It’s been seven weeks since Maxine was born. That means that there have been seven weeks of waking up at ungodly times during the night to nurse, soothe, diaper, and rock my baby. But during those night episodes, I have had time to reflect on this new phase of wonderful craziness called parenting. These musings will not be epiphanic to veteran parents and I admit, maybe (and by maybe, I mean yes), I did read about some of this prior to Maxine’s arrival, but I would like to reiterate certain aspects of labor/delivery and postpartum that need to be emphasized.

First, let me preface this post by stating that I read A LOT of books during my gestation – everything from the iconic What to Expect (two different ones actually) to books on natural childbirth to breastfeeding. Even with all the reading, there are some things that had to be learned by experience. And there are some things that all my readings couldn’t prepare me for and that I did not expect. Here are some of those:

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: LABOR PAINS

Holy crap – see, I expected them to be painful but wow, were they ever so excruciating. I’ve had people tell me honestly that labor was the most difficult (but rewarding) thing they’ve ever experienced. The pain is really indescribable, which is why no one has been really able to articulate what the pain really feels like. I think the best sensory analogy I can think of is when William Wallace (Mel Gibson) in Braveheart is getting disemboweled.

I imagine my face looked even more wretched with each contraction. Jeremiah told me that I blacked out a few times and there were times when I would just have a blank stare – I think that was my body’s way of blocking out the immensity of it all. It is, hands down, the most painful (but rewarding) experience I have ever experienced. I too should’ve yelled out “FREEDOM!” when Maxine emerged.

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION

I don’t think what I experienced what depression per se – I know that postpartum depression has a spectrum of symptoms from moodiness to more serious conditions like thoughts of hurting your baby. All I can say is your hormones really f*ck you up. I never had the more grave symptoms, but I was weepy and could not stop crying for the first week. Everything and anything would send a surge of tears streaming down my face. Just looking at Maxine would require at least two tissues. Seeing Jeremiah holding her required three. When Maxine had to have blood drawn, I was a hot mess – let’s just say that I used up the whole box of tissues in the doctor’s office. To make things worse, my mom, who stayed with us for ten days to help out, shared the most SADDEST stories EVER – like how her mother died when she was three from giving birth, how she had to spend the night alone in the hospital when I was born because my dad had to work, how she had to go to work right after my brother was born…AND, she would always tell these stories as we were eating too – needless to say, my food was marinated with tears and snot. And then, as if my eyes weren’t puffy enough, my thoughts wandered to horrific realities – I thought about babies in the world who are neglected, beaten, abused, molested, killed – and I would just weep and weep. As I would watch and adore Maxine, I would think who could ever do such an evil act towards such a precious entity? It’s amazing how your hormones will mess with you – imagine PMS on steroids. So, don’t judge me about thinking about babies getting murdered. I’m just relieved that part of the postpartum process is done with.

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: NEWBORN SLEEP

I must’ve read somewhere that for the first few days of life, newborns sleep for the majority of the day. So, as we were in the hospital and Max slept peacefully the entire time, I thought, Hey, I don’t know why everyone would say ‘Get your sleep now,’ because I’m getting plenty of rest. HAHAHAHAHAHA. What a fool I was. It’s as if the higher ups granted new parents a couple days of rest and recuperation from labor and delivery and just when you think it’s manageable, they maliciously slap you with the harsh reality that you will NOT sleep that many consecutive hours for the next couple months. Pure deception. Since we’ve been home, I have done a complete 180 degrees of being a morning person to being a 2am – 6am nursing marathoner. Luckily, at seven weeks, she’s sleeping 3-4 hours, only to wake for feedings.

Not only that, but getting a baby to fall asleep is this complex formula of physical endurance, mental stamina and just random luck. Let me explain. After five and a half weeks, I discovered that Max will fall asleep while nursing about 50% of the time – that’s the random luck part. The other 50% of the time, I am required to concoct an environment to induce sleep – that is where the physical endurance comes in. Babies like to be rocked and lulled to sleep – that usually requires you holding them in a certain position for anywhere from a few minutes to a couple hours. When that glorious moment sets in where her eyes are closed and she’s asleep, you have to hold that position for at least twenty minutes – and you don’t even want to breathe so as not to disturb the air around her and risk waking her up. This part requires mental stamina because when it’s 3:34 a.m. and you are working towards that twenty minute minimum of being frozen in your position, you can’t exactly watch TV or read a book – you just stare at her and your surroundings, waiting for that clock to relieve you – it’ll be the longest twenty minutes EVER. This kind of reminds me of that scene in Mission Impossible where Tom Cruise is suspended from a cable with only a couple inches from the floor which would detonate an alarm/bomb (?) if it detected contact. If he made one clumsy, unintentional move, KABOOM. And just like that, you unintentionally move your arm to scratch your nose while baby is almost asleep, and you’re back at square one. I have learned the hard way – it is better to have a numb arm and sore back and a sleeping baby than to enjoy a few extra minutes of relief and have an alert baby.

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: FLYING POOP THAT YOU OBSESS OVER

Okay, I have heard of babies having explosive poop, but I always imagined that it was CONTAINED in the diaper and you witness the aftermath of the explosion when you go in for a diaper change. I did not know that poop can fly. Its projectile is actually quite impressive. I think Max’s longest distance is about 18 inches, in which she managed to stain the white wall and everything in its path. FAIL.

It only took one time for me and Jeremiah to learn that you NEVER remove the dirty diaper unless you have the fresh one ready. But even if you are armed with the clean diaper, you could tragically be pointing your baby’s anus in the wrong direction at the wrong time. And I swear, it must be something about the open air or maybe the stimulation of the diaper wipe, but there have been times where as soon as I slip the new diaper under her tush, she dirties it. There have been several times where we went through two, three, and even four clean diapers in a matter of minutes.

The other thing I never knew about poop is that as a new parent, you are obsessive compulsive about the color and texture of your baby’s poop. At least, I want to think that there are others who also are. With each diaper change, I’m anxious about what I’ll find. I’ve lost sleep over the wrong color and texture of poop. I’ve Googled at least fifty different poop questions and concerns. I’ve put my face inches away from a dirty diaper to examine its contents. And when it’s not what I hoped to see, I get dismayed and discouraged. Who knew poop would have such a power over me? I certainly did not expect that.

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: AVERAGE IS ACTUALLY PRETTY AWESOME

I’ve seen numerous Asian parodies where a child brings home an “A” on his report card and his parent is disappointed that it is not an “A+.” For an infant, the words “average,” “normal” and “typical” have resonated as beautiful descriptors of progress. At her one month check-up, when we found out her weight was in the 51st percentile, I rejoiced. When the lactation consultant mentioned that her weight gain of one ounce per day was average, I was ecstatic. And when her pediatrician assured me that the little bumps on her arm were normal, I could breathe again. There is something about being right there in the middle or being typical as an infant that comforts me – knowing that her statistics are the median just assures me that she is fine. While I do see myself possibly turning into a Tiger Mom and wanting Maxine to excel in EVERYTHING when she is older :-), for now, she’s just perfect – perfectly normal.

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: HYPOCHONDRIA X 10^5

I’m naturally a hypochondriac and can be a little obsessive compulsive (i.e. previous post about cleaning the toilet plunger during a nesting episode). Having a baby exacerbates my disorder of needing everything disinfected, sanitized and sterile. Now, I know that babies need some germs – it’s good for them in the long run to fight off infections in the future. So, I try my best to tame my maniacal habits, but seriously, I can’t help but think that EVERYTHING poses a threat to my baby. Someone ten feet away sneezes and suddenly it’s like my brain is flashing “Code Red! Code Red!” One time I slapped Jeremiah’s hand away as he was trying to touch Maxine and snapped, “Wash your hands!” I can’t help it – like I said, I have problems. But, I have not checked myself into a clinic yet because in my opinion, there are some positive signs that my condition is resolving: 1) I have let many others hold her, and 2) I am sleeping at night. So there, my proof that my obsessiveness is not adversely affecting others or myself. There’s that old adage that states that as new parents, you can’t help but check your baby’s breathing every moment she is still. And I found myself to be one of those parents. It doesn’t help that her bassinet has this glaring label:

As if I need something else to make me even more psychotically worried. SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) has humanized into this Grim Reaper figure in my mind, lurking over her as she sleeps. I know one day, I will sleep through the night without leaning over to check her breathing, but for now, it is my duty to fight off the evil SIDS monster.

And lastly:

WHAT I DIDN’T EXPECT: INFINITE LOVE

I expected to love my baby, but not to the depth and extent that I do. When you first meet that being that has been growing inside you, your heart just expands infinitely. It’s an inexplicable, yet universal experience. I read about bonding, sure, but nobody told me that it feels as if your chest will burst open from the emotions of love and adoration. It’s a love that is different than the way you love your mom or spouse or friends. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t mind if your neck is permanently kinked from looking down at her as you hold her for endless hours in your arms. It’s a love that makes me lose sleep over poop. And it’s a love that makes me forget the feeling of being disemboweled as she descended out of me. It’s such an amazing and powerful emotion – and the incredible part is, this love will only grow deeper, wider, and stronger every day. Wow.