Three Months

Yesterday was the three-month anniversary of Buzzy's arrival. Here's a summary of our lives together.

Month #1: Buzzy arrives by caesarian with the cord wrapped twice around his neck. I swear that I spend at least half of each day nursing, and when he's not nursing, he's usually crying. We soon discover that he isn't gaining weight - he's constantly hungry and not getting enough. It takes him nearly 3 weeks to get back to his birth weight. I am tormented by the fact that I have to start supplementing with formula and try everything I can to increase my supply. Sleep deprived, I feel depressed and upset every time I am left alone. Though I want to solely breastfeed, I feel completely overwhelmed by the idea that I'll never have more than an hour or so in between feedings. I used to entertain the idea of having a large family with five children, but I now can't imagine ever putting myself through this experience again. Buzzy entertains lots of visitors - Grama Susie, Nana and Papa, Aunties Danielle and Kristin, Cousin Ruby, Auntie Kim, and Grampa and Renee, as well as plenty of members of his Canterbury family. He poops every two hours. I go nearly crazy trying to grade 60 final exams while Buzzy naps.

Month #2: School gets out and Paul is no longer working, which is the most incredible relief to me. Buzzy takes his first trips to Woburn and Rochester and attends his first bike race. He starts to smile and to sleep more about four hours at night. He starts to hold his head with more strength and enjoys his "exercise" - lying on his back and kicking and flapping like crazy. I begin to fall in love and feel like this whole parenting thing is finally starting to click. I also start to get some time to myself to exercise and recharge.

Month #3: Buzzy becomes a Mama's boy. He begins to love the sound of his own voice and enjoys communicating. He particularly loves repeating "Ah-ooh" after us. We travel again to Woburn and again to Rochester, though the traveling is not as easy as the first time as Buzzy begins to hate his car seat. As Paul becomes an expert swaddler, Buzzy has a series of record-breaking nights, sleeping 5, then 6, then 7 1/2 hours at a time (though we haven't seen the 7-hour stretch since). Buzzy, fully diapered and clothed, poops in Paul's hand.

So much of this experience has not been how I imagined and hoped it would be. I read several books, attended a child birthing class, and spent hours visualizing a natural birth only to be induced, medicated, and cut open. Before his arrival, I pictured myself as a maternal goddess, happily nursing Buzzy, but instead ended up feeling inadequate, as though I failed at one of the most natural mothering duties. I used to say that I felt more prepared to be a mother than to be a wife - indeed, I have wanted it for what seems like forever - and yet, despite my characteristic independence and willingness to tackle a challenge, I had a really hard time being left alone with my own son for the first month and a half.

That said, I can now say that I haven't been this happy in years. I feel like Paul and I have accomplished this incredibly important thing - a family - and now my absolute favorite thing to do is to give Buzz a bath with my husband. Miraculously, I'm already daydreaming about being pregnant again soon.