Category Archives: ZGirl


Stupid prioritizing.

Blog or feed/change/feed/feed/change the baby?

And now that I have what I believe will be just a few minutes of “me” time, I don’t know what to write.

Nothing is new here. Mr. DD must be pretty stressed as well as he has not reigned in his temper when it comes to XBoy. XBoy started 1st Grade last week and for the first time in four years, I did not get a picture of him on his first day of school. It makes me feel quite shitty.

We’ve introduced the bottle to ZGirl and she doesn’t do too bad with it except for the fact that quite a bit ends up running out of her mouth. It’s aggravating watching Mr. DD feed her since he props her up on his knees and feeds her that way so she doesn’t get cuddled. Or he lets her lay flat and she gets gassy…it’s like he’s never fed a baby before. I have to busy myself elsewhere to keep from snatching her up and just telling him to piss off.

Because of the milk that gets spilt onto ZGirl, which subsequently pools around her neck and back, she has become the infant poster child for ProActive acne medicine. She’s a virtual pimple field. It’s not purty. I try to keep her cleaned up and dry…alas, I know it’s a stage she will outgrow soon enough.

She has also been giving us brief smiles, which is impressive since XBoy didn’t first smile until he was nearly eight weeks. The first one I got from her was at her five week point. No matter how tired or bitchy or gross I am feeling/looking, that split moment pushes all negativity aside.

I must go. I would like to be dressed for the day sometime before noon, and my teeth are in desperate need of brushing. I’m working on a new page for my blog which will be a way of thanking ZGirl’s generous internet aunts but my computer gets sketchy connection, at best. Loading pictures takes an act of god; however that’s if I get any pictures taken. She’s changing so quickly and I need to hold each and every moment dear as they continue to float away like so many soap bubbles on a summer breeze.


This is what happens when ZGirl falls asleep nursing and subconsciously decides she’s done before I get a chance to “break the seal”:

This is her in her human disguise:

By the time I wean her, I’ll be able to work my nipples like Indiana Jones works his whip.


One of the most common questions I got when I had XBoy was, “Is he a good baby?”

Why no, he was not. One night when he was just eight weeks old, the local authorities showed up at our door with XBoy in tow: he had been caught tipping cows in the neighbor’s field and drinking their milk.

It’s a pat question for new mothers, and I’m again asked it routinely.

Is ZGirl a “good baby”? She’s a typical newborn which makes me a typical newborn’s Mom, which is to say, she is wearing my ass out.

From about 7:00 pm till 10:30 she is showing every sign of colic. I really thought that my experience this time would be different since ZGirl is exclusively breastfed, whereas XBoy was mostly formula.

I hate colic. I hate that when I try to burp her or soothe her with a short burst of nursing, she becomes as rigid as a plank and scrunches her face and hands so tight, the most tense tissue turns white while the rest is beet red. These are the times I call on Mr. DD. He will walk throughout the house while I lay in bed thinking I’ll try to catch a catnap. I never do, though, since her squalling tears me up.

During the day, she is mostly glued to me curled up on my chest like a small, sweaty rock. When I try to put her down, she begins yelping within just a few minutes. Right now I’m catching a break because I’m trying something new: the bassinet’s on vibrate with white noise in the background. It will probably only work this one time.

In the limited time when she is down, I try to squeeze in a million tasks: napping, laundry, bills, blogging, and even a little work. My moments with XBoy have been slivered to suppertime and then later a quick good night while tucking him in. If I’m lucky, I’m able to help him with his bath. I think that’s been the hardest change for all of us.

So is ZGirl a “good baby”? Depends on your definition of “good”, I guess. To me she’s perfect.

And with that, she’s done with the vibrating bassinet.


Things here have been relatively par for the course now that ZGirl is home. What exactly does that entail?

  • Utter exhaustion because I can’t seem to make myself sleep when she does (like right now), which has led to no less then two mini, teary breakdowns.
  • Limited quality time with XBoy, who besides allowing a few pictures of the two of them together, are rarely seen in the same room.
  • Times where I’d like to jack Mr. DD over the head with a blunt object.
  • Panic attacks when I wake three hours after putting ZGirl down to sleep and realized she hasn’t woke yet.

To be fair, each of those times are tempered by the fact I actually did it – brought home a baby and I don’t think it’s just been a dream.

I stare at her and I see a lot of XBoy’s infant features. I also try to imagine our donor and what she may have looked like. ZGirl’s ears are not her father’s. They are more swirly, more like an exotic sea shell. Her toes are like mine, in how they taper in length, but they will be longer, more graceful. I’ve already heard that she looks like me, and I didn’t feel defensive about it like I thought I might. Instead I just smiled back and accepted the compliment.

Mr. DD returns to work next week and I now can appreciate the necessity of a sling or a wrap, but still am overwhelmed with the options. I’m a little freaked out that it’ll just be the two of us even though Mr. DD has been of restricted assistance anyway due to the decision to give breastfeeding (I prefer the term “nursing”) a try, which has been relatively painless. At night we are trying a split of responsibilities where he gets up when she fusses to change diapers and soothe. If she remains fussy and roots, I then get up to nurse.

The only downside to that is even with earplugs in, I hear her little barks before he does, which means I’m up before AND after he’s asleep. See third bullet item above for how I feel about that.

So now I’m going to see how Murphy’s Law will affect me and get this published and go lie down. You can presume that ZGirl woke within 10 minutes.

Um….never mind. She’s up now. Later.


It was basically a tie between Summer and Shlomit as to who guessed the closest on ZGirl’s stats.

Summer guessed 7lbs 13oz and 20 inches (or 3.54kg and 51cm for my non-imperilist friends), which made her guess off by just a half an inch.

Shlomit guessed 7lbs 11oz and 20 1/2 inches (or 3.49kg and 52cm), which made her guess off by only 2 ounces.

I have Summer’s address, so Shlomit, if you want to send me yours, I’ll try to pop something in the mail before the next Spring’s thaw.

Thanks everyone for their guesses, however I have to wonder if you were paying attention to how I made reference that ZGirl’s donor must have surely been a descendent of Amazon warriors. On the other hand, I was flattered by your petite guesses of 6 lbs because then I knew you hadn’t been stumbled across pictures of me in full bloat.

By the way, today I had the staples from my surgery removed and while at the OBs I made a quick jump on the scale. Just between you and me and the world wide web, I’ve lost almost 30 lbs. That’s not bragging. That’s incredulous…water weight, much?


I honestly must confess that your comments are the only kind of baby shower anyone could ever hope for. To hear from so many that I haven’t in a while; and the self-proclaimed lurkers; and many I have stalked quietly and add that to you lovelies that willingly humour me routinely on my crappiest of days…Thank You doesn’t quite encapsulate my humble appreciation.

I promise that I’m not sitting around, baby-mooning and neglecting you. In fact, I’ve been dieing to get back on the computer but I have the most ridiculous excuse: my hands. Fortunately I’m enjoying the lovely effects of pain meds that make it tolerable. A good thing, too, because I have much to tell you, and none of it particularly interesting.

Wednesday morning as we prepared leave the house, I hugged XBoy and my mother who was going to stay with him until we called, and headed out the car. Of course, Mr. DD was gathering up things at the last minute (camera, wallet, sunglasses, etc.) and putzing around. As I sat in the car waiting for him, XBoy came out red in the face and teary. I opened the door and he practically fell into my lap. I assumed he had just hurt himself so I began the typical quizzing.

He hadn’t fallen down or smashed a finger or was denied candy by grandma (as if). Instead he was frantic for me not to go. The scene became so bad that Mr. DD had to carry him back into the house and grandma had to hold him back while we quickly backed out the garage and drove away.

It ripped my heart out of my chest…I’ll never forget that moment.

As far as any pre-op stuffity-stuff, all went fairly smooth. The only moment of tension was when the OB nurse warned me that the anesthesiologists have been adamant that the OB surgical cases come back already with a catheter inserted. She encouraged me to hold my ground and request the cath post-spinal.

Sure enough, the anesthetist’s nurse came in and tried to make me feel as if I was wasting their time by not agreeing to the cath before hand, but I didn’t give a shit. If I could get a pap with sedation, I would insist on that, too.

Jump ahead to me numbed and splayed on the OR table. Right before they allowed Mr. DD in, I began to cry. It wasn’t just the months of waiting, it was the years. All leading up to those next few minutes where I would finally meet this other child…which sounds so incredibly selfish, I realize. I felt overwhelmed and so helpless.

Mr. DD joined me and I saw the tears in his eyes as well.

I tried to memorize and file away each moment of the surgery. The anesthesiologist (who was actually very kind) narrated what was happening or what was going to happen. I remember being told that they had started the incision on the uterus and then suddenly I was told the baby’s head was out. I heard everyone exclaim over the amount of hair. I heard suctioning of nasal and oral passages. I heard the cries and suddenly someone said, “It’s a girl!”

And of course, I sobbed anew as my husband leaned over and kissed my forehead and he also cried some more.

We experienced for the first time her temperament as she went from typical newborn mewling and crying to all out banshee-like screaming. I was briefly introduced before she was handed back over to her Dad where I continued to blubber and sob (gotta love those hormones), and then I was stitched back up and taken to recovery while Mr. DD enjoyed those first precious moments.

Wednesday basically passed in a blur – strangely in slow motion – of snap shots, mental and digital, of ZGirl’s arrival.

OK, yes, maybe I have been baby-mooning just a bit. But there’s more to the past few days then these rare moments of peace. More on that later.


Just a quickie from me as I found out that the OB dept does indeed have wi-fi. Just the facts:

Born 12:47 p.m. via scheduled c-section.

7 pounds and 13 ounces

20 1/2 inches


We named her Hazel Anne: Hazel after my grandmother who died when my Mom was only three; and Anne is my Mom’s middle name and the name of one of Mr. DD’s favorite aunts who passed away a few years ago.

Here’s a picture. More later. I’m tired and my computer seems to be following suit.