Yay!

Veronica laughed for the first time today. She was on her changing table, just out of her nightgown and getting ready to be put into her onesie, and smiling up a storm. So Jason started tickling her lightly, on the sides of her ribs (that usually brings a smile) and under her chin. Then, when he was tickling her chin, she smiled and let out a little laugh. Then she did it again, a little, goofy baby laugh.

She did it again and again for the next couple minutes, as I continued the chin tickling and Jason called his grandpa and Aunt Emily. Veronica stopped laughing, however, when Jason put the phone up so Grandpa could hear; she immediately started staring intently at the purple phone, completely forgetting what had amused her moments before.

She's been cooing ever since, multi-syllalbic coos at that. Now Jason's blowing raspberries at her, and she's trying in vain to imitate him. She's also eating like it's going out of style. I can't believe how fast she's growing, how much she's amazing me almost every single day.

Oh, the news I could report for the past 11 days - the visit from Anne, Ben, and little Zane. The cookout at the babysitter's. Veronica's new affection for Snoopy (both her stuffed one and on one of Jason's T-shirts) and continued affinity for trees. Her messed-up sleep schedule, once as reliable as Old Faithful, now interrupted by 4 a.m. crying jags or being wide-awake at 6 a.m. Her discovery of Pita's paws today - and Pita, amazingly, not being perturbed by two little accidental baby-punches to her face. Work. The weather. Life in general.

But my big thing that happened today was that she rolled over, all by herself, for the very first time. From her back to her front, followed by much pissed-off flailing as she really hates being on her belly. So I flipped her back over, onto her back - and we repeated this process again and again. I was so psyched that, after much cooing and praising her for her efforts, I immediately called Jason (who was working late) and then my parents.

It doesn't sound like much, but it is. As Jason pointed out, we can never again lay her down and leave her somewhere for a minute (like in the middle of our bed), expecting her to be in the exact same spot when we look back. Veronica is gaining mobility. How can I not be excited about that?

So my friend Sara is contemplating having a baby sometime soon. And naturally, being that I've done so recently, I'm dying to start laying on the advice and such.

My problem is, should I?

It's like this:

First off, the negative things about being pregnant and having a baby. Oh, there's tons of them. But when I was very gung-ho to have a kid, I didn't want to hear any of those things. I always thought the moms who passed along the gloom n' doom stories were assholes, just trying to scare me or one-up me with the good ole' "Oh, YOU'LL SEE". I never really appreciated my mom bitching about being a mom because, damn, that was a good way to give me a complex. I mean, not like I don't have enough already. :-P

Secondly, though, are the positive things about pregnancy and having a baby. There's tons of those too, otherwise people just wouldn't do it at all! But the most touching moments cannot be described, only experienced, like the first time Jason touched my abdomen and felt Veronica move, or watching her in the ultrasounds. Words can't describe it. But if I get too blissed-out, then I sound like my Lamaze instructor or, worse yet, like all the mothers who didn't understand things that happened in my pregnancy because it didn't happen in theirs. (Like the people at work who couldn't understand that I was getting exhausted after putting on so much fluid that I couldn't tie my shoes anymore, my feet were so swollen. Or the women who kept bragging about how THEY never had morning sickness, or how THEY could work three jobs when they were pregnant. Yeah, yeah, here's a medal, now go away.)

Thirdly, what sort of advice could I give when I couldn't even do two of the most important things in the pregnancy/childbirth process: Labor, and breastfeeding. I can't say what it's like to go into labor, because I never did. (I still feel robbed of that experience - every other woman, even pampered celebrities and even more pampered royals, has gone through that and knew what she was capable of. All except for me, who seemed to prove my mom's advice - throughout the course of my life - that I should ask the doctor for a scheduled C-section because I could never handle the pain.) And the only other woman I know who doesn't breastfeed, physically can't because too many of her milk ducts were taken during a breast reduction surgery several years ago. Even Jason gets upset with me, saying that I gave up the breastfeeding too easily and encouraging me to continue pumping, even though I get less than an ounce a day now. I'm a complete failure at both of these, and don't know how to encourage anyone in them. (If I sound bitter, it's because honestly, I am. And maybe a better woman wouldn't let this get to her, but I do. That's just me. I'm good on dwelling on the negative. Probably why I'm such an upbeat person *sarcasm*).

But finally, despite all my neurotic second-guessing listed above, I'm going to let her know what I went through, because dammit, there was so much that no one told ME - good or bad. And there's so much more to it than labor and breastfeeding too. There's a LOT more to it. And then again, maybe she won't want to know every single thing that happened to me; I know that while I didn't want to feel alone in some experiences, I really didn't have much of an interest in other people's pregnancies when I was pregnant. It's the feeling, really, of how special this is to ME, and therefore what anyone else when through was kind of irrelevant. No matter what, though, I'll be here for her - which I don't mind mentioning because I know she'll read this later - and hopefully that's what's important.

So last night, these storms blew through our area, ripping down trees and wires in their wake. Plenty of places around town were without power this morning, and roads were actually shut down in my neck of the woods due to fallen trees.

I'm in bed, semi-asleep, listening to both the baby monitor and the storm outside. It is 4:41 a.m. The wind is blowing so hard, the thunder rumbling so loud, that I'm awaiting the sound of a tornado at any moment. I can't sleep, as I'm fully prepared to leap up in a split second, bolt into Veronica's room, grab her, and then wisk her into our bedroom closet (the only safe place, we've determined, in the entire house - we have no basement and no rooms without outside walls.) I eventually fall back asleep picturing the scenario in my head, ending with me, Jason and Veronica huddled in the bottom of our closet with the shoes.

It wasn't until my drive to work this morning that I realized I'd forgotten Pita.

My poor cat. She's been with me now for eight and a half years, from crappy off-campus housing to drives back and forth to California to here. Pita was always my baby. Now Veronica's my baby, and Pita has become what I never thought she would be: just a pet. I feel so bad for her. We try to cuddle her, pick her up when we get the chance, and pet her often, but she still doesn't get nearly half the attention she used to. She frequently ignores the baby and now contents herself to lay on our feet instead of on our laps. So you can imagine how guilty I felt when I realized that, in my head last night, I saved my whole family - and she wasn't there.

On a lighter note, as I lay there in bed with my eyes half-open, Jason gets up to to check out the storm. He's not really awake either. He says good-night again, then as he gets into bed, he rips a big ole' fart. I mean, it had resonance. Then, still very groggy, he turns to me and mumbles, "Honey, did you say something?" He he he...I had to tell him this one when he woke up this morning. I laughed and laughed and gave him all sorts of crap for that one. That's classic. ("I can't believe we actually had a 'Good Will Hunting' moment," he later commented.)

And in case you feel bad for poor Jason getting laughed at, remember that he was in the shower this morning when I was changing Veronica's diaper and she squirted poop about six inches onto the changing table. She then proceeded to pee all over herself and then spit up, all within the next sixty seconds or so. Blech. It's the ultimate in reality TV - When Babies Explode. She was completely cleaned up and almost dressed by the time Daddy made it in there. Karma can be a bitch sometimes, can't it? :-P

ACK.

Tomorrow is my first day back to work after maternity leave, and I'm scared as hell. I had a nightmare this morning about getting up at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, only to see a clock a few moments later telling me it's 8:05 a.m. and I still haven't eaten breakfast or put on my makeup yet. (Note: I need to be at work at 8:30, and my commute's about a half hour away.)

I fear too because I was recently warned by the attorney I work under that we've lost a couple clients, making the department I work in quite unstable. They also have hired a new girl to do the job I did before my maternity leave. I worry that I'll be reassigned to a new position and moved to a less desirable work space. I even fear that I'll lose my job (after, of course, whatever the time frame would be to comply with the Family Medical Leave Act, which states that a firm of that size has to give me my job back, or a similar position, after 12 weeks of maternity leave or less.) I was told that layoffs would be determined by merit, not seniority - scant consolation, when there's only two people in my department who've been there longer than me (and one of those, only by one week.) Add that to the fact that my work performance slipped due to the stresses (physical and mental) of pregnancy before my maternity leave, and I think I have a legitimate fear.

Add all this to the fact that I've now realized that the babysitter will be seeing Veronica more often than I do, and you can easily see that, while I long to get out of the house, I'm really not looking forward to tomorrow or most of the days that follow.

Two big pieces of news:

1. On Thursday night, Veronica slept in her crib in her room for the night, rather than in the bassinet in our room. All in all, it went well - she slept for 6.5 hours there. I think Jason and I got less sleep, as we stayed awake for the longest time, listening to the faint white noise coming from the monitor to hear her slightest little cry.

2. Carlos watched Veronica tonight while Jason and I went to Graeter's and to a movie. For once, the ice cream at Graeter's sucked - it was waterlogged. I kept crunching on ice. Not typical of Graeter's at all, but definitely foreshadowing our experience of seeing "Hulk." Damn. The title, I believe, is indicative of the fact that it's a hulking pile of crap. I kept waiting for it to begin...then I started waiting for it to end. If it's not the worst movie I've ever seen, I can't remember what is. DAMN.

And I'm heading to beddy-bye now, hopefully. Or staying up with Jason and Los to hang out for a while. Haven't decided yet; at this point, both sound equally appealing. :-)