was alone with Bree, and while changing her, she peed. Usually I see it happen and can “catch” it with the towel or blanket she’s lying on, but this time I was in the process of reaching for the new diaper and only noticed when it was too late. It turned out she had gotten it all up her back, so I decided to bathe her. In comparison to Hayley, I took Bree into the bathroom, laid her on a blanket on the counter, ran a washcloth under a stream of warm water, and quickly wiped her down from head to toe. Then I bundled her in a towel with one hand while supporting her with the other, dried her off, and diapered and dressed her. Altogether, it probably took five minutes, if that much.

I guess the second time around, you just don’t get as worked up or nervous.

It only took me five hours to write up Breanna’s birth story. I haven’t really read it over, just skimmed it, so please excuse any typo problems. Also, I have to double check with George later on my timeline since my grasp of time was tenuous at best; the only time I was fully aware of the clock was when it was time to push because it was 9:30 and I was wondering if I could have the baby out before 10. You can check back if you want, but I’ll only post about it if there are any major changes.

GOD I wish Bree would wake up to eat. Ouch.

Someone came to this site after asking Google why is it when i sit my pregnant belly fold in half at the belly button?

My answer would be: Because there is no dignity whatsoever when you are pregnant. You’ll pee when you sneeze, make unladylike noises when you try to turn over in bed, and your belly and bellybutton will both do very strange things. Just accept it. It will make things easier if you end up pooping on the delivery table or discussing treatment of hemhorroids with a nurse in front of a large audience. Pregnancy and birth are miraculous. But dignified they are not.

In other news, my new goal in life is to be as insanely relaxed as Breanna is. I know that it could all change next week and I coul wind up dealing with five months of colic, resulting in my development of a binge drinking problem, but at this very moment in time, having observed her since Sunday, she is so laid-back and calm and tolerant. I need to develop that in myself.

You know you’re a huge Internet GEEK when you update in between massive contractions. Water broke. See you on the other side.

Why is it that EVERY time I have to get up early to go to a prenatal appointment, I have to actually wake Hayley up? She probably would have slept until about 8 this morning because she was stone cold asleep when my alarm went off at 7, and I had to rouse her from whatever she was happily dreaming about so that we could get up on this cold (COLD) morning to go out.

Phooey. I’d rather be sleeping. Prenatal appointments are certainly better than sick appointments, but once they become weekly they get a little tiresome just because of the effort involved in getting there.

Everyone knows that you shouldn’t leave a baby unattended. Sometimes you feel really happy and relieved when they grow up enough that you CAN leave them unattended to do something quickly, like pee or get something from the kitchen or whatever.

And then this morning Hayley got out her marker stamps and reminded me that even at three, sometimes leaving her alone in the living room for all of one minute just so I can pee can sometimes be a bad move.

Luckily they’re very washable.

I started this in the morning and only got it finished now. Sheesh. New entry up.