There is no time. But here is my week:
Friday: Oh, hey! We have a baby girl! She is grossly normal just as promised in her NT ultrasound so many weeks ago, though we never did catch what her Apgar Score was. (We hope it will not preclude her from getting into good schools or getting hired by Google)
Grandparents and Aunt Jennifer come to visit in the hospital. Hospital food not so bad, but really wish people were not knocking on our damn door every time we try to drift off to sleep.
Saturday: Some of the nurses got all ZOMG your baby needs to eat more, spent the entire day and night increasing our stress levels and giving us lots of harried, conflicting advice, as well as threatening that she may need formula. Saturday was the day nothing we did was good enough. still getting woken up every few minutes.
Sunday: FREE! We got out of the hospital, I was a wreck, being at home felt better than I would have thought. Normally I like hospitals, but the pressure and interruptions of the past few days had exhausted me.
Monday: By now my feet have started swelling to the size of footballs and nothing will get them to go down. It's beyond a cosmetic issue at this point, as generalized edema is interfering with breastfeeding. My mom came over to help out while Paul went back to class, because I have no idea what to do with a baby. Good thing, too, because Molly had a massive explosive diaper, followed by her first bath. I don't know how we could do this without having family nearby.
Tuesday: Our first outing! Pediatrician's first appointment. We give great though to what to put in a diaper bag, and then are immediately outed as N00b parents when the nurse asks us if we have a blanket in there. Damn!
The jaundice is gone and she has already regained her birthweight. What the hell were those nurses flipping out about in the hospital??? Dr. tries really hard but can't find anything wrong with her, so she makes something up about "epstein's pearls."
After Dr., we run to the hospital to sign something for the birth certificate. Wonder if it is OK to wander back into the Maternity ward without our receipt, a little like bringing merchandise back to the store where it came from, and not having the receipt. Will they think I stole it?
Outing successful, no breakdowns. Mom comes over again when Paul goes to class. Molly acts like an angel, then spend the entire night fussing and crying. No one is getting any sleep at night.
Wednesday: We go to Target to pick up a bunch of stuff. I have "a moment" when we get out of the car, and I find myself pushing a baby stroller for probably the first time in my life. Whoa.
My mom came over while Paul went to class and did the best thing ever: sent me to nap while she watched Molly. Much needed sleep, as the previous night's hell had taken a huge toll on my energy and emotional state.
Thursday: My mom did not come over while Paul had class, and I survived.
Friday: Molly is one week old! She's terrifically advanced for her age. She has already managed to go through all of the cloth diapers within 24 hours, so we end up having to make a trip to Tiny Tots to buy some more cloth diapers. The outing is again successful (she's always so good when other people are watching) and later Paul's mom comes over to give her some much-needed Grandma love.
I am completely falling apart by this point, as she once again didn't sleep at all the night before, and I am apparently having physical "issues" with recovery. Nurse set up an appointment for me to come in Saturday morning to check it out. Not healing properly is making it difficult for me to get things done at home, and making me more morose.
Paul was a saint and did a massive amount of work, then essentially stayed up all night with Molly so I could sleep at the other end of the house. It was awesome. But I feel guilty about it.
We ran into the incredibly nice neighbor on our way to the diaper run, and chatted with her a bit about how she got through the first few weeks with her little one. Then, around 9-something, she came by with cookies she baked for us! How nice is that?!?!?
Today: So far, I have combed my hair thoroughly for the first time since I went to the hospital! It's just about time to wake up Paul so we can go to the Dr., and then? Come home and keep repeating the cycle: Feed, burp, diaper, repeat. Notice there is no sleep in there.
My mother and my sister have been bringing me food for the freezer all week, and generally helping out. (my favorite is offering to let us sleep whilst taking care of Molly) I have no idea how we would do this without the family we have nearby to help us!