Nathanael is 24 weeks old today. 24 weeks ago right now I was probably still chillin' in the recovery room, still numb/high from my spinal. I saw Nat only very briefly in the operating room. The doctors allowed Will to carry him over to me so that I could kiss his perfect face. I remember he was crying when Will brought him over, and, in my anesthetized state, whispered, "Hi Nathanael. I'm your mama." And he stopped crying. And it was true love from there. Then they whisked him away to do the new baby stuff, and I saw him about an hour later in recovery after I was finished getting my guts put back in place. I attempted to nurse him and succeeded on the first try, but they took him away again pretty quickly so that I could get my rest. I remember not being too happy with the nurses at the hospital - they kept taking him away from me, advised against rooming in so that I could rest, and, when he was badly jaundiced and had lost a pound in the hospital, told me that he needed formula and said, "See, this is what happens when you exclusively breastfeed." And cue the guilt that only mothers can feel. I have no idea why I'm even posting any of this. As you can tell, I'm still a little bitter about it.

We are 99% packed for this bitch of a move. We'll finish tonight, and then tomorrow night, our last night in Brooklyn, we'll likely hit one of our favorite eateries for one last meal here. And then begins the next chapter of our lives. We will be on our way to *gasp* settling down. Even though we're renting for a year, we're moving to the town we will call home.

Oh - and because this move isn't stressful enough, or because God is feeling punchy from packing, too, I am sick. Why I'm still getting ear infections at age 30 (29) is beyond me. Being sick and dealing with an overtired teething 24-week-old baby is not my idea of fun. My doctor has me on Cipro, so I'm expecting a raging yeast infection to crop up any day now. Throw in my period, which, incidentally, has gotten longer and bloodier since giving birth (can you honestly say you gave birth if you had a c-section?), and you have the kind of fun that's comparable to a carnival in hell co-hosted by Al Sharpton and Oprah.

This is so not where I wanted to go with this. But my mind just went blank as I sit here and watch my neutered cat hump his spayed sister. It's like a car accident - you know you should just continue on your way but you can't...help....looking.

Nathanael is close to sitting up on his own. He still ends up folding himself in half like a creepy contortionist, but he can hold his body upright for a minute or so at a time. He's teething and it's quite obviously causing him a great deal of discomfort - he stopped wolfing down solid food, he's rash-y, he's SO whiny, and he's lost interest in being social. So of course I think he's autistic, but our pediatrician is assuring us that these are classic signs of teething. I don't believe her. I don't even think she's a real doctor.

Nathanael is awake. I better turn Halloween 4 off before he gets ideas planted in his head.

Am I doing something wrong?

Mother of the year I am not. My son is bored with me. He's bored with his toys. He can't sit up on his own yet, even though many babies who are just a few days older than him have been doing it for a couple of weeks now. I worry that I'm not providing enough stimulation for him. I've run out of ideas on how to interact with him. Is this something to worry about? He shows no interest in playing with toys. Being his primary caregiver is an incredibly stressful job. I didn't think it would be so hard this early on. I feel like everything falls on my shoulders.

He has entered a clingy phase, whining every time I leave the room. That one doesn't bother me so much - I feel flattered, in fact. He's begun sleeping on his stomach, however at times will bury his face in the mattress and not move it. We've been staying up until ungodly hours to ensure that he does, in fact, remain breathing. We're exhausted.

We're seeing a pediatric ophthalmologist tomorrow. We were initially told on 3/16 that he had conjunctivitis. Two weeks and two different antibiotics later, the doctor changed her mind and told us that he has a clogged tear duct. I'm thrilled that I pumped my son full of antibiotics for nothing. Yet another oversight by this pediatrician. Several days ago he begin blinking like it was hurting him to look at things, so we were referred to a specialist. I can't wait to meet the man who thinks he's going to examine my son's eyes....my son who sees fit to wiggle all over the place whenever placed on his back. Good luck, doc.

We're making a huge move next week. Across the state. Into yet another apartment, but as God as my witness this will be the last apartment.

I'm worried about my baby. I'm worried that there's something going on or not going on that's causing him to have this lack of interest in most things play. I hate that I get the pleasure of bearing this burden alone. I hate that my only real outlet to vent is in this blog or to the message board I've belonged to since I found out I was pregnant.

And now I must go, as he is face down on the floor and probably ingesting cat hair.

Almost a year since I posted last!

Since last I posted, I have, quite obviously, given birth. I had my son on Halloween - oh what fun birthday parties we'll have! My pregnancy was horrid - hyperemis gravardium (severe 24/7 morning sickness), twice-daily heparin injections (thank you, blood clotting disorder), horrible pain from a uterine abnormality (so horrible, in fact, that I spent the last 4 weeks of my pregnancy doped up on Percocet), only to have in end with a c-section....but the result was amazing. Needless to say, then, keeping this blog updated on the progress of my pregnancy was so far down on my lsit of priorities that I forgot all about it until today. I have this incredible angel baby boy in my life now, and I LOVE being a mom. I get frustrated like I never have been before when he won't sleep (and sometimes I growl at him in frustration, but he just laughs at me). But through the frustration I try to imagine what life was like before him and I can't. And I don't want to. I love this life. I love this privlege I have of being a mother. I feel like I've joined a secret society, where only a special, selected few can revel in what they experienced and are experiencing and will experience. There is no greater role in life than mother.

We're making a HUGE move in about 2 1/2 weeks. Finally settling down. Not in a house yet, but hopefully next year. We'll be a lot closer to my family, and I love that the baby will get to know his Gran and Grandpa and Auntie A.

The babe turned 5 months old 3 days ago. I can't believe it. He's huge, and incredibly brilliant, of course. SO much fun. He looks at you while you're talking to him like he's trying hard to understand what you're saying, but becomes very upset when he realizes that I can't understand him. He's so impatient, just like his mama. His laugh is infectious. His smile warms your heart. He has an incredibly mischievious air about him, and I have a feeling he's going to give me a run for my money as he grows older. He's just now starting to sleep through the night. He eats solid foods once or twice a day and there isn't anything he won't eat. He tries so hard to walk when we stand him up, but shows no desire to crawl. He wants to sit up on his own, and is beginning to learn what's involved, but hasn't quite mastered it yet. He has me wrapped around his little finger and he knows it. And I wouldn't have it any other way.