Well, we have another large child.
In one day, Henry logged fourteen feedings. Every hour, on the hour, throughout the morning and in the early evening. Instead of doing a normal full feeding, he would snack. An ounce here. An ounce there. Drift off to sleep just long enough for me to go through the routine of putting him down…
And then he’s awake again. And ravenously hungry. Screaming for food, as if saying, What the hell, Mom!?!?! Where’s the food!?!?!
Repeat. Over and over again. With the occasional crying fits.
Then it dawned on me.
He was going through a growth spurt.
I had forgotten how exhausting growth spurts can be.
For three days, he did this. Thank God he slept most of the nights, but during the mornings, I felt like I was clinging to the edge of sanity.
When it was all over, his newborn clothes no longer fit.
Just like that.
Good-bye newborn clothes.
And hello very developed baby. We have a three-week-old child that lifts his head, coos, and is starting to bat at things accidentally. Our daughter didn’t start doing these things until she was about two months old.
At his two-week check up, the results were in.
Two weeks ago, at birth, he was 8 pounds, 10 ounces and 21 inches long.
Now, he’s 10 pounds, 3 ounces and 22.5 inches long.
If there’s one thing Doug and I know how to do, it’s make a big child.
Quick notes on Postpartum Recovery
I’m completely off the 800 mg of Motrin.
I am walking about two miles a day now in about 45 minutes. It doesn’t feel like too much and it’s a great postpartum workout to start getting my cardio endurance back. My FitBit is registering it as a 450 calorie workout, which in my peak condition is equivalent to a strenuous cardio kickboxing workout.
I am sleeping about five to six hours per day on the weekdays. About seven and a half hours on the weekend when Doug does the night feedings.
I’m down 17 pounds now. 28 pounds to go.
When I look at my body in the mirror, I feel like I’m one of those hybrid animals in Greek mythology. The top half of me resembles my pre-pregnancy self. The bottom half… not so much.
I am pear-shaped. And I’m never pear-shaped. (I tend to put on weight in my waist.) I have a distinct desire to find the invisible zipper where I can unzip and step out of this bottom-heavy suit.
My appetite is much lower this week. I’m no longer eating two breakfasts and having huge snacks between meals. My only concern is that I hope that my thyroid isn’t swinging underactive.
My new mom hormones are calming down. I’m now able to fall back asleep pretty quickly after the night feedings. Yesterday, I was even able to be okay with Henry sleeping in his crib in his room while I slept in my own room. (Sorry American Academy of Pediatrics. We’ll do the back sleeping on a firm surface and we won’t do bed-sharing. But there’s no way we’ll make it six months or a year with a baby sleeping in our room.)
I would love to be wearing normal pants, but I think I have at least two more weeks of maternity pants.
Nearly all of my swelling from the pushing phase is gone.
I got my hair cut and dyed. Win.
Pictures from the Week 3