Oh, hell. I'm THAT mom.

Well, I'm mostly physically recovered from my LEEP experience and haven't had much to write about when it comes to my physical health. Because I KNOW you're just ready to pounce on any post where I tell you gross details about my ailments, oh yeah.

I've discovered something new about myself as a mother these days. It appears that I'm a wimp. Or at least a wimp when it comes to transferring Essie from co-sleeping to sleeping on her own in a crib. I am truly bad at it. And the problem here is not Essie in any way, shape or form. No; it's me.

Ever since Ess came home from the hospital I've co-slept with her. It was easier for me to react to her quickly and it also afforded me a bit more sleep at night since when she needed fed I just had to grab her bottle off the dresser next to me instead of get up and go to another room to get her and feed her. It worked, even if it gave us less room in the bed, and we were all pretty happy.

Now I have to interrupt this story to tell another tiny one, but it's necessary. Essie and I are currently staying in Kingston at my mom's place and Andrew comes to stay on weekends. The apartment in Toronto was just not sufficient for Essie to have the space and freedom she needs as she gets more mobile, but we don't want to get locked into another rental agreement just yet, so this is the short-term solution. It's hard, yes, but Essie has already flourished so much in just the short time we've been here that we know it's the right thing.

OK, so Essie and I have still been co-sleeping here in Kingston but when Andrew is here the bed doesn't fit the three of us. Our bed in TO is a queen, this one is a double and I think even the queen would be too small at this point. Essie's a big girl now, around eighteen pounds and already longer than most babies at her actual age of nine months. She's way, waaaay out of the ballpark for her adjusted age of six months and is wearing clothes in nine to twelve-month sizes. She is not kidding around here.

The two of us fit comfortably in the bed, even if she does wiggle over to my side so she's pressed up against my back all night. It's cozy and warm and nice. But getting her to simmer down and go to sleep each night is becoming more and more difficult, so I figured that plus the weekend situation meant I had to transition her to sleeping on her own in the crib, and hopefully not needing me there while she falls asleep.

She's slept in her own bed a couple of times, but not truly all night long since it's pretty easy to just fall asleep with her after bringing her back to the big bed for a feeding during the weekend. This week I decided to get serious about it, finally, and yesterday I experimented by putting her down for a nap in the crib and just walking out of the room after tucking her in. To my great surprise she just drifted off to sleep like it was no big deal. She did that for her next nap, too! Wow.

When bedtime came, though, she was having none of it. I ended up snuggling her to sleep in the big bed and then putting her in the crib while she was asleep. And she slept there all night but I was a mess! I had nightmares all night long about leaving Essie alone in various places and finding out that she'd been screaming and crying the whole time because I'd abandoned her. We were sleeping in the same room but I felt like I was neglecting her or something.

I know I'm the one with the issues because this stuff isn't bothering Essie at all. My guess is that this is leftover angst from the time she spent in the NICU, when I had no choice but to leave her behind and go to sleep far away from her. Finally getting her home with me and being able to hold her in my arms as much as I wanted was a big deal and I felt like I should never, ever let her feel like I wasn't there for her.

So me = ridiculous wimp who feels like she's a mean mom for putting her baby in a crib at night. I'm sure I'll get over it eventually, especially when I can put her to bed for the night as easily as I can get her down for naps. That'll be pretty nice.

She looks like Shaughnessy most of all.

Shaughnessy's having a pretty good week, overall. She's back off of her CPAP, seemingly for good this time. We were a bit worried that they were cycling her off of it too quickly again, but as I kept reminding both Andrew and myself; a week in the life of a preemie is a pretty significant chunk of time and her lungs have probably strengthened up more than we'd expect.

She's had two eye exams so far to check for ROP and so far both have come up at zero, which is the best result you can get. She is startled by loud sound and is obviously light sensitive so for now I'm not worried about basic sight and hearing. It's too soon to know if they're perfect or anything like that, but it's all encouraging!

What the CPAP news means is that she'll be moving to a different hospital within the week. I called today to check on her and the nurse asked me what hospital we want her moved to since it's imminent. We want either St. Michael's or Mt. Sinai and would prefer the latter since it's even easier to get to, but we'll see. I don't know what the protocol is for these kinds of things and nobody had really mentioned Mt. Sinai to us as a possibility.

ANYHOW, I'm just excited because she's doing so well and getting so big. She's really starting to put on weight and fatten up a bit. She's hardly recognizable as the baby I had five weeks ago. She's not fat yet, by any means, but her cheeks are really filling out, her arms and thighs are starting to get pudgy and she may even have a butt beginning! In all the dreams I had about having a baby during my pregnancy I had a fatty fat little girl, but as one of the nurses said to me she might just be a lean baby naturally when she's reached her 'ideal' weight. She is a lot like her dad.



Speaking of which; I think she looks totally like Andrew. She has his face shape, definitely has light hair and just overall seems to bear a strong resemblance to him. I'd read all about babies looking more like their fathers as an evolutionary safeguard against the father rejecting the child, but I was surprised to read up on it more and discover that apparently the mother will also insist strongly to the father that the child resembles him, even if they're less likely to claim the same thing when he's not around.

Now, I'm ALWAYS telling Andrew how much I think our girl looks like him. I'm disappointed to think that I'm obeying some sort of evolutionary imperative, but I also insist the same thing to anyone else who will listen. I mean, I think she might have my ears and nose and will probably look like a girl and all, but you can SEE the Andrew half of the equation when you look at our daughter. Even the nurses have told me so.



What it boils down to is that no matter who she looks like she's adorable.

I do wish I had a pillbox like that.

So I had my first official real nightmare about this baby. I crashed hard in bed last night after the wedding festivities and had a few weird dreams, but this one freaked me out.

Yes, I know other people's dreams are boring.

So, in my dream I totally had the baby and was all, "Baby-having is sooooo easy and painless. I don't really think that hurt at all!" And the baby was so tiny that she fit in a pillbox so that's where I carried her. No wonder it didn't hurt.

I set the pillbox carrier down at some point and TOTALLY misplaced it. It was a pink pillbox, very cute, and easy to spot. When I realized I had no idea where I'd set it down (with my daughter inside) I started to freak out. I knew Andrew would be really pissed off, plus I was extremely embarrassed that I'd misplaced my own child like that.

I searched and searched and searched, but it got pretty obvious that I just wasn't going to find her again. My baby was gone for good.

Waking up was a relief because I know exactly where the baby is for now and s/he'd better stay there for a few more months.