Since having Sun, we have ventured out for a quick meal here and there, but no cuisine to note. Most of what we’ve eaten have been casseroles made by relatives. Don’t get me wrong–I love a good casserole! But I’ve been hungering for something more. And today I saw my opportunity and went for it.

I have been working on getting back into my non-maternity clothes since the day I got out of the hospital and could no longer where pajamas 24/7. My love affair with my “outside pajamas” has come to an abrupt end. And today I picked up all of my Angie-wear (the copious amounts of maternity clothes loaned to me by my friend Angie) from the dry cleaners to get them ready to be returned to Angie.

And since I was so close to Nor-Joe’s, I could not resist stopping for some truly good eats. I ordered one hot muffelatta that CS and I shared for lunch (although between the two of us, we barely got through half–which means we have half to go!); then I picked up some of their frozen homemade Italian dishes: tri-colored cheese tortellini, marinara sauce, and meatballs with sauce; and to finish it off I grabbed some angel hair pasta to go with the meatballs, prosciutto chubs for the next pot of beans we make, and Jordan almonds and Italian fig cookies for dessert. The cookies were on the counter and were an impulse purchase. Who knew they’d be the freshest fig cookies I’ve ever bought?

And although it appears that I splurged (and I did!), I spent more on the dry cleaning than I did on the food. Seriously; my dry cleaner is WAY expensive. In any event, it is nice to have true culinary tempters back in the house!

Tomorrow marks the three week mark–Sun will be three weeks old and still two weeks from her due date. Today was the day scheduled for her delivery. So happy shouldabeen birthday, Sun! Her real birthday seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago combined. I think a lot of that has to do with my lack of sleep. She now weighs 5 lbs, 4.3 oz!! She is starting to stay awake longer and be more alert when she is awake. It’s nice to have some interaction with her.

But she’s still not nursing. She and I went to a lactation nurse again this week to get some “hands on” help. And again we were told that there is no doubt Sun WILL nurse, but that she’s just still too small. So they are telling me to be patient and give it another couple of weeks–get her to her due date and then see how she is.

So the breast wars wage on. I pump, and when I am not pumping, I am leaking or chafing or engorging. I’d like to say that my life is orbiting around a three-week old, but instead, it is orbiting around a breast pump. A hospital grade, electric, super-quiet, double breast pump. A pump that I hate. A pump that still causes my wrists to hurt holding the horns in place.

I hate to wish Sun’s early days over. However, I will be very glad when we switch to the next phase of Sun’s eating habits and I can reduce my time with the pump.

CS tells me he reads my blog at his 3am feedings of Sun, and that it irritates him that I haven’t posted in days. I explain that if I post now, it will just be about my breasts. Of course, he was all, “WOHOO!” If he can’t play with them, I guess he likes to read about them.

Thus, this post is dedicated to my devoted Captain Sarcastic. CS, please try to be quiet when you come back to bed after those 3am feedings.

Today we ventured to my office. I was surprised to realize I missed it. I am nowhere ready to return, but it felt nice to go for a visit. Sun needed a diaper change while we were there, so I pulled out the extension of my desk for CS to change her. It seems every time I change her, I do it five minutes too soon. So I asked CS if he was sure she was ready; he assured me she was. As he was wiping her, she pooped again–and since CS was holding her by the feet such that her butt was off the desk, her poop went shooting across the room–it must have traveled three feet! Once THAT was done, CS and I burst out laughing. But Sun was not done. Next, she started to pee. But instead of it going to the back, it went straight up–like a cherub fountain. Oh, the laughter could be heard all through the halls.

I wiped and wiped the carpet but now have a nice orangy stain to remind me of Sun’s first day at my office. I guess she told me just what she thinks of me returning to work!

Anticipating how having a baby would change my world was really hard to do. In truth, I could only be so prepared for the change that was about to occur in my life. Now that I have been a mother for all of two weeks, I already “get it.” The earth did shake that Saturday morning for me.

But the thing that has most surprised me is the thing that has not changed: the core being of who I am. I am still the same person I was before. Mind blowing, huh? But seriously. There have been moments in my life when I have felt a change in my being occur–like a piece falling into a puzzle that once in place caused me to act differently, nay, to be different. And I just knew that becoming a mother would without doubt be one of those experiences. And I am forever changed, but not in the way of altering my core the way past experiences have.

Rather, for me, it’s as though becoming a mother has just made use of all those experiences I’ve had in the past. All that testing of my mettle finally has a meaning that is bigger than me. It all led to this experience in my life. All my previous heartaches, mistakes, struggles, growths, loves were to prepare me to be a mother. I am still all I was before Sun tiptoed into my world, but I am stronger now drawing on all of those experiences, stronger because of and for her, not me.

Having a small baby has its benefits. My wedding and engagement rings fit again and I even was able to fit into a pair of non-maternity pants today. These pants are usually a tad too big for me and today they were tight, but I got them to zip up and I actually wore them out of the house!! It gives me hope that I may actually one day return to my pre-pregnancy clothes.

Today was also the day I decided that my bedsheets had to be washed. We put clean sheets on the bed on Monday and I promptly spilled breast milk all over them (who knew pumping required such skill?!). After three days, I’d had enough. Pre-pregnancy, the sheets would have been cleaned the day of the spill; now, I have learned it will take three days for me to work up the energy to clean them. Good to know. And a shower? Yep; three days there too. Apparently I have some three-day cleanliness thing that I did not know about until I became a new mother.

And finally, today is the day that Sun started to smile even when she wasn’t taking a poop.

Here’s a picture of Sun taken at the hospital with the gavage tube still in place.

Everyday, she becomes more and more just Sun and less what CS and I see of each other in her.

Sun and I left the hospital yesterday and are happy to be home. The hospital staff was very helpful, but every five minutes someone was knocking on the door–between my nurse, the nursery nurse, the nurses’ aides, the lactation specialists, housekeeping–it was grand central station. At least my home is quiet. And I get to see my animals.

Sun is doing very well–she ended up on a gavage (feeding) tube for just two days. Now she has a red mark on her face from the tape. Other than that, she is just fine. Damned adorable. She’s passed all the tests they’ve put her through. Strong little bugger, she is!

She isn’t technically a preemie (because she was born in the 35th week), but she is “early.” To her, she should still be in the womb, and she is still doing that which she’d do if she were. She sleeps all the time. Never cries. Eats well but isn’t nursing. The sleeping and no crying are very nice (we are told that should last for another two weeks or so). And the eating well thing is good, too. She’s only lost three ounces since being born.

But the no nursing thing is really a drain. I won’t scare off Pete (and other delicate readers) with too many details, but the situation is such that I am pumping every two hours and she is eating every three hours. Oh, the joys of early nursing. Yet another pregnancy-related topic that I had no idea about–and had I known the full truth, I’d have run for the hills. See how they trick you into compliance with the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy?

For those of you who’ve been where I am, here are a few words you may be glad you no longer have in your vocabulary: breast pumps, shields, shells, horns or flanges, nursing bras and pads, chaffing, cracking, lanolin, self expression (no, I don’t mean being articulate or poetic). Oh, and my favorite, engorgement. I can look back and laugh (almost) at this point since the engorgement phase is behind me, but MAN do they not prepare new nursing mothers for this!

And because Sun can’t nurse yet, every meal she gets is pumped by me. That’s a lot of pumping. The lactation aide said that we are doing the work as if we were feeding triplets. There is some consolation in being told that.

So that’s my days (and nights) right now, hours divided up into one of three activities: pumping, feeding the baby, sleeping. Occasionally, I snag a shower and a bite to eat and even 15 minutes to blog.

Motherhood, I have arrived.

As it turns out, thirty minutes after my last post, my water broke! No contractions leading up to it; nothing. So I woke CS up and we grabbed what we could think of and went to the hospital. They hooked me up to the monitor and determined that I was having mild contractions and that Sun was doing just fine. So they scheduled my c-section for the morning. That meant four hours of waiting. CS managed to nap and somehow those four hours flew by.

Then at 5:45am this morning, I met with my OB and the anesthesiologist. We arranged for the spinal anesthesia for the c-section (she was still breech and her neck was still of concern enough not to risk a vaginal delivery).

My c-section went very smoothly with no complications. Nonetheless, the surgery was the scariest thing I’ve ever endured in my life. Ever. I had the shivers for the full thirty minutes from fear and cold. CS had planned on viewing the delivery on the other side of the screen but saw the haggard look in my eyes and stayed with me behind the screen. He was a very good coach. And that is good, since the doula we had arranged to be with us was out of town and unable to attend the birth.

And at 6:13 this morning, I heard Sun cry for the first time. And I cried, too. She was whisked pretty quickly to the nursery to have her lungs checked since she was on the cusp of prematurity. CS did hold her and got pictures of her before he followed her to the nursery. I did get to see her but did not touch her until some five hours later. But during those many hours, I was still in such a state of shock that even my delay in holding her did not upset me.

I have been nauseous all day and on an all-liquid diet. But I’ve had very little pain from the incision. But enough about me.

Sun is very healthy! Her lungs are fine, and she’s doing really well. She weighed 4 pounds, 13 ounces and measured in at 18 inches long. And her HAIR!!! Blond and plentiful. She looks like her daddy and is just beautiful. The only hiccup we are having is that because she is so little, she is having a bit of difficulty with sucking. Nursing isn’t coming yet–my class to learn what to do is next week. She’s having problems latching on, and I’m not yet producing milk. And she’s not yet taking to the bottle either. So as of now, she has the tiniest tube through her nose that is feeding her. They don’t expect this to go beyond a day or so.

CS and I both fell instantly in love with her. I am so relieved everything worked out. I get to use another word I rarely use: euphoric. We are utterly euphoric. She’s already the light of my life.

It started with my wedding ring. It stopped fitting about six weeks ago. At that time, I started to wear a ring usually worn on the middle finger of my right hand on the ring finger of my left hand.

Then it was my shoes. My shoe size is now an entire size larger than I usually wear. This means that only sandals and shoes that tie with laces fit me. And seeing as how I am due to have this baby in three weeks, I am too cheap to buy new shoes at this stage of the game.

So that means when I go to work, I can no longer wear dresses or suits with skirts. I work with a bunch of older men. And walking into the office in flip-flops–with my toes showing for God’s sake–is enough to send some of those men over the edge. And I am not woman enough to wear laced shoes with skirts. So that means I am all-pants at the office these days.

Now, I only have two pairs of maternity dress pants. I wore the black ones on Tuesday and was going to where the khaki ones today. CS ironed them for me (girls, find yourself a man that will iron for you–it is better than a man who cooks!). Then I slipped them on, zipped them up and went to button them. They wouldn’t button. Hmmm. Well, from my vantage point, I couldn’t see what the hold up was. So I asked CS, “Are they zipped all the way?” This was his response: “BAHHHAAAHAHAAA.” (Girls, find yourself someone who won’t laugh when you get too fat for your clothes, especially if the reason for that fat is really not fat but a baby inside you.)

So now not only is it my wedding ring and shoes, but my MATERNITY PANTS? I didn’t think it was possible to outgrow maternity pants! They fit last week. Why would they make pants for a pregnant woman that will stop fitting five weeks before her due date? Don’t they know how vulnerable she is at that stage? Are they that sick?

So it was back to the black pants. Poor folks at my office will have to endure seeing me in the same pair of pants two or three times a week for the next three weeks. Because if I won’t buy shoes that won’t fit in three weeks, I certainly won’t buy super-big maternity clothes.

Oh, and to top the morning o’ feeling fat off, the ring I’ve been wearing to replace my wedding ring? Yeah, it stopped fitting today, too.

So I am now down to three pairs of shoes that fit, one pair of work pants and no rings. It is a SAD DAY when your fat girl pants stop fitting. Indeed.

I should not admit this. But I will. I can’t find the remote control for the TV. And I hate to admit further that I was the last to touch it. It isn’t in or under the sofa; it isn’t on any of the tables; it isn’t in the bathrooms, bedrooms or kitchen or even under the cat (I’ve been fooled by that secret spot several times).

And the worst of it? I simply CANNOT watch TV, can’t even turn it on, without my remote. It’s so uncivilized! So I am certain the house will get cleaned today (as the search continues), and I will get caught up with all my blogs (it’s not on my laptop).

Maybe Captain Sarcastic hid it on purpose hoping it’d inspire me to cook. Well, now THAT’S just taking it too far.

Update: After clearing old mail and finding diaper coupons under the sofa, I dismantled the sofa cushions. And viola! The remote control has been found and captured. All is well with my world again. AND the ultrasound specialist was very pleased with my amniotic fluid levels–I’d hope so, considering I’m literally drinking a gallon of water a day–and Sun’s neck. Her neck has moved away from touching her back. Not down by her chest, but a marked improvement. And she was so cute today! She was sucking her fingers and sticking out her tongue when pushed on.