One Week

Dear Chloe,
Sometimes when I look at you, it's hard to believe just a week ago, you were stuffed inside of me. You must be pretzel girl because you were so big to be contorted inside my belly. I'm still in shock when I look at your perfect little body and realize we created you. I play with your ten tiny toes and fingers when I hold you in my lap, you have long digits like me. I think you look more like your Dad right now, your face is more round like his than long like mine. I don't know what color your eyes will be yet, they still have that newborn blue color.

I sometimes doubted my ability to love and my mothering skills when I was pregnant. For 31 years, I was independent and free. I was afraid I would feel resentful of another being completely depending on me. I love you more in one week than I have loved in a lifetime. I remember hearing other kids cry and I would get so annoyed. "Would someone please shut that kid up!" It's different with you, it hurts to hear you cry. Thank God you are such a good baby, you only cry when you need something. When you cry, I have a maternal instinct to rush to your side and help you. I will hold my pee if you start crying so I can comfort you. I don't follow the philosphy of "let babies cry, it's good for them". I know you are trying to tell me something and it's my duty to figure out what.

You aren't a fan of feeling clean. You get so angry when we bathe you, I almost hate to do it. You open your mouth wide and let out such loud wails that it shocks me you are capable of making such noise. The other night, your Dad helped me bathe you and held you over a bowl while I washed your hair. You were so upset, your entire body got red because you cried so hard. I guess you were trying to send a message when you proceeded to poop on your Dad's jeans while I was rinsing shampoo out your hair. Better him than me, you made me laugh hard.

You are easy to breast feed. The first two days were tough because my milk hadn't come in and you were hungry. You'd want to nurse almost constantly, sucking with no success. Hey, I'd be pissed too if somebody gave me a empty Diet Pepsi can with a straw. Now, that my milk is in, I'm shocked to finally have boobs. Before I was just nips. You are funny when when you are hungry. You do this head bobbing action that reminds me of a chicken pecking the ground. When you are put to my breast, you make all sorts of noises. Some are grunts like a pig and some sound like a tiger feasting on a gazelle. When you finally latch on you make coo's of contentment like you are getting a swedish massage at the Ritz. Sometimes, you are so excited to feed, you furiously root around and get mad because my nipple isn't magically in your mouth. This usually happens after I have showered. You don't like clean nips. You will taste them and make a disgusted face. You have to keep taste testing until you slobbered them up enough that they smell like you again.

I started to have some of the baby blues which I guess is normal. Sometimes, I just want to cry. One day it's because I feel lonely. Mostly it's because I'm struggling with my body image. I think I'll never feel sexy again. When I undress and get into the shower, I have cried on a few occasions. I know I can't expect to be back to my prepregnancy size in a week but it still shocks me when I see a belly that looks three months pregnant. The worse part is the healing of my va-jay-jay. Everytime I go to the bathroom, I have to use a squirt bottle because it's too painful to wipe. I'm scared to look because I'm afraid I'll never be normal again. It's like I'm damaged goods, a can of green beans that's been dropped too hard that bears a huge dent. Then, I feel guilty for having these feelings because I got what I have always wished for; a happy and healthy baby.

Your grandma, my mom came over last night and brought us Thai food, my favorite! She spent the night with us. She listened and patted my back while I cried about my insecurities. That's all I needed to feel better, to feel loved and understood. She held you while I sat in a salt bath which I cut short because I heard you crying. When I got out, I starting talking to you. "I'll be right there, Chloe!", I called out from the bathroom. Mom said you calmed down and turned your head listening for my voice. It makes me feel like an Oscar trophy knowing I can comfort you by just the sound of my voice. Grandma, you and I all cuddled in the bed together and watched the movie "Big". I fed you one last time before I turned off the TV. My mom gave me a hug goodnight and said, "I love you honey. I'm so proud of you for being such a good, attentive mother." It meant the world to me. All those bad feeling I'd been having about myself were erased. Maybe I won't be the ripped, triathlete that had a tight ass in spandex shorts and just nips in jog bra but it's not so important anymore. You are my number one priority now. One day, my baby snail, I hope to hold and comfort you after you give birth to your child and tell you what a great mama you are too.