Babyboy is growing fast, and the days and nights blur past us. This is HARD work, much harder than I ever anticipated. Both the grieving for what we lost with Otis, and the learning curve with raising this little guy...I am so swamped, so much of the time. Doing my best to keep my head above water, but it's not easy. We've had help lined up (family and friends) and like 90% of them seem to have gotten sick the day before they were scheduled to help out, so we end up fending without them. Plus, this baby came a month early. We had NOTHING, literally, NOTHING, set up for him. I hadn't let myself even think through the "what if he gets to come home with us?" questions yet. Needless to say, there's a lot to set up, a lot to learn, and I've got a huge incision across my belly and was in a fair amount of discomfort for at least the first week in my recovery that prevented me from doing much other than nursing and sleeping.
Not to mention (TMI, sorry) we had quite a scare on Sunday night when my bleeding picked up significantly and then I passed a large piece of "retained tissue." You'd think with a c-section they'd get all that out easily - not so much. Apparently with preterm babies it can be more common that a chunk of membranes/placenta gets left behind. Ewww. Not to mention super scary. I'm fine now, just a little rattled by the whole thing.
When does this get easier, by the way?
I'm madly in love with this little boy, I stare at his lips and his nose and lose myself for hours...I still can't believe he's here. I also miss being pregnant. I feel cheated in many ways of those last few weeks, though I also know I was also probably lucky to not have had to endure the anxiety of the last weeks of a pregnancy. I'm so thankful he was born healthy even at 35 1/2 weeks, that his jaundice cleared rapidly and he's growing like a champ. We still have to deal with a few "preterm" concerns and are maybe more cautious than we would be if he were born at term, but for the most part, we're super lucky that he's as healthy as he is.
From my bed, I can see a photograph of Otis. I lie there, nursing Owen, and my gaze goes between my two sons. They have so many similar features, there are times when Owen is asleep that I panic because I get a flash of Otis, of our last moments with him. But Otis was such a big boy, and Owen is so tiny still. I still can't grasp how my sturdy man, my big strong baby boy with a head full of hair, isn't here with us - I know I never will. I miss him so much, every day. Putting Owen's clothes away into Otis's dresser was probably one of the hardest moments so far. "I was JUST DOING THIS, JUST DOING THIS..." I kept crying and repeating. It seems like just yesterday, there I was, eagerly awaiting Otis's arrival, tidying and readying for him, picturing him in all the outfits, dreaming dreams for our family...and now I do the same for his brother, and yet with a constant tinge of fear, anxiety, sadness that I wouldn't wish on any new mother. Oh Otis, I miss you. I wish you were here with us.
I'm reading along with your blogs still, just unable to write much because I'm usually one or no-handed. Thanks for abiding. xo