After birthing other humans you understand why women through history always died in childbirth. It’s an exhausting, often brutal and gruesome affair, no doubt. Thankfully, with modern medicine, women today are stitched up good as new and parenting commences.

I have issues with stitches. I think it stems from the time my sister fell off the bed and cut her head on the edge of the dresser when we were kids. She had to have four stitches in her head. I couldn’t even look at them. I had to sit on the other side of her in the car on the way to church the next day so I wouldn’t be near the dark blue stitches. The doctor used blue thread.  She smelled like apple juice after leaving the emergency room. While I was genuinely concerned for her welfare, I couldn’t deal with the little blue knots that tied together the tender flesh of her skull. Let’s not even get in to the stitches my Dad had on his face after multiple sinus surgeries.

One of my biggest fears going in to birth both times was a c-section or episiotomy. Scalpels mean stitches. Skin sewn together. I always smell apple juice when I see them. If you show a Facebook picture of your stitches after your ACL surgery, I will hide you. Period.

Fortunately, I was really lucky and delivered my babies vaginally with no episiotomy. Now, this is the point in this post when I talk about stitches in my lady parts. You’ve been warned.

No one really warned me about tearing. I knew about perineal tears, I guess. I never gave much thought to my perineum in general until it was stitched up. I followed all the doctor’s orders of proper care. I kept those ice pack pads coated in Dermaplast. After Charlotte’s birth I think I was in such a hormonal haze, I just prayed it would all heal properly. After Henry, I dared to see for myself how my most tender flesh was healing.

I looked, ya’ll. I looked! It was late. Jill had warned me not to. It was one of those postpartum nights when I was miserable, sore and exhausted. I gingerly lifted my leg on the counter and held a mirror under me. Stitches! Apple juice! I nearly passed out at the site of this vaginal crime scene.

For the record, I am healed up. Everything is pink and happy. It’s all back to normal down there. So, don’t fret ladies, for those gruesome few weeks, it may seem like your nether regions will be forever wrecked, but thankfully there are stitches. Just don’t look at them, that taint no joke.

What?! You thought I would get through this post without a taint joke? Come on! 

Dear Henry,

I’m a little late with this month’s letter. You were 3 months old on February 6. No longer a newborn, you are officially an infant. Your third month was an eventful one for our family! I went back to work and you started staying with a sitter who was your sister’s old teacher. You had a great time with Miss Danielle. The toddlers she also keeps greeted you with smiles and a big “Henny!” every time they saw you.

But, I missed you Henry. I missed you and Charlotte. I decided to come home and spend more time with you. It’s the only time I will have with you as a baby. Every day that we snuggle on the couch and you smile at me as we doze off is amazing. You are soft and warm. We giggle at your cute baby chub. You are a whopping 13 lbs. 10 oz. Daddy and I love kissing your cheeks and making you smile.

Charlotte loves being with you and making you laugh too. She loves you so much, she’s even willing to share her germs. Yep. You got sick for the first time at 2.5 months old. It started with a cough and runny nose before a fever and ear infection. One day we even went to the doctor twice. You took it all in stride. You smiled the whole way through it. You laughed at us as you spit out the pink medicine we desperately tried to get you to swallow. Rascal.

Your cousin was born. You and he are 2.5 months, or 11 weeks and one day apart. Our family is so excited to see you grow together.

Your most fabulous feat? At 12 weeks you found your circadian rhythm! Oh, son! It was  so wonderful to have you sleep for 6 hours. Your sickness set you back a bit, and you’ve been waking up again. I’m hoping the irresistible beat of the circadian rhythm will lure you back to sleep for longer stretches soon.

You’re such a sweet baby We can’t believe you’re 3 months old, yet it feels like you’ve been part of our family for so much longer than 90 days.

I love you, my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama

When she was a little girl we used to ask my younger sister “Julie, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Her answer was always the same, “A mommy!”

She was spirited and kind. She loved deeply and giggled loud and hearty. She carried streaks of wit, sass and dogged determination behind blue eyes that watered quickly at the slightest sentiment. Julie was joy. Always joy.

That little girl had no idea the ambitious, driven young woman she would turn into. She knew nothing of a Master’s in Business Administration or of careers in finance. She didn’t know she would find a man with the humor and sense of adventure to become her perfect match.

This weekend I walked into a hospital room and looked into the tiny face of my nephew. He is eight pounds of delightful squirmy newborn. The only thing I could think is that she had done it. She had become what she always said she would, a mommy.

I wanted to tell her baby how lucky he was to have her as his mommy, but I didn’t need to. He’ll know soon enough. He’ll know she is joy. Always joy.

Yep. This is a post where I show off my beautiful babies. It’s shameless. I know.  Ya’ll! Look at these! My sweet friend Brooke is a very talented photographer specializing in weddings, families and kids. Check her out here and on Facebook here. Maybe it’s just me, but I love looking at newborn photography. It’s an ovary overload. It makes me want like, 20 babies. Seriously.

Brooke and I had an awesome time arranging my little man in a basket and taking adorable photos. What it is about mamas? We love taking pictures of our naked little babies. He looks so sweet and wonderful as freshly baked newborns should . I look at these and my exhaustion from not sleeping in six weeks vanishes. I love these children and can’t believe I have these awesome pictures of them. Thank you, Brooke! Tell me which ones you think would make a good canvas or framed photo in the house.

Dear Henry,

Welcome to the world, son! You have made us a family of four. You have made us the parents of two children, “somebodies” parents, if you will. You were one month old on Friday.

This month we have listened to your grunts and coos. You are warm, round, sweet and floppy. We have snuggled and gotten to know you. You have snoozed in our arms and looked at us with your dark blue eyes. We love watching you get a little more alert each day. You are a very good baby. You’re not giving Mama and Daddy a ton of sleep at night because you are so hungry nearly every two hours.

You love nothing more than to eat. We have watched in amazement as you seemed to grow by the hour. The doctors have been shocked at how much weight you have gained. You already graduated from newborn to size 1 diapers. You can wear newborn and 0-3 month size clothes, but 3 month sizes will fit you very soon. We are pretty certain you are more than 10 lbs., up from 8 lbs. 2 oz. at birth.

You are already a patient little brother. When your big sister gets a tad zealous with her love and and excitement, you take it in stride, never crying when she kisses and hugs you a little roughly. We giggled when she shared her princess stickers with you. She likes to show you your baby toys, even if you are deep in sleep and can’t see them.

When you were born you had so much hair, including some down your back and on your arms. Everyday you shed a little more and get a little more bald up top. We laugh at your balding and wonder if this means you will be spared male pattern baldness as an adult. We wonder what color and texture your hair will grow in when it comes back.

We are so excited to see you grow and spend our lives with you. Thank you so much for bringing joy to our family. We will never forget your first month. I love you, Henry,  my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama