Substance and Soul

One week in

MotherhoodSamantha WetterholmComment

Emma turned one week old on Monday, can you believe it? Because I sure can’t. We survived!

Can I get a thumbs up? Oh why thank you Emma.

This has been the longest week {or so} of my life. Is this real life? We are pretty much living feeding to feeding and I’m only really looking ahead until the next time I can take a shower. The three of us are still trying to figure each other out. I’m sure she’s wondering what the return policy is…on us. And yes, sitting on the floor crying your eyes out is definitely a side effect of new motherhood.

We left the hospital a week ago {they just let us take this tiny human home, are they nuts?}. We had quite a scare at her first pediatrician’s appointment/weight check. She had lost a whole pound of her birth weight. *panic, hysteria, and more crying ensued*. By the grace of God, our pediatrician made an urgent call to a lactation consultant across the street and they happened to have an opening in their schedule. We rushed over there and spent a good hour and a half trying to perfect the latch and come up with a plan to get her fed. Thankfully, I had a huge supply of milk just waiting for her, it was just a matter of getting her strength up so she had more energy to actually drink it. 24 hours later, she had gained 7 oz and she was headed in the right direction. Okay, breathe Samantha.

She’s been eating regularly now {and by regularly, I mean she eats like a horse and makes sounds like a gremlin}. We had a follow-up with the LC on Monday and she weighed in over 8 pounds, is very close to her birth weight, and is eating like a champ. Yay! We are finding our stride in this whole breastfeeding thing. It’s not the most comfortable thing {read: painful}, but we are figuring it out. Paul is a HUGE help. Praise the Lord for that man.

But enough about the booby juice. Emma has changed our lives. She is absolutely perfect and we are over-the-moon in love with her. She is pretty much a typical newborn, i.e. an eating-sleeping-pooping machine but I am absolutely enchanted. She makes the funniest little noises and has a hilarious I’m pooping face. Her pterodactyl cries in the middle of the night aren’t so cute however {but who am I kidding? I love them, should I be committed?}. I love every little bit of her and I am enjoying every moment with this little Mrs. Potato Head.

Oh yeah, and sleep deprivation is in full force. We are tired, Paul hasn’t shaved, I’m covered in milk, but we are trying to keep our sanity. I have been taking long showers to give myself a little pick-me-up. We took a walk to Starbucks and let me tell you, newborn-sleep-deprivation makes your latte taste like liquid sunshine. And the fresh air helped with the cabin fever. I’m amazed at how my body has changed one week out too. Everything is sucking back in and the swelling has gone away. I am able to wear my wedding rings again and my shoes fit, hip, hip, hurray! Mini-victories. I think it is a win all around if mommy takes a moment to put her head back on.

I’m still writing my birth story, so stay tuned. Hopefully y'all not sick of all the baby cuteness. Anyone, anyone?Bueller? If you’re not tired of it yet, be sure to follow me on Instagram for your daily dose of baby crack.

Oh and feel free to send us food.

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