Sometimes, there's just not enough bottles....


      No really, I'm not kidding. Bottles got washed, used and washed several times a day. Might I add that we had too many to count? No? Too bad. We had too many bottles to count. No to mention countless spare parts for the darned things. Nipples, funnels and those weird tan things. If you are wondering we chose to use Dr.Brown brand bottles. Yes, the obnoxiously expensive bottles you see celebrity moms using. We'd tried to use other brands only to meet complete defiance from our little one. She was stuck on those bottles. Just stuck. Family and friends would buy her other bottles (without asking us what kind she used) and they pretty much went unused. Word of the wise, don't buy the most expensive fancy smancy bottles. It's a waste, a complete and total waste. Also, no matter how much you wash and sterilize them, they will never stop smelling like sour milk. I tried all the "solutions" to that problem. Nothing worked. So don't bother!

Here's some pictures of her being bottle addicted! Hoorah!

After the first five months I was starting to think that I could do this. She ate well, she slept through the night like a champ, she was starting to actually like tummy time and well she just seemed happy. 

That's when the problems started....

TWO WORDS 

Plagiocephaly

and

Torticollis

These are two words I dreaded and also words I had never heard before! In non-doctor speak, this meant that she had a flat spot on one side of the back of her head (due to the constant pressure caused by...) her neck being crooked. Torticollis, aka she was diagonally down in the womb causing her neck muscles to weaken on one side. Here's what I mean....

No, she's not like an intrigued dog tilting her head. She just can't keep it straight up...at all. Her world was sideways so to speak. Our pediatrician had pointed it out once and then all hell broke loose. She was seeing orthopedic specialists and going to physical therapy. Every single person that looked at her asked us about it or tried to straighten her out with some sort of blanket to prop her neck up. IT DROVE US NUTS! Then it was determined that it was so bad that she had to wear a helmet...yes a helmet. Also known as, a cranial remolding helmet. It's a orthotic that helps to reshape her skull. It pissed her off, it made us cranky and vice versa. Plus people would stare....that was the worst. The staring. And the people that thought it was a bicycle helmet. Then there were a very select few that knew what it was and shared their own stories and experiences with it. 

The helmet wearing went on for about 5 months. She learned to take it off after about two days of having it. Which apparently makes her some kind of Houdini baby. Everyone told us that they had never heard of a baby being able to take one off. To us it was irritating and kind of funny, everyone else thought it was miraculous. But whatever, the point is she barely wore the thing and 750 dollars later it barely did any good. But it was pretty darn cute! Now it sits in her closet on the top shelf gathering dust. 

The Early Months

So it begins...

It's late in the evening in Nevada and I am awakening from the drugs of a c-section. I couldn't bare to stay awake during the surgery, the pressure and odd smells were too much for me. Not to mention the goofy look my husband's face as he watches them cut me open. I look around the small room and find no one I recognize, just some weird nurse hovering over me asking me what my name is and what high school I graduated from. I can barely find the words to answer her and barely mutter "Oogie" (my husband's petname). The poor fool just stared at me and continued to pester me with nonsensical questions. "Do you know where you are?" Well duh, I'm obviously in some torture chamber where they slice you open and snatch your unborn child from it's safe womb. Finally, here comes Andrew my husband and omg...no not her, my mother in law walks in smiling ear to ear. I know then, that I'm in for getting my ear talked off. Where is my baby, is the only thing I can muster to say through the fog. 

Well, it turns out that my daughter Annabella was in the other room being poked, prodded, and tested. The hospital was very thorough. Sad thing, it turns out she had jaundice. I wasn't surprised considering I had it when I was born as did her father.  But when that nurse walked into the room I expected to have that moment every new mom talks about, when nothing else in the world matters. That moment when you know things are meant to be and the one thing you want in the world is in your arms. Yeah... well that didn't happen. I internally panicked and started thinking, I'M SO YOUNG! HOW I AM GOING TO DO THIS!!!! Yes, mental fail there on my part but what do you expect, I was 18. Now I'm not going to berate young mothers and the whole "16 and Pregnant" shenanigans, but I knew that my decision to get pregnant with my fiancee was a "extremely spur of the moment" situation. The full reality of that choice we made was right there, in my arms. Crying. -.- She cried almost immediately when the nurse handed her to me. This, not that I knew it at the time, was just the beginning of her antics against me. Oh? Babies can't be mean to people? I laugh at the notion. Since the moment I first felt her move I knew it was going to be a long 18 years. Every time during the pregnancy I got mad at her daddy, she barraged me with kicks to my vital parts. As Juno MacGuff once said "Get your foot out of my rib cage pal, that's aggravated assault!" I think the Juno reference describes quite nicely the many moments of sheer pain she put me through. Just to sum it up: Mommy- 0 Annabella- ∞  

Anyways, back to the hospital jibber jabber. So they hand her to me and instantly she is back to daddy. Big. Shocker. I'm going to go all 90's and say NOT! 

Now for some time travel!

Four days later, they let us go home. Home, meaning my mother's rented house. We get home, baby is happy, sleeping and adorable. Five minutes later. 

The massacre of dirty diapers, screaming and sleepless night begin. Oh how we miss those nice nurses now! For all you pregnant ladies out there, here's some word of the wise. Enjoy and indulge in those nurses at the hospital. Just relax and let those nurses do their job. Focus on getting yourself ready to go home with that new little bundle of joy. Once you are home, you are on your own honey! They may seem intrusive and nosey but just let them do whatever. Another tip, take allll the things you can from that hospital. Diapers, wipes, lotion, powder. Those weird socks with slip grips on both sides, oh and those huge giant pads they give you. Free stuff is free stuff, trust me they won't miss it! 

Those first weeks are the toughest, you are learning how to care for that baby and in our case, trying to get her to learn night from day! Annabella had her days and nights confused. So that meant, sleep all day and nap during the night on and off. It. Was. Hell. No sleep, for anyone. Not even Captain Snore down the hallway could sleep! The one thing that went through my mind those days were, can I just go back to doing whatever I want for a few days? Like please? Nanny? Anyone?