8 weeks

Our girl is growing, faster than I can grasp. The change is so gradual you don't notice as it's happening, but I think back to a week, two weeks, ago, and I am in awe of how far she's come.

She smiles a lot. A LOT. She just beams up at you, her mouth open wide and her eyes squinty (like me) so that the smile is her whole face. And she's so close to laughing--you can tell she's trying.

She's strong and has been since birth. She's stronger than I knew a baby could be. Sometimes she fights me when she's nursing, rears back and throws her hands at me (I don't know if it's aggression out of excitement or frustration).

One of my favorite things is her dramatic stretching, particularly on her changing pad after a nap. She  stretches out those legs, stiffens them, grunt-squeaks, kicks, and does it again.

She's just the best. The best there is. How was I me without her?

I finally started feeling like a me again, like I had a semblance of control and understanding of this new way of life, around six weeks. Now I'm back at work for the first full week on Monday and hoping that I can pull of a fully-there work me and a fully-there home me and feel like I'm whole. There's a lot to manage from all angles, and I'm having trouble making space for to-do's. I'm relying heavily on lists and reminders and still leaving out chunks of life (like communication with friends and family). I am struggling to stay un-anxious when Phillip is on second and third shifts, particularly when he's here but asleep or here but not here. I am struggling to give Scooter the attention he deserves and is used to when I have new demands and priorities. But I am loving motherhood, even if it's going to take months to get used to saying I'm a mother, to not feel silly saying Mama when I talk to my daughter, to saying This is my daughter.

I have a daughter. All I want to do is build her up, give her every early opportunity to learn and grow through play and song and stories and art. I'm going to show her the good of the world but also how she can make it better. She will know her voice and how to use it. And I can't wait to hear what she has to say.

Paige Eleanor

Eighteen days ago, Paige Eleanor Mailloux came into our world. It wasn't easy, it wasn't quick, and it wasn't what we had envisioned, but our girl came out beautiful, healthy, and glowing.

When the terrified of labor phase hit around eight months, I was convinced that because my pregnancy had been so easy that the labor would be hard. The doctor said that was highly unlikely. But my blood pressure was high going into week 40, baby was estimated at eight pounds, and my body was not dilating or softening for labor. The result was this--in abbreviated form because I'm processing it and will be for some time: 48 hours of induction with no progress resulting in a c-section and our "It's a girl!" moment at 2:15pm on Friday, October 16 when Paige was born.

But the other thing was that on the morning we went to the hospital to induce Phillip found out he had Shingles. And because he had Shingles that could be transmitted to immune-suppressed people at the hospital and, namely, babies, the head of infectious diseases said he couldn't be at the hospital. And because he couldn't be at the hospital he couldn't be present for his baby's birth. And because he couldn't be present for his baby's birth his mom took his place with me and Facetimed him in the operating room, trying to keep him involved since he was at home a mile away but so far, far from where we were. It wasn't until Sunday when the medicine had dried up his lesions that he got the okay to come to the hospital and be with us, his girls. Again, it's still too fresh for me to tell the whole story, to tell you how it felt to watch my husband leave my hospital room when I was lost in my first childbirth experience and process the fact that family would see and hold our daughter before he would.

In the end, we came home on a Monday after five days in the hospital. We came home together. We cried through challenges with breastfeeding and sleeping in the night and pain at standing upright, and here we are at day eighteen with a little girl who's growing measurably by the day and revealing her strong and sweet personality and making us love her with all that we are. We are incredibly blessed and excited to watch her grow.

In days

Happy due date, Baby M!

I'm a day--no more than four--away from baby. I'm tuning in for signs of labor. I'm whispering don't you want to come out to my belly amid the bumps and rolls.

The last few weeks have gotten harder. Carpal tunnel in my right hand, with tingly, numb fingertips. Swollen ankles and calves to where only tall boots fit, and now even they are tight to zip. Heartburn in the evening that wakes me up from the sudden rise in acid. Higher blood pressure at one appointment that led to a 24-hour urine collection testing for pre-eclampsia (none). A belly so big and hard that last night Phillip had to help me take off my shoes and pants. No dilation, no change, to the point where Dr. "aggravated" my cervix Wednesday to try and spark something. Exhaustion but sleep that I wake from every 2 or so hours--practicing sleep deprivation, yes. Am I complaining? A bit.

But because of the check for pre-eclampsia and the lack of progress, we had a 39-week sonogram that we weren't expecting to make sure everything was okay. And it was. And I got to see my baby's chubby cheeks--and hair!--in the womb, making me all the more anxious to kiss them in person. Phillip keeps looking at the picture and saying I can't believe how cute our baby is! And it's true, and come on we want to meet you, sweet Baby M.

39 week sonogram

I am now officially on maternity leave after finishing and preparing everything I could on Friday. Though I'm using these first two days to rest, I don't want to waste too many days of leave without the baby. December 7 will come too soon, I know.

Last minutes at work before maternity leave.

My mind right now is calm with the knowledge that all I can do is wait, but a piece of me is anxious in the limbo and startled at the fact that I will undergo an entirely new and life-altering experience within the week. I'm ready for this. I'm ready for you, little one.