A Letter to Addy: A First Year Recap

This was written back in November, about a week before Addy's birthday. Once again, I've randomly decided to share.

My Dear Addy,
    Right now you’re actually napping, which has already started to become a rarity. It’s the day before your first birthday, and I figured I should put together something to let you know how life is at this point for us. Because you sleep in the same room where my computer lives, I’m using a very old iBook to write this, which means I’m seeing a picture of you less than 24 hours old. I think that’s probably a good place to start, with your birth.

Your original due date was November 7. That day came and went, and even the doctors couldn’t believe I was still pregnant. It was very obvious that you were dropped low and ready to come out, you just weren’t. I had an appointment for a nonstress test on November 14, just to make sure all systems were still functioning properly since I was a week overdue. They checked your heartrate, my blood pressure, and did an ultrasound to make sure everything inside was still good. I was supposed to have that test that morning, go to my regular OB the next day, and we had an induction scheduled for that Friday night. If you’re keeping track, that would’ve made me nearly 42 weeks pregnant when you were finally born. Luckily, it didn’t go that way.

The ultrasound technician gave the all clear signal, and estrimated that your size was around 8.5 lbs. The problem was that they had to essentially scare you into moving around, and my blood pressure couldn’t make up it’s mind what it wanted to do. They decided to go ahead and check me in and start the induction that day instead of that Friday night.

The very long, very boring process started at noon. I’ll save you most of the boring details, and let you know that it involved lots of waiting, and lots of boredom. Every time they checked me, they could tell we were progressing, although slowly. Around 12:30am, my water broke all on its own. It was the strangest feeling I’d ever experienced. It still is, come to think of it. About 2 hours later, the contractions were coming so fast and furious that I needed the epidural just to be able to breathe. It was heaven to me. The worst part of all the pain was that because you were trying to get out, my hips were out of alignment. Every contraction sent a ripping pain through my hips. The epidural let me breathe again since that pain was gone. I got a few hours of sleep.

Around noon on November 15, they were getting concerned. Things had stalled out. We should’ve had a baby by then. I was really afraid of a c-section, so I begged for more time. They could tell you were engaged, but for some reason just couldn’t get out. At 3:30pm, they told me there was no other option, that I needed surgery. I signed the forms. At 4:28pm on Tuesday, November 15, 2011, you were born via cesarean section. It took 3 people to dislodge you. The first words the surgeon said to us was “There was no way she was being born naturally.” You weighed 9 pounds 14 ounces, and were 21.8 inches long, which, for the record, is the size of an average 2 month old.

You were extremely observant right from the start. You were always bright-eyed, watching the world around you. At one week old, the doctor even commented on it.

The first two weeks of your life were hell. You’d shriek from midnight to five am, no matter what we did. We’d try feeding you, changing you, rocking you...it didn’t matter. You’d just shriek. After that, though, it got better. You’d wake up after about 4 hours to eat, then go peacefully back to sleep. At six weeks old, you’d sleep 8 full hours! We were extremely blessed! Since that day, you’ve only woken up in the night a handful of times, and usually from teething pain. That is one thing we are very, very fortunate to experience. We never had to sleep train, and even if you were a nightmare of fussing and attitude during the day, you’d sleep at night.

Every day, you change. You learn something new. By 3 months old you could hold your head up off the floor while laying on your tummy. At 5 months old, you were able to sit unassisted. Shortly after that, you started rolling and crawling. Now, at (almost) a year old, you can stand up on your own, but as of today you still aren’t walking without holding on to the couch. You’re faster while crawling, and that seems to make you happy for now.

Your first tooth popped in just before you turned 6 months old, with the 2nd one joining less than 2 weeks later. The top 4 central teeth all came through at the same time somewhere around 8 months old. Just last week your 7th tooth came in, and it looks like number 8 won’t be far behind.

You were born with copper red hair and bright blue eyes. So far, both are sticking. You looked like my clone at first, and even now you look more like me than your daddy.

You smiled for the first time at 6 weeks old, and you haven’t really stopped. You have this great facial expression that looks like you’re imitating Benito Moussolini. You like to scrunch your nose and snort a little bit when you’re excited. I taught you how to throw both arms up in the air when someone says “Touchdown!” and you have been clapping your hands all by yourself for months. You get excited, and you just clap your hands and snort. You dance, by either bouncing to the rhythm or by waving your arms, sometimes both. You prefer regular music to kids music. The first time you ever actually watched something on TV, it was Sesame Street. You stared at the TV for 10 minutes. You also watched almost half of Beauty and the Beast, and nearly the entire movie of The Nightmare Before Christmas. You are your momma’s girl. Whenever the theme song for M*A*S*H comes on, you freeze, whip your head to the TV, and stare.

For the longest time, you’d only pull the fur of the cat and dogs. Now, you pat them while giggling. You like to grab Patches, Granny’s dog, by the face so she’ll lick you. You’ve tried to lick her back more than once.

Your version of baby kisses has been to essentially bite our noses for most of your life. Once you got teeth and hurt us, you stopped doing it. Now, you’re doing it again without actually biting us. You give hugs now. You love to hug anyone that you’ve met before. You’ve started learning how to lounge, to feed yourself, and you can even climb into your own high chair while I’m getting your lunch ready.

You have an attitude already. You know what things you aren’t supposed to do, and you’ll do them anyway just to see how we’ll react.

But you’re helpful, too. You can put your arms up so we can change your shirts easier, you help put on your coat. You’ll try to wipe up the table after you eat. You put your toys away, although not always in the correct place. You like to put EVERYTHING in the ball popper. I’ve found blocks, pacifiers, magnetic rods, balls to other toys, fake eggs...anything you had that would fit.

Every single day, you become more of your own little person, and for me it’s bittersweet. I want to remember every single moment, even though I know it’s completely silly. I’m hoping by writing these letters, that I’ll remember more and you’ll be able to see what it was like from my point of view. There is one thing that will never change, no matter how much you do: I love you. You are my baby, and you always will be, even if you have a baby of your own. I never fully understood the feelings behind that before I had you, but now I do. You’ve always got me and Daddy, kiddo.

I love you!
Mommy