My baby's growing up, y'all. She lost her umbilical cord stump at midnight. No more having to fold her diapers over, no more ritualistic cleanings with cotton balls and alcohol. I had gotten so used to the routine. Pull her diaper off. Happy baby. May or may not projectile pee while I'm struggling to put another diaper under her squirmy legs. Wipe her clean, yada yada... fold diaper band over, secure velcro. Reach for the bag of cotton balls and alcohol. Put it to her belly button area. Screams of outrage at how cold it is... more soothing, maybe a pacifier, on goes the onesie, happy baby again. LOL.
No longer! We've put the "stump" in a ziploc bag, just a little bit of proof of how she was once connected to me, how I grew this beautiful child inside of me. Me-- just another bumbling idiot, I nurtured a BABY! And while I always gagged and freaked out looking at the "stump", I kinda miss the extra seconds I spent changing her. It's been two weeks, and even her cry has changed. She's getting bigger. She's got, like, three chins. (Adorable on her, not so much on mama.) She's got this thigh chub that's deliciously squeezable, and she's starting to smile. I don't think it's ALL gassy grins anymore. I think it's the real deal! She's gonna have personality galore. It's so fun to witness.
I. AM. IN. LOVE. WITH. MY. BABY!!!!! I really don't want to go to back to work. I'm hoping Brandon can find a job with great pay and benefits, so the benefits are not dependent on me... I'm hoping and praying for a miracle because when I look at her face, I cannot bear to leave her. I don't mind working part-time, but full-time seems like torture. I'm already compiling a list of rules for her caregivers. They're mostly about when she sleeps because I'm neurotic about sids. Back to sleep, and I want her sleeping area to be in the same room that they're in. I don't really care if it inconveniences anyone. If you want to keep her, you have to play by mama's rules. I kind of don't want to compromise on those things. She's my child. I'm the one who carried her for nine months. I do think I have a say. Anyhow, whew... I get all nervous and bothered about these things. I guess I'm just concerned that my preferred methods won't be adhered to. Going back to work already boggles my mind; I want things to be easy. I don't want to have to worry, you know?
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