True Confessions

I must admit that I'm not too fond of the newborn stage.

It's not anything the baby's doing: crying, spitting up, eating constantly, crying, keeping me up, crying and so on. I regard these as normal. I mean he's taking these first several weeks to get used to 'being on the outside'. It's got to be hard, that. You're used to having your temperature regulated, your body closely snuggled, your meals delivered intraveinously and suddenly it's COLD, and BRIGHT, and LOUD! That's gotta be tough.

I have no problem understanding and helping my newborn through this transition. Yes, I have to remember to swaddle him; yes, his only form of communication is crying - so he does it a lot; and yes, he eats all the time. I was adapted by Nature to build this creature and also to feed him when he arrived. The first few weeks are tough, but I'm a big girl and I can cope. It gets easier and I'm not gonna die from lack of a little sleep.

So what exactly do I find disenchanting? The baby himself. Oh I adore my babes - don't get me wrong - but I dislike the plastic-babydoll newborn. I really start enjoying baby when he starts responding. I love it when they stop sleeping all the time and start being alert. I'm charmed to find my several-week-old peering sharply around with those dark blue eyes and following my face. I love to hear those first few grunts intended solely for me: ooohh, the boobies are here!

Bitty Boy is a bit over 3 weeks now and is getting to this point - and I'm loving it.

Oh, and while I'm confessing my likes and dislikes of this stage lemme say that all the things happening with mommy at this point blow large! General disgusting yuck and having to wear pads? Sucks. Swelling ankles, feet, and belly? Sucks. Gross tonnage of fat and flab that now have to be lost because of my own lack of willpower while pregnant? Double sucks!

And to totally bolster my self-image I was the happy recipient Monday of that most complimentary of post-partum questions: "When is the baby due?"

Great ... just great.