​Leon’s pediatric cardiology appointment was yesterday. I was nervous since we never really got a thorough explanation of what was wrong with his heart. Leon laid silently on the exam table as the nurses conducted an EKG and ultrasound on him. It reminded me of the NICU, but I was surprisingly unbothered…so long as everything turned out okay.

After a wait that seemed like forever, the cardiologist came into the room and cheerfully explained Leon’s diagnosis. He has a stenosis in his pulmonary valve, but it’s so minor that it has an “almost zero” likelihood of ever affecting him. He recommended a follow-up visit in six months, but literally said to forget about it until the appointment because it really doesn’t matter. What a relief!​​

We had a two-week checkup with the pediatrician this afternoon. Leon did great for his bloodwork — no tears! And more impressively, he’s grown 0.75″ and gained a full pound since he was born 15 days ago!

As Leon’s been putting on weight, I’ve been losing it. At my two-week follow-up OBGYN appointment this morning, I weighed in at just eight pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight. That’s 29 lbs gone in two weeks — I can’t really complain about that!

​After a doozy of a first week, here we find ourselves at 10 days postpartum. I can’t believe how much has changed since we’ve been home! Dare I say…it’s almost like we’re getting the hang of it.

1. I’m no longer traumatized by Leon’s NICU stay. It was a really upsetting period, but thankfully also a very brief one. Now that we’re home, it seems like just a weird dream or, at most, a distant memory. One thing I hope I don’t forget is the kindness of the nurses at the NICU. They took care of Leon when Minh and I had to leave to sleep or eat, and most of them had enough love left over to throw a hug my way when I cried. I can’t imagine having the strength to be in that environment day in and day out.

2. More than ever, I feel like Minh is my perfect partner. Our first two days home from the hospital, Leon cluster-fed for five hours in the afternoon and wouldn’t sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. I forgot to eat and drink enough water because we were constantly tending to him and trying to find necessary items that had been carelessly tossed in random bags. I was so overwhelmed with the mess from the hospital freebies thrown everywhere and the shock of suddenly being on-call 24/7 that those first two or three days felt like a nonstop fire drill. I didn’t know what would be Leon’s “normal.” But Minh addressed the extra pressure with such determination. He went grocery shopping, cooked, washed dishes, tidied the house, took care of three dogs, and did laundry when I was too overwhelmed to do anything other than breastfeed and nap. He learned how to tie the Moby wrap (which I have yet to figure out) and proposed strategies for remembering how long a bottle has been left out. He kept us sane with humor and affection. He only takes one break from helping with Leon, and that’s the early-morning shift after he stays up all night putting him to sleep. I wouldn’t want to be on this journey with anyone else.

3. I like my baby more in the afternoon/evening. I’m not even sorry. Those 4:30 a.m. screams are REALLY going to be hard to get used to.

4. Physically I’m feeling great. Despite being sleep-deprived, I feel less tired than I was when I was pregnant (take that, nay-sayers!)
My c-section tape fell off and the incision is barely visible; actually, it looks like they took Leon out laparoscopically because the scars from the staples are darker than those from the incision. In a few months, I’d be surprised if the scar was much darker than my skin tone.
My stomach is smaller than I thought it’d be at this point. I still have weight to lose, of course, but I’m surprised about how apathetic I am about it. Something about taking care of an infant leaves less time to fuss about smaller things.
I don’t even hate the few stretch marks I have; I like that they’re asymmetric because it reminds me that Leon’s big booty pushed against my right side for the final few weeks. They’re battle scars.
And I loved being pregnant, but now that I’m not, I realize just how uncomfortable I was towards the end. It’s incredible — every sleeping position is comfortable! I can cut my own toenails! I don’t have to pee every half-hour! I can bend over without grunting!

5. I’m slowly adjusting to this new life. I knew the first couple weeks would be hard, but no one could explain why they were so hard. Now I know. I felt so guilty for the first few days because despite giving birth to him, I didn’t feel an instant connection for this tiny stranger who screamed at any hour of the day for us to feed him and wipe his butt. But it helped to have a sense of humor about how goofy his grunts sound or the weird facial expressions he makes in his sleep or how gross his umbilical stump looks. We’re still learning him, and that’s okay. We know we love him, and the bond will come in time. Every day that passes I want to try harder and harder to be his mommy.

6. Thank God for Amazon Prime.

7. Before this morning, I don’t remember when I last washed my hair. I actually bought more nursing bras online so I can make it a little longer in between loads of laundry. Leon has been hanging out in nothing but a diaper and swaddle for most of the week. But every day I feel like I get my shit together a little more. Yesterday while Leon was napping, I finished a load of laundry, filled out part of Leon’s growth chart, sent some emails, tidied the house, emptied the dishwasher, sorted the mail. I even remembered to eat a snack. I’m basically the anti-supermom right now, but I don’t feel guilty. I’m doing my best and taking care of myself.

8. We learn so many new things every day. Today, we learned that tummy time shouldn’t come immediately after eating. 🙁

9. I still can’t believe that I’m someone’s mom. That is such a big job. My parents were the go-to comforters for me as a kid, as they should have been; they tucked me back in when I had a scary dream and helped me when I got frustrated with math homework. And now I’m that for someone else. I always thought I would get some kind of instant “mom intuition” the second my baby was born, but really I’m just playing it by ear and doing the best I can. I hope it’s good enough.

Today is my due date, and I have a five-day old!

​I’d been cramping for almost all of my New Year’s vacation, and at its worst I couldn’t sit or stand for longer than a couple minutes. On January 2, I had miraculously been cramp-free for a few hours, so I got everything ready for work the next day and went to bed.

At about 5:30 a.m. on January 3, I woke up and the cramps were back, but this time I had some relief in between every few minutes of cramping. I started timing the contractions at about 5:50, and by 7 I woke Minh up to let him know I was going to shower and we probably needed to go to the hospital because my contractions had been five minutes apart and a minute long for the past hour.

As I was putting on my coat, I felt “the gush.” I ran screaming to the bathroom because it was pretty much the most disgusting feeling ever. But it confirmed that we definitely needed to get to the hospital.

When we got to the labor and delivery ward, I was examined and immediately told that there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. It’s common so no reason to worry, they told me, but they wanted to put me on pitocin to keep labor from stalling.

After about 7 hours of labor (yet only 1.5 centimeters dilated), I opted to get an epidural (I knew I’d get one anyway, but 1.5 centimeters seemed so soon!). It was almost euphoric to go from experiencing the worst pain of my life to feeling nothing in just a few minutes. I slept quite a bit after that – probably eight or ten hours in total.

Initially, Dr. Roberts was sure I would have delivered by midnight, but by that time (hour 19 of labor) I was still only dilated six centimeters. It was taking hours just to dilate one centimeter. The doctor wasn’t sure why it was taking so long, but he guessed it was because Leon’s head was too wedged in my cervix for it to dilate well. He said I could labor longer if I wanted, but he didn’t think I would progress any further and suggested a cesarean.

I really didn’t want a c-section, but I wanted a healthy baby more than anything. So they wheeled me into OR #4 and prepped me for surgery.

The surgery didn’t take as long as I anticipated; after about 10 or 15 minutes — at 12:56 a.m. on January 4 — Leon was born weighing 7 lbs, 13.2 oz. Minh watched everything over the blue drape and told me when they pulled Leon out. They took him a few feet away to the warmer to suction his lungs and I heard him cry. Minh went over and announced his features as I was being stapled up.

I was in awe — my body just completed its own marathon. I brought a living human into this world. We shared a body for most of a year, and now he is his own person.

At about 2:00 a.m. the day after Leon was born, the nurses took him away for some standard 24-hour blood tests. I fell asleep and woke when a nurse came to tell me that they were taking Leon to the nursery as his blood oxygen levels were low. No big deal, they assured me — they’d get everything squared away. Minh woke up around 4 a.m. and we went to peek into the nursery window as he was being monitored. I was able to walk but had to be wheeled back.

After waking up later that morning, the doctor came to tell us that they were concerned about Leon’s heart in addition to the blood oxygen levels and wanted to take him to the NICU for a chest x-ray and echocardiogram.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I don’t even know the right word for the amount of fear and despair that crushed me as the doctor told us that they were officially admitting him. My baby was so new and perfect and fragile — and now he potentially had a heart condition? I thought the NICU was for premature babies or sometimes babies who were extremely sick; I assumed that since he was born full term we were in the clear, but now they’re telling me he falls into the latter category?

My body didn’t even wait to react — I broke down wailing such heavy sobs that my incision stung and I pulled a muscle in my ribs and I gave myself a bloody nose. Minh hugged me as the doctor and nurses left and reminded me that Leon needed me to be strong. Had he not been reminding me of how much our baby needs me, I’m not sure if I would have found the strength to eat or sleep those first couple days. I cried at the drop of a hat; I burst into tears when the NICU secretary told Minh and I that we were checking in my pumped milk incorrectly. I just didn’t want to be here. We should be preparing to go home.

Leon’s echo and x-ray came back relatively normal, thankfully. He does have an unusual valve that they’re going to refer us to a cardiologist for, but in the short term we had bigger things to worry about: he had fluid in his lungs, so he needed to be on oxygen and IV antibiotics.

Immediately, our routine was different from what we thought it would be with a newborn. Everything revolved around his eight daily scheduled “touch times.” I would pump as much as I could to bring downstairs to Leon, then we would check in to the NICU and visit him for as long as we could (a typical visit with him involved taking his temperature, checking his diaper, breast and/or bottle feeding, skin-to-skin contact, and another diaper change), then come back to my hospital room with about 90 minutes left to eat and/or sleep…and we did every three hours around the clock. We didn’t miss a single visit. One of Leon’s nurses suggested that we go home to relax after I was discharged, but I was sure that going home to an empty house without my baby would be more upsetting than staying in a hospital.

I never realized the amount of love and attention that NICU families get. In addition to group support activities provided by the hospital, volunteers provided mittens and cuddle blankets, among other things, for the babies. Leon used quite a bit of donated breastmilk to supplement his needs while we wait for my mature milk to come in.

On the second afternoon of Leon’s NICU stay, Minh and went to a support lunch for NICU families. The activity of that particular meeting was to decorate “babies” made out of socks filled with rice, which we figured would be a good distraction from the reality of our son laying in a bassinet just a few rooms away, covered in wires.

The only problem was that the activity involved making the sock baby weigh as much as the real baby weighed at birth. Minh and I were second in the line to add the rice to our sock, and we just felt so uncomfortable pouring scoop after scoop of rice (Leon was double the weight of the second-biggest baby there), so I told the coordinator that I needed to sit down so we could discreetly move to the back of the line. I sat on a chair and held back tears as Minh quickly finished decorating the sock baby so we could leave. When we got back to our hospital room, I bawled thinking back on the parents’ small talk about how many blood transfusions their babies have had or how many weeks they have left to wait. Despite being a full-term and average-sized baby, Leon was sick too. I was just ready to not be there anymore, but we still had a while to wait.

The next day was one of the worst days of my life. Baby blues kicked in, so in addition to dealing with plummeting hormones, everything reminded me of the depressing NICU ward. I was discharged from the hospital but my son wasn’t. Several times Minh woke up from a nap to hear me sobbing, and a few times I disappeared to the bathroom to cry. Both of us were hanging on by our fingernails, but Minh did a better job of keeping it together than I did — at least in front of me. I don’t know how many times I cried that day.

It really didn’t take long at all for Leon to get better though. He was off oxygen and antibiotics completely after two days and was monitored for two days after that before he could be discharged. Thanks to the donor milk he only lost a few ounces from his birth weight. He had a fairly good stay — all things considered — and it seemed like every time we went downstairs to visit him the nurses had another good update or commented on how fervently he was eating, but I still wouldn’t wish this experience on my worst enemy. Minh and I have both had nightmares — one of mine involved somberly pacing the halls of the NICU, looking over at the fuzzy heads of all the tiny sick babies. A couple times I woke up crying. Hardest were the moments when one of us had to just pause our conversation because it just seemed too overwhelming to talk about; most of my nurses and Leon’s nurses saw me crying at least once. Even though my son being born was one of the most exciting days of my life, I know it’ll take a while before I can think back to the days that followed without tearing up.

​​Our saving grace was “rooming in” at the NICU last night. We got to the room, excited to be closer to him to make our visits easier, when we learned that he could stay in the room with us! He was discharged this morning at 11 a.m. Despite the fact that he cluster-fed for over three hours as soon as we got home, I’m already so much less exhausted just from the better circumstances. Here’s to our new new chapter!

​It’s January 1! And I’m still pregnant! We were hoping Leon would stay settled until new year because of the better benefits (maternity leave, etc.) that we’d get in 2017. So A+ to Leon for not disappointing his parents while still in utero.

That said, I’m miserable. Ever since yesterday afternoon, it’s been painful to sit or stand longer than a couple minutes. Sometimes laying down hurts too.

Minh and I actually attended a wedding for two good friends yesterday. Minh drove down early to help set up, and I took an Uber a few hours after he left. I arrived at the wedding destination after 45 minutes of squirming in the backseat and wincing every time the driver went over a bump (which was pretty frequent as that part of town was older). I yelled for Minh as soon as I got to the gate, and when he asked me if I was okay, I broke down sobbing. I had been in so much pain and by myself the whole ride. Thankfully I showed up early enough that I could lay on the hostess’s couch for a half-hour until the pain subsided and my eyes weren’t so red and puffy.

I made it through the entirety of the wedding but have had the same pains since we got home last night. I’m fact, I rang in the new year on all fours with my booty up in the air and Minh rubbing my back, because that was the only way I could at least somewhat ease the pressure on my cervix. Right now I’m laying on the couch with my phone and some cookies, hoping for some sort of pattern.

Please come soon, Leon. I’m ready.

Over the past couple weeks, my stomach officially ballooned to an uncomfortable diameter, and my uterus is “at capacity” according to Dr. Roberts (also confirmed by the inklings of stretch marks that I noticed last week), so I took a few extra minutes this morning to put on makeup and stand in front of the mirror to take a cute progress photo.

After fifteen minutes of struggling with various poses, I gave up. In even the most flattering lighting, my eyes were weary, my face was puffy, and my jawline was fading into my neck. No matter how much sleep I get, I still look — am — exhausted.

Lately I’ve come to understand why scores of women online advise to get maternity photos taken before 36 weeks, aside from the fact that after that point your face starts to deteriorate into something that looks like one of the creepy “after” mugshots they show kids in DARE. I’m just 37 weeks, and already only about half of my clothes still fit. (Last week I whined to the doctor about painful cramping the day before, only to realize later that it was nothing more than my pants being too tight.) Also, mobility is kind of a problem. I don’t even remember what it feels like to not walk like I’m smuggling a grapefruit in between my thighs. I think 36 weeks is kind of the tipping point for what your body can handle. My body’s already deuced out and is just in survival mode right now.

In more positive news, Dr. Roberts confirmed that Leon is head-down and will likely be an average 7½ to 8 pound baby. Heart sounds good, measurements are good, and everything we needed to do to prepare for him is now finished. Just a few more weeks (if that) and he’ll be here! I can’t wait to see his little face!

If there’s one thing I’ve learned through my pregnancy, it’s that anything and everything can change overnight (especially now that my belly is essentially big enough to control the tides). Just a few days ago I “slept in” until 5:30 p.m., yet the night before last I was awake until a few hours before my alarm went off due to rib pain. Eventually I did fall asleep, but not before propping myself up with pillows, stretching out as much as possible, and putting my hands in the air like I just didn’t care.

At 2:30 yesterday morning, I was in tears explaining to Minh how much my ribs hurt. I was frustrated because I couldn’t imagine falling asleep any time soon, and I had to wake up in just a few hours. And the discomfort hasn’t let up. Even as I type this, there’s what I can only assume is a foot under my right ribcage.

And who knew ribs would be so delicate considering that they protect so much important stuff! Compare that to hip bones — when Leon kicks my hips, it feels goofy and makes me giggle; when he kicks my ribs, I lose my breath for a second. He doesn’t kick constantly, but the upward pressure is nonstop.

At my 34-week doctor’s appointment this morning, I asked Dr. Roberts if there’s anything I can do to ease the discomfort. He just explained that there’s really nothing — no stretches, sleeping positions, or exercises — that will effectively and safely move Leon away from my ribs. “He’s running out of room,” Dr. Roberts explained stoically. The simultaneous jabs to my right ribs and left hip confirmed this statement.

Exactly 40 days left (!!!), and hopefully the little (but actually big) guy will drop before then. Until that point, I’ll be distracting myself by researching lactation consultants, making padsicles, and learning how the hell to use a breast pump.

The last few weeks have been more difficult than all of the previous weeks combined. It’s getting tricky to do simple chores such as unloading the dishwasher or sorting laundry. My ribs hurt, my back hurts, and my hips hurt. I feel like the Michelin man when trying to walk down stairs (and also all the time). Even though I passed my diabetes screening, at night I’m thirsty to an extreme that I’d never experienced; I feel helpless to even wrestle myself off the couch to get a drink because I know no amount of water will be satisfying. Then when I do drink even a drop of water, I have to wake up every hour to pee. The day after Thanksgiving, I was so exhausted that I slept until 5:30 p.m., despite not doing anything even remotely strenuous the day before. I even slept upright on the couch last night because I couldn’t find a comfortable position in bed.

But Minh’s been amazing. He’s taken on most of the chores that I can no longer do, without a single complaint. He volunteers to sleep in the living room with me when I have to sleep upright on the couch. He cooks our dinners and makes me smoothies for breakfast. He consoles me when I cry because I can’t do things as easily as I used to. He pushes on my back and hips when I’m too uncomfortable to sit. And when he sings to my belly, Leon kicks and reminds me that’s it’s all 100% worth it.