TMI

We attended a wedding when William was only two weeks old. People seem impressed that we did this, but going to this wedding was muy importante for Ben and I. We finally got dressed, got out of the house, and socialized with people other than ourselves.

We felt like members of society again.

During the reception, William relaxed in his stroller while Ben and I talked with two older men who had grown children. The men pointed to William and asked Ben how everything was going.

Ben's eyes lit up and he enthusiastically explained how we pumped and stored breast milk for the first time that morning. He said it went well, and we hoped to continue.

I turned bright red. Our new friends stood frozen with their beers paused midway to their mouths. Apparently, me pumping break milk was not the response they expected.

I stopped Ben before he continued and said, "I don't think they want to know about pumping. I think they just want to know, in general, how everything is going."

We laughed, awkwardly, and one of the older men took a swig of his drink and said, "Yeah, TMI (too much information)!"

William at the wedding

He's Here!

Our baby arrived! He's here. He's perfect. He's safe and sound.

But, boy oh boy, has he turned everything upside down and changed our lives. For the better, of course! At least, that's what I repeat to myself when running on no sleep and freaking out every time he coughs or sneezes.

I never knew someone so tiny could make such a big, no, HUGE, impact on our lives.

Baby William is now four weeks old. I remember the first two weeks as one sleepless, stressful blur. Ben and I don't have other children and neither of us babysat much, so nothing really prepared us for parenthood.

The third week was a little better.

The fourth week gives me hope that we will survive. Our son will survive. Our family will make it!

Most people with children empathize. They remember how tough the first few weeks are. I've met a few people, though, that obviously suffer from amnesia and remember the first few weeks with fondness. They make comments like, "It's the best!" and "Don't you love this stage?"

Don't misunderstand me. I love Baby William. I love him with all of my heart. But, in the beginning and even now, that love is coupled with a lot stress, anxiety, and feeling completely overwhelmed.

I'm just trying to keep him alive! That's my goal.  One girl asked me how much I loved being a new mom, and I only nodded because answering her with words would have involved a lot of tears.

It's okay, though. Every day gets a little better. Right now, I cling to the sentence that all parents have shared... it gets easier.