So we’re home from our longish weekend in Maryland to visit with the baaaaaaby (and his parents). The baby is something like 4 weeks old and weighing in at 8 lbs, something ounces. I spent a lot of time on Saturday talking alone with the mother. I really feel like she’s someone I can really ask for advice when/if my time comes. She told me about all the stuff no one tells you (well, I’ve read about some of it on various Mommy-type blogs) – and showed me EVIDENCE, too.
Seriously. Someone should show 15 year old girls the enormous ice pack moms get to use post partum. That would work wonders for teen pregnancy rates.
The new parents were amazingly kind. I got to hold the baby on a few occasions. That went well except for the inevitable “holy crap my elbow hurts but if I move it the kid could end up hurt”. I got to feed him once. And with that, I have never felt more inadequate. (The good news is that the Mom said to herself “ha ha! now she’ll know how *I* feel!” so I guess it’s typical). I was explicitly told “Try to avoid air bubbles – you’ll have to burp them out of him later!” and wasn’t THAT terrifying.
This is why I usually have a “I won’t hold your baby, I won’t drive your car” rule. If I burp Plan B wrong, it’s my kid I’m giving stomach upset to. If I burp YOUR kid wrong, I’m setting you up for a night from hell. And possible eternal hatred from you.
The interesting thing about the baby mama is that her job is to listen very carefully to everything you say. So, when you talk to her, she listens very carefully and God help you if you turn on Conversational Auto-Pilot because you might accidentally suggest she hasn’t lost all of the baby weight. If this happens, quickly ask where the baby is. She’s sleep deprived and it might save your life.
(Not that that happened to me or anything).
More about the visit later.
PS to my reader in MD – holy cow. The TRAFFIC.