A Feeder and a Grower

Well, we can do pigtails now.

I probably could have done this to her hair before now even.  Shoot, she wasn't too far off from pig tails at birth.

Gah, it's so hard to believe that this is even the same baby.  The top pic is from today, and she's basically nine months now.  The next pic is when she was probably just a couple weeks old.  All that separates these is about 8.5 months.  She's more than quadrupled her birth weight (3.9lbs), and she's just SO different.  Also, I do believe that I have cycled back around to where the little baby pictures make me cry again.  She was just so small and skinny.  Broke my heart.  That's actually a decent segue to the next part of her birth story:

If you'll recall I had Maddie at 5pm on a Sunday evening.  After she was taken to the NICU, I didn't see her again that day.  The next morning I was groggy from post-surgery sleep (though I never got any of the good American post-op drugs).  I don't remember breakfast or anything else until my little nurses appeared late morning.  I just remember that they showed up with shower supplies - towels, soap, etc and motioned toward the bathroom, meaning I was going to get up and take a shower.  I remember realizing what they were telling me and told them "Noooo."  And they told me "Siiiiii."  It was surreal.  I did not want to deal with...perhaps more than just the stitches holding my guts in.  But I got out of bed with their help and shuffled into the bathroom where I stood in a shower as my two little nurses bathed me.

I remember how I didn't want to look down at my belly (where my baby was still supposed to be) and I didn't want to see the stitches.  I stood there, weak and a mess, and let these girls wash me.  They were very gentle.  We didn't speak the same language, but there seemed to be an unspoken understanding...that I'd just been through something horrific, and that they were the ones that were gently getting me up and in a forward direction.  Damn it.  The words are not coming out right.  I can't explain.  Because of course they were taking care of me; they were my nurses.  It was something more than that, though.  I'll never forget it.  They were very nice to me, and I, not used to being quite so vulnerable, deeply needed and appreciated their care. 

At some point after the shower, I went down to the NICU to see Maddie.  Honestly, I was half dreading it.  On the one hand, I felt guilty that I had not seen her since the day before, and yet on the other hand, I didn't want to see her because I felt so guilty that she was premature.  I did not want to see her all hooked up to machines.  But I did.  And it was about as hard to see her as I'd imagined.  I stood over her and cried as I touched her tiny body.  I didn't know what to say to her, and it still felt weird telling her that I loved her, even though if she hadn't made it, I probably would have died.  A lot of confusion and confliction.  Grateful that she was alive, yet so, so guilty that I could not have taken care of her better.  Instead, she had to have machines do what my body could not.  Sigh. 

I'll write more about our post-birth week in Mexico later.  For now, though, I'll return to my original point: babies grow so fast, even the tiny ones.  I do better now to take Maddie in as we're playing together.  I think that's easier to do when they get older and have more personality...and do more than sleep, cry, eat, poop.  You can get lost in that.  But when they're a little older, you can be in the moment a bit more.  Ironically, it's that pause that gives you time to reflect back on how much things have changed.  Lately, I have frequently cupped Maddie's sweet face in my hands and told her that she's never going to be a tiny baby again, followed immediately by a peppering of kisses.  Of course she just gives me a big wrinkle-nosed smile and keeps playing with her toys.  We just want them to grow so quickly and meet (conquer!) their milestones, and in Maddie's case she really needed to, as she was behind and at an unhealthy weight.  Now, though, I'm cool if we just hang for a bit.  It has gone by so quickly.  Too quickly.  I desperately love this child, and I want her to be my sweet baby for as long as possible.