Hindsight, Volume 2

Alright, so we've already established that I've got to learn to tone down my crazy, germaphobe ways the next time around. What else have the past 8 months taught me about what I'll do differently? Let's see:

I will use the overnight nursery at the hospital. Okay, in my defense, I didn't just wait the usual 9 months for a baby-- I waited 2 years & 9 months. So, when that little guy finally popped out, you can imagine how reluctant I was to turn him over to anyone, including the hospital staff. But my labor started at 10pm on a Friday night. I stayed up all night long timing my contractions before I was finally admitted to the hospital at 3am on Saturday morning. And once I was in the hospital, the pain of the contractions coupled with my excitement did not make for a sleep inducing combination. I did not sleep, at all. And then, after Camden was released from the special care nursery, I couldn't imagine being separated from him any more than I had to be, and so I asked for him to room-in with Matt and me. That night? I got a total of 30 minutes of sleep. I'm not even kidding or exaggerating. Between Camden's day & night confusion and the hospital staff constantly barging into the room to check my vitals or his, there was just no time for sleep. So, yeah. Next time, I will take advantage of having an overnight babysitter. There will be plenty of time for bonding over sleepless nights at home.

I will not swaddle more than a month. Hello, my name is Kerri, and I am a swaddling addict. Don't worry-- at 8 months old, Camden is mostly swaddle free. But it was not an easy road to get to this point. It started out innocently enough: the hospital swaddled Camden in that cozy newborn blanket and I continued with that blanket once we got home. See?
But he quickly outgrew that blanket and so I switched to the velcro swaddling wraps. Soon he was busting out of those in the middle of the night. Instead of taking that as a blatantly obvious sign that he was done being swaddled, I decided to purchase the ultimate swaddling mechanism-- the Miracle Blanket. And so my poor child became accustomed to having his arms pinned down while sleeping and then whenever I tried to "wean" him from the swaddle, he'd look at me like I was insane. Woman, what are these limbs doing flailing around?! Don't you know they're supposed to be strapped down so I can get some sleep? Swaddling, I hate you very much.

I will pack away the parenting books. Okay, I'm going to give myself a break here-- I don't think it's bad for a first-time parent to study up. Quite honestly, I had no idea how often to nurse, or when to feed a baby solids, or how many naps a 6 month old should take during the day. But these books should only be used as a guide, not the be-all, end-all Bible of parenting that most of them claim to be. As mothers, we have instincts for a reason.

I will not compare my child to other children. Motherhood can create unique bonds between women that might not exist otherwise. But it can also lead to an annoying desire to compare, and thus, compete. I'll admit- I got caught up in the Compare Game when Camden was a few months old and it was becoming obvious that he was allergic to sleeping through the night. I'd read mommy message boards and see the boasting posts "Little Joshua slept for 25 hours yesterday!" Okay, I might be exaggerating a tiny bit, but you get the point. Then when Camden would wake up for the eighth time that night, I'd be close to tears-- not because I was truly bothered by his night waking, but because I'd feel like his night waking was abnormal & that I must be doing something wrong as a parent since other people's babies sleep through the night. And then one day, I just got over it. As long as Camden's happy and healthy, then I am doing my job as his mom. And those braggy people are just irritating anyway. If your awesome daughter never cries, walks when she is 6 months old, starts reading at one year old, changes her own diaper, and sleeps like a dream--- good for you! But I have a feeling you're going to have a hellion on your hands when her teenage years roll around.

I will realize that everything is a passing phase. Don't get me wrong-- after going through infertility, I really do try to appreciate every single moment of this whole parenting thing and I think I do that remarkably well. But there were plenty of times along the way that I got anxious about things that, in hindsight, were just a phase. Next time around, I will know that the early "survival mode" days don't last forever. I'll understand that my body will heal & feel normal again (well, relatively normal anyway). If I choose to breastfeed again, I'll know that bleeding nipples get better and that latching goes from a complicated and frustrating ordeal to a natural act that takes a split second-- all in time. I'll know that the sleepless nights eventually end (right?!) and that I won't always be covered in spit up. I'll know that the cries and whines of the earliest days will soon be replaced by gummy smiles and squeals of laughter. And I'll know that it all happens way too fast.