three weeks.

yesterday, my little jude turned three weeks old. we celebrated by heading into town to notarize and send off various forms for her adoption. we then enjoyed lunch at cafe mundi, a favorite haunt that i really miss biking to.

there are so many stories to tell about my ever-changing child. naturally, there is the aforementioned gift of flatulence. and the other noises she comes up with are equally breathtaking. for being such a cherubic little girl, she can imitate the mean screech of a pterodactyl. and she whinnies! you should hear her my little pony impression. she is good, i tell you. gifted.

we all seem to be finding our rhythm around here, three weeks into life on the outside. i am pumping a bit now, so h can give little j a bottle at night, and let me sleep for a few extra hours. (unless jude is still hungry after a bottle, in which case she usually sleeps four hours after having seconds…) even when i don’t get a break in the night, and jude is up every 2-3 hours, she likes to stay in bed late into the morning. and so the three of us often lounge in bed until after 10, us basking in extra sleep with jude sleepily curled up against my breast.

my blues are settling as well. i haven’t written much about the postpartum blahs because it’s hard to put words to something so intense and present tense. i am not sure i am out of it all, but i can at least say that there were moments during the first two weeks that were very hard. bonding is difficult when you can’t lift your baby on your own, when someone has to bring her to you in order for you to comfort her. bonding is difficult when you are too sore to stand long enough to change a diaper or an outfit. and in those voids of bonding moments, fear of not being a good mother–or not wanting to be a mother at all–set in: the inevitable “what have i done” panic. can i handle being depended on so much, especially when i am so weak? will i ever recognize my life again? etc.

i am slowly regaining a sense of humanness…and will even more so once i am healed and no longer bleeding. the panic subsides when i pick up my daughter all by myself and stifle her cries by laying her on my chest. and when there continue to be moments of temporary paralysis when contemplating just how permanent parenthood is, i find this face staring at me:

and i melt into a gooey mess of a grateful mom.

happy three weeks in the world, my little judelet.