Postpartum Irrationality

We were ready for a slight after-birth depression (and by we I mean Skip who read the warning signs on the water jug the hospital gave me), but we were not prepared for mind games those hormones played. After my mom left, Pippa and I spent an entire day bumming around. I sat in the rocking chair and Pippa relaxed in my arms. That's when I noticed that at 10 days my little girl was barely even a baby.

At one week

An upsetting thought for a new mom. I was devastated. And annoyed that we never finished Pippa's newborn photos. I had visions of her in a brightly colored tutu, holding her dad's fishing pole, draped across deer antlers, curled up on my fox fur scarf. Grandma and I did one test outfit and that was it. Those photos are wonderful but I never insisted on doing more. I told myself the light wasn't good enough. Dark skies would not showcase Pippa's beauty. But really I just wanted to cuddle her because by the time she had turned a whooping 15 days old I was tearing up at the thought of sending her to kindergarten.

At three weeks, already more mature

Then she was in high heels, wanting to go to prom, and by the time I thought about sending her to college Skip noticed my quiet sobs. He tried to tell me it was all going to work out. He offered to take Pippa so I could take a nap. As he moved in to steal my precious moments from my Pippa time I snarled at him and clenched my baby closer to my chest. Really I was worried about her leaving me and his solution to take her away rubbed me raw.

I'm still a little worried that she's growing too fast but what can I expect from an eight pound baby who looked like a toddler when she was born. Now it's back to holding her, she might be crawling tomorrow.

Fashionably Late

Little Miss Pippa came a week later than expected, but a day before we planned to kick her out of her cozy nest. I can't imagine where she'd get that kind of procrastination. Did I mention she was born two weeks ago and I'm just now writing this? Not because I haven't thought about it or had grandparents and aunts willing to snuggle her while I wrote.

So far she has been a delight. I think it is to make up for the agonizingly long labor. We both remember it all too well. Sometimes I find Pippa shuddering and whimpering in her sleep. Wouldn't you if your head had been trapped under a bone for 3.5 hours? It warrants extra loves and hugs, and we are happy to give them.