Things are starting to settle into a routine. It’s different from our old routine, but it’s better than the sheer chaos of a few weeks ago. Never fear, chaos is never more than an arm’s reach away, like say when we take a nanosecond too long to change her diaper, or, God forbid, we assume since she’s already eaten for over an hour and a half that she could conceivably go another 30 minutes without food.
But, yeh, the routine. We both have our roles. My husband is the diaper changer and burper – talents I told him are in high demand on his CV. I’m the milk machine (something like a Wendy’s Frosty machine, but warmer and not as much fun). The real treat is when we can hand her off to my mom who has the unearthly ability to calm down her from a state of breathless rage. She’s our baby whisperer.
That’s not to say that we are feeling like we just got back from a spa day (but Christmas is coming, amirite, readers?). Let’s just say that eye drops are our best friends now (and hats for when we forget to wash our hair).
On Sunday morning, I had an MRI. I’ve been having some pretty potent headaches since having Squeaker and with my history it was startling.
The MRI was with contrast, so I couldn’t feed her for 24 hours. The nurses talked to me very seriously about pumping and dumping. I felt like a third-grader for laughing at the phrase “pump and dump”.
That meant that for a whole day I was liberated! Is it wrong that I felt more than a little excited, even if my freedom was the result of being shoved in a noisy tube and pumped full of IV contrast? I had really big plans for my 24-hours sans symbiotic newborn. I wanted to eat sushi…and drink a beer! Yes, a whole beer. I had a whole checklist of characteristics it had to have, too. Dark? Yes. Chocolatey? Please. Thick? Of course.
Then it snowed. What was supposed to be five inches turned into upwards of a foot of thick snow that blanketed the metro area. Minnesota used to rock the snow removal part of snow. Then budget cuts happened. So when we set out Sunday morning, the freeway had not even been plowed yet. However, in light of my fear that my brain was harboring another tumor, we set course to the hospital. (One side effect of dealing with a baby 24/7 is using overly dramatic speech like “set course”.)
Later that afternoon, after we got home, we got snowed in. I’d like the thank the Minnesota Department of Transportation for robbing me of my 24 hours of freedom…and I’m sure other people had really important things to do, too.
The good news is that the results were clear! I’m most likely suffering some type of hormonal thing. Yay? But that should go away soon, right? Right? I mean, it’s been a month.
OH MY GOD. It’s been a month. It’s her one month-vers-e-day! Happy one month, squeaker. May you soon sleep at night in your crib!