Eudora had a great time playing with her big brother’s bulldozer at Grandma and Grumpy’s!
One year ago today, I started the morning out just sure that it was the day. I spent some time in bed timing my contractions. They stayed pretty consistent. The husband called our doula. I ate strawberries for breakfast and then threw them back up. In the end, I spent a lot of time barfing, but I got a beautiful little baby out of the deal. Today is my beautiful baby girl’s first birthday!
To think, she started out looking like this:
She weighed eight and a half pounds at birth, so she wasn’t tiny. However, she’s awfully tiny for her age, now.
At around eighteen pounds, she’s my perfect little shopping buddy. She’s light enough to carry, interactive enough to be fun, and is absolutely fascinated with the world around her. Plus, she really loves exploring cloth diapers, so that makes her a better shopping buddy than her dad!
Happy first birthday, my beautiful baby girl.
Eudora adores rubber duckies. Norton was also quite fond of them at her age, so I realize that it’s not an unusual phenomenon. But what’s interesting is that Eudora doesn’t play with rubber duckies just in the bath tub. She likes to play with her rubber duckies whenever she can. (This is part of the reason that we don’t use the rubber duckies with the holes in the bottom. We use the ones that we call “hot duck” to avoid sprays and the mold growth that happened with our cheap stash of duckies that Norton played with.)
Last night during a diaper change, she kept yelling “Duh!” at him. Finally, he said “Duck?”
Her little face lit up and she just burst into precious little baby giggles.
He brought her out to the living room for her final feed of the night. She was clutching the rubber duckie and errupting into peels of baby giggles every time her daddy said “Duck!”
It continued as she climbed around the loveseat with me. She was far too busy playing with her duck to want to feed. She did, however, kindly attempt to share her rubber duckie by attempting to shove it in my mouth. There were also sound checks: she’d bash her rubber duckie on my laptop table, on the wall, on any other available surface. She thought it was the happiest, most brilliant thing in the world. When she’s having that much fun, she really has no interest in food.
It took a few times of her announcing, “Duh!” for me to realize that she was actually attempting to say “duck.” Finally, we had Eudora’s first word. (Well, other than Mama and Dada.)
What kind of words made your baby giggle?
There were a lot of things about my pregnancy with Eudora that didn’t go as planned. Not much went according to my birth plan, either. Oh, and our coming home from the hospital was a disaster. Out of all of those fiascos, though, there’s one thing that was a good move – hiring a doula. You’d think that since I had a repeat c-section, I would have considered hiring a doula to be a waste. You’d think wrong. You see, from the beginning, hiring a doula was more about my husband than me.
In the beginning, I was down with having a repeat c-section. My first childbirth, which was vaginal, was just horrible. I had back labor, and it was severe enough that I nearly lost consciousness. I was on the verge of blacking out when I got my epidural. However, my husband really did want the experience of seeing his child born, so I got on board with a VBAC and started using Hypnobabies to prepare.
I ended up with a c-section because Eudora wouldn’t descend and she was tachycardic.
With all of that in mind, how was hiring a doula helpful? Well, while I was still attempting to labor, she was great about helping me focus. She was company. She helped with keeping the monitors on since Eudora was flailing around in there so that they would lose her on the monitors. She was focused on keeping me comfortable. But the most helpful part of hiring a doula came along after the doctors decided that it would be a good idea for us to do a repeat cesarean.
I was okay with having a c-section. For me, it was fine because I knew that there would be a definite end to the cramping. It was relaxing to know that there was an end in sight. My husband started to fall apart. The last time, I’d had a c-section because I just plain wouldn’t go into labor. It was scheduled after two failed inductions. This time, though, it was a c-section because one of us was in trouble. He was on the verge of a panic attack. The idea of losing one or both of us was something that he couldn’t shake.
At that point, hiring a doula was about him. She took him out of the room for a walk and a coffee. She stayed with him while I was being prepped. She stayed with him and our daughter while I was in recovery (and puking my brains out). She then stayed with us for a bit while I tried to breastfeed (and puked more).
Even though our birth plan was a complete bomb, hiring a doula helped both my husband and me. I’d totally recommend hiring a doula to anyone who is on the fence.
Did you hire a doula? How did it work for you?
Sometimes I’m pretty sure that being a dad means being a superhero. At least, it’s what being a dad means for my husband. Sure, he’s demonstrated his skill in a father’s role through bathing our kids, making baby food, soothing a savage toddler, and just generally being an awesome dad who defies the stupid stereotypes… But this time, he’s found a new level of awesome.
For almost a year, Norton has been carrying around his Pillow. Pillow goes nearly everywhere. It’s gone with us to the park. It’s been on numerous shopping trips. It’s been the source of sadness when I had to give it a bath. Pillow had been stitched back up on multiple occasions when a seam started to come apart. This time, Pillow needed surgery that went beyond a simple stitch job on the seam.
On Thanksgiving (Columbus Day if you live in the States), my husband and I were driving home from my in-laws’ house after dinner. We turned to go home and saw some green in the sky. I was amazed and asked my husband, “Is that Northern Lights?” He said that it was, so instead of continuing to our house (and towards the city), we turned the opposite direction. We parked outside of a gravel quarry and turned off the van. These pictures are ones that my husband took outside of our van.