Diaper Doody

A man at work today asked me if it was easy having a baby. I stared at him.

Honestly, my experience was actually quite an easy one - 40 weeks pregnant, water breaks, rush to the hospital, baby by noon the next day. It could not have gone any better. Carrying a baby was worse than the actual childbirth, but even that went smoothly for the most part.

After baby arrives, however, is a whole new level of learning. My husband and I learned a lot; about ourselves, about each other, and of course about our baby. We also learned a lot about our families..
I always heard it would "change your life forever" but there's no way to prepare for it. You paint a spare bedroom and call it a nursery, you buy every cute outfit you see (and so does everyone else), you go to the doctor for what seems like 79 appointments in a 40 week period, you find a pediatrician, you get the 411 on breastfeeding from all your mama friends, you have deep conversations with your own mom who reassures you that your body will go back to normal, you tell your husband that if you die during birth it's 'okay to move on' and then listen to him tell you how ridiculous you sound, and the list goes on. But nothing can prepare you for what it's really like.. what it really means to be a parent. It's truly incredible. There's something so empowering about carrying and delivering a baby, and then being able to feed her with my own body is just awesome! I'm so blessed.

There's also nothing that can prepare you for those "only-a-parent has" moments. Like when you find baby vomit inside the waistband of your underwear. Or you catch projectile poop in your hand because you couldn't get the diaper on quiiiite fast enough. Or - my favorite - the first blowout.

Let me break it down: My husband and I had just left an appointment, grabbed lunch and were about to run in Walmart for a few things. I decided I'd better check my girl's diaper and change her really quick the car, so she wouldn't get fussy in the store. As Rob lifts her from her car seat, he said, "Oh no! She must be so hot. Look at her sweating!" No. No no no. As I unbuttoned her cute little outfit, I knew immediately. This child had pooped everywhere - and smiled the entire time I cleaned her up. As I stripped her down and began the wiping mayhem, Rob grabbed a disposable bag and held it open. As I dropped a used wipe in it, part of it brushed his hand. Bless him. "Rachel, you got it on my finger!" I stared at him, much like I did to the man who asked if childbirth was easy. Here I am, elbow-deep in doo-doo - it's under my fingernails, in my car, probably behind my ears  - I all but swallowed it.

Lesson learned: if your baby is too quiet for any length of time, she's up to something. Something gooood.

I have a picture of said event, but I'll spare you the visual.

Until next time!