When the doctor broke my water to start labor, (Yea!  That’s right!  I was induced, okay!  I’ve heard the criticism.)  little did I know that would just be the start of the wave of fluids to leave my body for not just the next six hours, but the next six weeks.

The worst was in the hospital when I couldn’t go.  I kept apologizing to the nurses who had to catheterize me.  I filled a two liter container.  No, I’m not exaggerating.

As if meconium laced newborn diapers weren’t gross enough, no one  tells you about all the postpartum leaking, seeping, and general weeping.  I’m here today to share more about post-baby bodily fluids.  You’re welcome!

• Sweat– The first two weeks after Charlotte was born I would wake up in drenched sheets with wet strands of hair.  I would apologize to Greyson for all the saline in the bed.
• Urine– I had to go all the time.  It was always an ordeal, you know, with the stitches and such.
• Colostrum–  The very first bit of breast milk you have.  The first time I fed Charlotte in the Delivery Room I was shocked to find it there!  I remember saying, “Oh my God!  There’s milk in there!”
• Breast milk–  The next few days after Charlotte was born my mom kept asking me, “Has your milk come in yet?”  I would reply, “I dunno.”  She would say, “Oh!  You’ll know.”  Boom!  Little did I know, when the dairy opened, I would be in business for a full year.  My cups runneth over. I swear sometimes I thought I had enough milk for two babies.  I never had to buy formula.  That was awesome.  I have to say, I really miss calorie burn of lactating.  Now, I have to run instead of sit on the couch with the breast pump.  Boo!
• Lochia–  That’s a fancypants Latin word for “six weeks of heavy period”.  Oh, and no tampons.  Only pads.  I had horrific flashbacks to 7th grade.
• Tears–  I’m not a cryer by nature.  I mean, I’m not cold hearted.  I shed a few reading The Notebook and watching Mr. Holland’s Opus.  But, it was nothing compared to other women (::ahem:: my sister) who sobbed during Titanic.  (“I’ll never let go, Jack!”) Something happened when the hormones started dropping.  I came home and saw flowers from friends and coworkers and could stop crying about it.  This Chevy commercial  came out the week we brought her home.  It killed me!  I would just look at Greyson and say, “What has happened to me?!”

Even with all that dampness I look back on those first days affectionately.  There was nothing like it.  You just have to wade through.

November 4, 2010. The day we brought her home. I was nervous, puffy, swollen, but happy.

Like any new mother I was hesitant and frankly dreading Charlotte’s move from infancy to toddlerhood.  If I’m being honest it was a “Waa! Waa! My baby is growing up” thing.  Seven months into officially having a toddler and I realized.  I love it.  Toddlers are not only adorable, they’re crazy fun!

It has been the greatest adventure watching my baby become this giggling, talking, playing, fighting, eating, drinking, dancing, singing little person.  She has become a child with likes and dislikes, good days and bad.  She is a human who gets sick, gets hurt, gets well, and heals up.

I feel silly even writing it.  It’s an obvious and ordinary thing to learn and discover your world.  But, not when it’s your child.  When it’s your child it becomes magical.

We were coming home the other day and I said in the car, “Charlotte, are you ready to go home and see Daddy and Ginger?”  She was quiet for a second, then responded, “Mama too?”  I said, “Yes Baby.  Mama too.  Always.”

These days we’re hit or miss with potty training in our house.  I’m not really sweating it, nor am I going super hard-core with it because she’s only 19-months-old.  Regardless, potty training has brought up interesting “conversations” with our toddler.

Sometimes they are anatomy lessons.

She knows where her bottom is.  “Ba-ba” as she calls it, as she pats her rear end.  She sits on the potty and we talk.  I explain that poo-poo comes out of her bottom and pee-pee comes out the front.  I tell her these are her “private parts” Pretty soon I’ll use the proper words anus and urethra.  I have also explained that part of her private parts are her vagina.  She just looks at me and tugs on my earring and giggles, or points at my nose and says “Mama nose!”  I laugh.  The point is, we have started the conversation.

I do not believe in using cutesy terms for private parts.  Ever.

Tracie is a sexual abuse survivor and a really inspiring woman.  She explains why cutesy terms are a bad idea better than I ever could.  Read this!!!!  I think my favorite line is “You wouldn’t tell your daughter that her nose is called a Hoo-Ha and then send her out in the world.  Then why is it okay to say that about her vagina?”

Funny thing is, I know Charlotte is listening.  Even at 1 1/2 she understands.  For example, after one of these conversations I was standing in the bathroom and felt a little hand patting my backside.  “Mama ba-ba!”

I died laughing as I picked her up thinking of all the other anatomy lessons she’ll eventually understand.

We spent much of our weekend prepping our house to be “staged” to sell it.  Blech!  I hate that term.  I’m not getting rid of our pictures.  That’s ridiculous.

Side note:  Don’t cook fish the weekend you’re preparing your house.

When we decorated the nursery we painstakingly made the perfect space for our girl.  As much as I’m ready to move I will miss that little room.  It’s by far my favorite spot in the house with it’s pink and yellow walls and throwback pictures from my own youth.  I packed away tiny newborn clothes and stashed the changing pad before stacking the bookshelf on the dresser.

Suddenly it became less a nursery and more of a little girl’s room.  It was all at once a sad and thrilling thing to leave the space where she spent her babyhood and go somewhere else to begin childhood.

See this cute little potty?  Well folks, be glad it’s closed because MY KID CRAPPED IN IT TODAY!  Woo Hoo!  We’re so freakin’ proud.  We’ll have a little celebration tomorrow night.  Maybe some ice cream, or bran muffins.  You know, something to encourage more bowel movements.

We understand it will be slow-going since she’s only 19-months, but we’re excited.  (Oh wow.  Did you catch that explainabrag?  Sorry.  I’ve learned parents can do that.)