Back to Work

Back to Work

This is my final week of maternity leave. It seems like forever ago that I left work, still pregnant, just waiting for Evangeline to arrive. My husband made me stop working due to swelling and my having issues with discomfort/etc. I was off for almost a week before Eva turned up. I wish I’d worked until my induction day, so I’d have had that extra week with her instead.


I’m not cut out to be a stay-at-home mum, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel awful about leaving her with strangers; about missing all the little moments; about being away from those big grins and smiles she does in the mornings. I won’t get to lazily play with her hands as she drifts off to sleep next to me on the bed for her afternoon nap. I’ll miss seeing her figure out her motor skills even more than she has already–gripping, grasping, holding something tight. She’s only just begun to try to laugh and I’m going to miss her mastering it.


It hurts. I hate it. But not working isn’t an option–I’d go insane, my career would effectively be over, and money would be beyond tight. It just isn’t worth it, in the long run. I can provide for her better at work and I’ll be a better mother if I’m not engulfed by the role.

I keep worrying that the daycare isn’t going to be good enough. That they’ll ignore her or mess something up. That they won’t know how to feed her or care of her… or even worse, that they’ll just let her “cry it out.” She’s in that fussy stage of her development, but the thought of her being left to cry hurts my heart.

I’m sure all working mums go through this. It’ll get better. The worst part is knowing I’ll get a max of 3-4 hours a day with her. That sucks.

Next week, at this time, I’ll be at work. A very sobering thought. Maternity leave felt like it was going to go on forever back in those early newborn days… now, just, I don’t know. I think I’m done thinking about it for right now.


Husband’s surgery went well, but it was a lot more intense than I anticipated. Seeing him in the hospital gown and on the gurney–ugh… I’m glad his dad was able to stay there with him. We waited at the in-laws until it was time to pick him up. He looked so pitiful sitting there… still in his gown. The recovery period took longer because they were having issues with his blood pressure being too high. I had to help him get dressed. He was really out of it. I really didn’t expect it.

The first few days were rough and exhausting, bouncing between taking care of him and Eva. I just felt so bad for him! I even had to feed him. Then, we went for his post-op and got stuck in traffic for four hours! A major accident had shut down the interstate, sigh. We had to take a long way home. I ended up driving for nearly six hours!


Having him home was nice, though. We got into a routine, he started feeling better… and then it was over. He’s back at work today, after a week and a half off. We took some three month pictures of Eva yesterday, even though it’s a little late. They turned out well, but she refused to smile or grin! All she wanted to do was try and blow raspberries at us. That’s her new favorite thing. The husband also got Eva to fall asleep on him for the first time ever, so he was pretty thrilled.

We went to our weight check during the horrible winter storm (where we got a foot of snow, which I drove in like a champ) and got the “all clear”! Evangeline’s back to where she needs to be, and she’s one looong baby! 96th percentile–yikes.


I keep trying not to dwell on the bad and instead focus on the positive, which has always been difficult for me. That and not measuring time. I get obsessive about time, it’s downright ridiculous. I’ve even taken to counting down the minutes in a day. Maddening! Eva is going to grow so fast and I don’t want to miss any of it… but providing the best for her is the most important thing. And there’s weekends, and holidays. I have a state job, so I get every bloody holiday off!

Once I go back to work, that’s it, it’s over–this time is over. She’s not a newborn anymore and I’ll never get that time with her back. I’ve taken to treasuring every moment, even the ones where she’s screaming or inconsolable… because once it’s over, it’s over. That’s it. Next thing I know, she’s in Kindergarten, she’s graduating High School, and then she’s just… gone–her own life, her own things… it’s baffling.


People weren’t lying when they said you have no real concept of time until you have a child.

Same for not realizing how much you can love something. There are no words.

We’ll find a rhythm, a way. Everything will work out.

I’ll make sure it does.

Mum’s Visit

Mum's Visit

The visit went about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. Though, I will say, I very nearly kicked my mother out of my house. She has some sort of mental disorder (I used to think bipolar, but now I’m not certain) and is horrendously narcissistic. Husband says she is the definition of a narcissist and he isn’t kidding. She made it a point to poke at me and try and get under my skin. I put her in her place, shocking both the husband and her boyfriend, but I did it in a way that she couldn’t turn it around on me… which is definitely a win.


In the end, she got to see Eva and they were only here for two days total, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m just totally done with visitors for now. My nerves were so frayed that when the husband came home, I was furiously cleaning and grumbling to myself. We started talking and I told him how, before she left, she asked when we were coming up. I spun on my heels to face him and said vehemently, “NEVER!” He lost it. Apparently, I made a face.

Anyway, I didn’t actually say that but I feel it. I’m so over my family. Only Aunt Beth really tried to engage Evangeline or spend actual time with her. My mum and dad just sat around, acting inconvenienced, telling me what to do (as if they have any room to talk!), and just being horrible people to be around. My mum especially, though. I wish she’d go on pills–she’s so much more tolerable on pills! I can hardly stand to share air with her when she’s not, ugh.

I’ve only got three weeks left of maternity leave and one of those weeks the husband will be home with us, as he’s having the surgery on his deviated septum tomorrow. So, I’ll be nursing him back to health and taking care of Eva. I feel like I need a vacation after all the annoying family visits.

At least we have the in-laws… thank God for them! Father-in-law is completely enamored with Eva and has even taken to denying me her when she’s crying. He’ll instead just walk her around and talk to her, holding her high on his shoulder. She loves it, quiets down almost immediately, and dozes off. It’s adorable. I wish the husband had that ability. I left her with him to have a bath and she just screamed. Poor husband!

I still can’t believe the visits are over and it’s soon back to work. I’m also happy about the visits, mostly because it cemented the fact that I’m extremely glad I’m far away from my family and their toxic influences. Of course, my Aunt doesn’t count in this at all. My dad wouldn’t, either, if he hadn’t married Mum 2.0. Seriously.



Right now I’m just trying to treasure all the time I have with Eva (even though she’s incredibly fussy lately) and try not to think about the shitty stuff. I’ve made a lot of progress in these past few months, not just as a mother, but as a person… so I’m proud of myself. Even my stupid family can’t take that away from me… at least, not anymore!


Eva has started grabbing and gripping onto things. It’s so fun to watch the gears turn in her head as she tries to utilize her limbs. She’s learning and growing by the day! So hard to believe she’ll be three months on Thursday, yikes. I want to take more photos of her, so hopefully the husband will feel well enough to do that this weekend.

Sigh. I keep looking back and wondering where all the time went. Soon, I’ll be looking back on this thinking the same thing. Time is so fleeting when children are introduced into the mix. I never understood it before, but I do now. Buh.

Dad’s Visit & Daycare Woes

Dad's Visit & Daycare Woes

Dad was here this past weekend, amazingly enough! They arrived late Saturday, we ate a quick dinner of delicious Marco’s sandwiches, and they saw Eva for a few minutes before she melted down because it was well past 7. We usually start her bedtime routine around 7 or 7:30 simply because that’s when she wants to start it. She always gets grumpy or tired around that time. She doesn’t usually doze off until around 8 or 9, though.

They stayed until Eva went to bed and then left around 9pm. They claimed they were going to go and sleep, but we found out the next day that they stopped off at the sports bar/restaurant next to their hotel and drank. Which explained why it took them until past noon to come and see us the next day.


The entire visit was kind of aggravating and extremely disappointing. I had expected dad to come and see Eva and spend all the time he possibly could with her. I understand she’s still small yet, but who knows when he’ll see her next and she’s growing so fast! This is likely the last time they’ll see her when she’s still so tiny and new.


His wife kept complaining about her aches and pains. She didn’t even come over on Monday, it was just dad. On Sunday, I got some pictures done and everything, but Eva wasn’t very fond of dad’s wife and kept melting down every time she tried to hold her. Husband and I are pretty sure it’s because she’s a smoker or she’s just smart… haha! Eva did fine when dad visited on his own, though. She was my typical happy, smiley baby. She gave him big grins and cooed at him.



They stayed an extra day and left Tuesday morning due to the snow hitting the East Coast. We met up with the in-laws and had dinner on Monday evening. In total, I think they saw Eva for a total of four hours that day. They didn’t even get out of bed until after noon and we had already been awake six hours! I even offered to take them to tour our workplace and crime labs… nope. Sigh.


We were up so early taking the husband to his allergy test and ENT appointment. He has surgery schedule for February 13th… so not only will I be caring for a three month old then, I’ll have him to take care of, too! We’re really hoping this solves his breathing issues, as they’ve gotten exceptionally bad as of late.

As disappointed as I am by my dad’s visit, I’m glad Evangeline at least got to meet her grandpa on my side. Dad did one thing completely right, he brought her a Kick ‘n’ Play mat for Christmas. She loves that thing! It’s so adorable watching her on it. Definitely keeps her entertained and lets me get some stuff done.

They brought us a bunch of unnecessary stuff for Christmas. I don’t even know how my dad has money, what with all the spending he does! I would have rather had nothing and seen them spend all their time with Eva, sigh.

As if all of this wasn’t enough, now we’re having issues with the daycare and they’re jacking up their rates by another thousand dollars. So, a year for an infant would be nearly $9,000! That’s insane! We don’t even know if we can get in now, despite what we’ve been told. All of the sudden, “there’s no spots” and “they’re re-enrolling for fall if we want to try for then.” Husband is about to choke someone.

Since bad news travels in pairs, we also found out that the mother-in-law has ulcers in her eye! She’s been having issues and thought maybe she’d gotten something in her eyes and scratched it, but no. She has freaking ulcers. There’s a very high chance of her losing her vision in that eye if they don’t respond to the medication they’ve given her. She’s at the doctor again now to discuss options and get more information. We are all, understandably, worried.

I can’t believe my maternity leave is almost over. Before, I couldn’t wait for it… now, it’s different entirely. I’m going to miss her so much! I love seeing her grins and getting to experience all her new developments. She’s started noticing her hands and feet a lot lately, watching herself move them all around!

I could never be a stay-at-home mum, but I wish there was some sort of happy medium. It just sucks that the first part of my maternity leave sucked. I mean, I loved her, but she was just sort of ‘there’ and when she wasn’t crying, she was sleeping horribly and we were struggling with breastfeeding. As soon as everything starts to even out and get good, I have to go back to work.

Oh, and going back during her four month sleep regression, too. Ugh. I hope it doesn’t hit her, but I’m sure it will. I’m going to be a total zombie!

Disappointment & Failure

I feel like a complete and utter failure. Evangeline’s original two month appointment was on Monday, but was rescheduled last minute due to her doctor being ill. I managed to get an appointment first thing on Wednesday morning. We went in with high hopes–we were excited to see how much she’s grown and to get her immunizations. We didn’t wish her the pain, but being able to have her around others and out without constant worry would be nice!

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. I’d expected to see that Eva wasn’t quite where she needed to be with her weight; I’d known she’d lost some weight during my cold and taking sudafed. My supply had dwindled, forcing me to attach myself to the pump. I consumed water like mad, I eat oatmeal every morning now, and a wonderful coworker/friend made me lactation cookies. We’re back on track, but it was touch-and-go there for a few days.

It seems like Eva’s progress never recovered. She’s only 10 lbs or so when she should be at the very least 12 and at the very best, 14 lbs! They measure and weight first thing, and then we sit and wait for the pediatrician to come in. The husband looked them up on the charts and gave me a worried look. Her weight put her in the bottom percentile, while her height put her in the top. I felt sick.

The pediatrician was kind, but didn’t mask her concern. We’ve been given a month to try and continue on with just exclusive breastfeeding. I’m to eat full meals and make sure Eva is getting the hindmilk and not just the foremilk. I’m pumping after every feed and then offering her the hindmilk that’s expressed. It’s all very daunting and yesterday, after we arrived home, I cried. I cried over her while I was trying to get her to nurse. The husband had left to go to work. It was just such a crushing blow. I thought she’d been doing better–she was going two hour stretches between feeds! But she still wasn’t napping properly. And she hasn’t been pooping regularly–once a week on the dot. All of it should have been warning signs.

But I was too selfish to see them or listen. I was too preoccupied with having time to myself or getting things done around the house. I’d stop her nursing when she got frustrated instead of switching her to the other breast or bothering to burp her thoroughly and then returning her to the breast. It all came crashing down on me suddenly and I felt completely sick with myself.

I crawled into bed around 12:30, as Eva had drifted off due to her immunizations. She was too sleepy to nurse properly. She woke just as I pulled up the covers and began cooing. I peeked over the bed at her in her little convertible bouncer and she smiled at me. I pulled her into bed with me and nursed her there. We cycled between nursing and sleep for a good four hours. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed and she would wake up screaming–a side effect of the immunizations. I’m sure she had no idea why she was uncomfortable. She was spiking low-grade fevers, too. So I curled around her and kept her close to me, checking her temperature and soothing her. I’m not into medicating unless absolutely necessary.

We did eventually give her infant Tylenol more towards the evening, but only because her fever went to 100 degrees. We didn’t get out of bed until the husband came home. I was still upset, but the time sleeping and just holding her helped me try and formulate a game plan. The husband kept assuring me that it would be okay. He’s my only support with breastfeeding and I certainly appreciate it.

I’m pumping after every feed and when she naps; I’ve got milk in 1 to 2 oz increments in bottles to supplement her with if she stops nursing early. I’m feeding her until she gets angry at me for trying. She’s already bodily shoved my boob away and all but swatted away the bottle. She pooped a day early, which is a good sign. We’re making sure her belly is full and Buddha-like. It’s going to be a pain pumping so much, but whatever works. My freezer stash I started is going to build slowly, but contributing 2 oz or so a day is still better than nothing!

We’ve got a month to get her caught up. She’s already doing better today and napping unlike she ever has, which means she’s satiated. She’d wake up constantly and fuss before. Now if she wakes up at 30 mins, she drifts immediately back off. It’s also not hard to get her to fall asleep.

I hate having to use bottles, as we ran into an issue where she didn’t like the slow flow of my boobs… but whatever gets her weight up. She’s still getting 90% boob.

I bought a baby scale off Amazon. It’ll be here Saturday. I refuse to accept “failure to thrive.” When I told the husband that’s what it was called, he was shocked. Needless to say, neither one of us is on board with that being declared. I want to make it at least six months (preferably a year or never!) before introducing any sort of formula. Here’s hoping we can do it.

I hate that I let this happen. It makes me angry, but luckily, anger is usually what fuels me forward. I’m determined to make this right and keep it as such. My personal time and such things are secondary to my child’s well-being. She’ll throw fits because I’m feeding her too much before she’s ever hungry again.

Everything Changes

Everything Changes

I am completely in denial that Christmas is next week! For the first time since we’ve been together, I have no idea what to get the husband for Christmas and he’s already got my presents… sigh. I feel awful. Everything I thought to get him doesn’t release until next year… I really am at a loss. That’s just a testament to how mentally and physically consuming taking care of a newborn is. I’m hoping MIL will watch her this weekend so I can have a few hours out and about before Christmas is over. I love the hustle and bustle of the holidays… being apart from it scarcely makes it feel like Christmas at all.

I’ve been trying to relay to the husband that there’s nothing actually wrong with me and I certainly don’t have PPD. I just have “adjustment pains”. For someone like me, this sort of thing takes a long time to adjust to. It’s even worse because I’m trying not to let myself be bitter about the fact that it seems like his life hasn’t changed at all. He goes to work, he comes home, he relaxes and plays video games.; he gets to do whatever he wants! I don’t have that luxury. Even when I have a few spare moments, I have a hard time “coming down” and relaxing. I feel like there’s just not enough time and the second I settle in to enjoy something, she’ll wake and cry.

Honestly, I want to go back and slap my “past self” for being completely ignorant to how big  of a change this all was. I hated being pregnant so much that I was just sort of ready for it to be over! I remember, at the end, continually thinking “this is the last time I’ll get to do _____ alone or without a baby.” It just wasn’t sinking in. Even when they laid her on my chest, everything just seemed surreal–like I’d wake up and it would all have been a dream.

I’m not wishing time away and I don’t want my daughter gone, either. It’s just hard, to adjust, to feel like you’re the only one who is forced to change while everyone else continues on as usual. I’m intensely maternal, but I’ve never been one for babies. I like cuddling and she’s so small and cute… but the dependency, the lack of independence, the complete and utter inability to have “time to myself” or “personal space” makes everything especially daunting. It might have been different if I’d been better prepared for it…

For the husband, I wish he’d make more of an effort to “engage” me instead of just staring at his computer, playing video games that I can’t play. He doesn’t quite understand how frustrating that is for me. I’m sitting here, lacking sleep and privacy, having to hold her and calm her 24/7, barely getting a chance to eat… and he’s just chilling, doing as he pleases, not really offering to take her or help or anything substantial. Even just talking to me without his attention on his computer would be nice…

I want to enjoy this period and I’m trying, I am. It’s getting better, it will get better. It’s just tough right now as I try to reconcile the change between who I was before and who I am becoming now… sigh. I wish I were better at handling this stuff, but I guess that it’s a testament that I’m able to do all of this without any sort of assistance.


Eva has already started being more “alert” and she’s doing social smiles… mostly only for the husband, of course. It’s still cute. He caught the above while I was getting a bath. He has an app on his phone for cats with colorful fish that move around the screen. She loves it. She swats at it like a cat.


As much as the husband frustrates me sometimes, seeing him interact with Eva and get smiles or giggles from her makes my heart soar. It’s such a strange feeling. I love my daughter, more than I thought was humanly possible, which is why I’m okay with the change in the end. I know that once my muddled mind adjusts to this change, everything will be fine.

For now, I just hold on to these sweet moments and remember, that when I’m up all night with her or she’s nursing 24/7, that this too, shall pass. And someday, I’ll miss her being so tiny. But I’m also looking forward to seeing her become her own little person.