She's Got 100 Different Smiles

She has at least 100 different smiles this child does. And she's so beautiful. I got bogged down with not updating for a while because I missed so much and there was so much I wanted to say, but you have to just dig in and start again somewhere.

Quick up date of what Zoe is doing now:
- Eating Solids (YUMMY)
- Sitting up
- Grabbing EVERYTHING
- Banging on hard surface she can bag on
- Take a bath in the big girl tub
- She has two teeth and she's working on two more
- She can say DADA and BABA
- Hold her own bottle

She's changing so quickly. She's got this big gummy smile and the laughter dance that we call "Joygasms" that she just freaks out and starts headbanging and giggling when she sees one of us.

Her new smile is when you come up behind her and kiss her on the head she gets this little tight, pursed lips smile that just reeks of "Mooooommmm......What are you DOING??"

I survived my first trip away from her. It was terrible. I felt as if I'd left half of my soul at home. Don't get me wrong - SLEEPING IN was heaven. HEAVEN. I haven't been the same since actually, but it was still awful being away from her for six days.

David did fabulously on his own though. I'm shocked and little dismayed at the number of women who appear not to trust their husbands to successfully watch their own children in their absence. I mean, the child IS half his!!! I can't conceive of a world in which my incredible husband DOESN'T give his all and doesn't do at least 50% of the work. I know I"m lucky though, and many don't.

But women I think have this trouble giving up their perceived power when it comes to their offspring. The subconsciously WANT to be the only people that can take care of the child. It defines them. It is their sole purpose and without that power they have no control.

Let me tell you....I AIN'T one of those women. I find I enjoy Zoe much more knowing that she is surrounding by loving and trusted people who help care for her. I'm proud of the village that is helping to raise and shape my child.

Buns of Steel

My kid is freaking amazing. I mean...she's so far ahead of her time it's not even funny!

And she's soooo not MY kid. She loves to exercise. She can do full push ups! I mean on her hands and her TOES push ups.

The only truly ridiculous part of that is that she ends up scooting backwards.

I sort of have a bit of writers block. I"m thinking of asking David to do some updating for me so that he can put some in from his perspective. I'm sure he'd enjoy that....wouldn't you neighbor?

Baby's Day Out

Zoe took her first trip last weekend that was both overnight AND without her Daddy. My sister just bought a house and so Mom and I drove down to help with a garage sale (which is code for SHOP).

Mom was worried how Zoe would do in the car, and that really turned out to be the least of our worries (with the exception of the extremely disgusting diaper change that took place in the back (leather) seats of my dads Impala that not only caused Zoe to cry but made me cry like when I'm cutting onions). The end result was that she slept most of the way, played with me the remainder of the time and we all got there in one piece without killing each other.

Sleeping was a whole other basket of bananas. #1 thing to remember - zoe does NOT like sleeping in her Pack N Play. Nope, noway, no how, NADA. Her normal bedtime is 7:30 PM. The first night she finally fell asleep at midnight, and the second night it was sometime after 10 PM.

The rest of the times that we were out she did great, as usual. She loves to be a girl about town and loves shopping even now!


Let's talk about naps and how they relate to back and neck pain. Zoe would NOT nap ANY other way than this:




This was at LEAST three naps a day for half and hour to 45 minutes at a time. THANK GOD for muscle relaxers.

That said though, I'm very proud of how she did! She missed her Daddy so much though! I've never seen her smile like she smiled when she saw David!

Somewhere In Time...

It all goes by so quickly. I don't know exactly how many days have passed since I updated this but I already know there are some many things that Zoe has done that I won't be able to document them all!

Let's start with a section called "New Things that Zoe Does"

(1) She can EAT! They told me she'd been doing it well at daycare for a while now, but she never wanted to eat babyfood at home. She would just sit in the high chair with a look that said "Are you RETARDED? LEARNING IMPAIRED? Would YOU eat that?"

Last Saturday night she just decided she would show ME. So she eats now and her favorite foods are apples and peas and sweet potatoes (not all together of course). The fun thing here is that she already likes to feed herself. She wants to hold the spoon....hard. Her favorite place to grasp the spoon (logically) is in the bowl of it, where the food is. It's the closest to her mouth. That makes feedings fun!

(2) She is starting to be able to sit up a little, which is very exciting. She loves to be on her tummy to play or in her exersaucer, but she really wants to be a part of the action.

Anyone need a miracle for their child who MUST be in the middle of everything but can't sit up for herself yet? Try a Bumbo Seat. It looks a pod for Yoda to sit in, but it's a freakin' miracle!

(3) She is learning to make OTHER people laugh. It started when she was sick and David would cough at her to make her laugh (I know, she's weird). A couple of days ago she started "fake" coughing before she made any sound. Then, I had a bad allergic reaction that sent me to the ER and robbed me temporarily of my voice. When Zoe heard me try to talk she laughed, and did a fake cough and started grunting at me. Well that got me giggling, which got her giggling and now she's doing funny things to make Mommy and Daddy laugh.


I've got some new pics that I will post from Mothers day and beyond, someday Lord, when I have more time. I should be able to keep up a little more frequently now.

My next post is going to be must haves for every new mom. Feel free to comment and I'll keep the list going!

Are you there God? it's ME, Margaret!

We're still here. In the battle of good and evil, Unhappy Baby Monkey is winning. She keeps making appearances at home, and for long stretches at a time. I KNEW we shouldn't have breathed that colossal sigh of relief when we passed the point that colic would have taken hold.

That's all for now. Oh yeah...and this...

Bookends

I haven't posted in a bit and I'm really sorry for that. It's not that nothing important is happening (hell, my first Mothers Day just passed!) it's just that important things are happening in other areas of my life. Work is getting really busy with software installs, training, trying to hire an assistant that I don't get as much "slacker" time anymore.

Zoe has changed so much in the past week and a half, sometimes I can scarcely believe it. She went from being very interested in her surroundings and studying them intensley to truly interacting with them.

When I say interact, that's pyschobabble for GRABBING. Oh yes. She grabs now. First it was Moms little day of the week pill box which she eyed and then played with as if it was the most expensive toy Fisher Price had to offer. Oh how she loved that pillbox!!! After that, it was ON. My glasses are another favorite. It's a fun game to swipe the glasses right off my face. Those of you who know me in real life know the fun with that game. I'm blind as an effing bat without my glasses. I can't see where her grubby little hand is waving them. Fortunately she usually hits me in the face with them after a second so I know where they are (this was NOT something I thought of when I ordered streamlined, cool little silver glasses)

After my glasses it was my coffee cup. And our lips or eyelids or noses.

It's awesome to see her discovering so much more around her.

She also digs tummy time now (did I tell you guys that already?) She actually calms down when she's on her tummy.

David has a new game that he plays with her. He holds her in a cradle hold and she'll reach up to touch his face (you think it sounds sweet but it really looks like a scene from the Miracle Worker). He then snarls at her and pretends to eat her hand. She LOVES it. She laughs so hard she sucks in air and makes that wheezy littel "eeeeeeeeee" sound.

She's also finding she likes some baby food. Carrots are good (they don't go up her nose nearly as much as the sweet potatoes) and apples and oatmeal aren't that bad either. She's even starting to open her mouth for the spoon a little.

Let me tell you people, spit up gets REALLY fun when there are colored foods involved.

I gave in to the baby gear mania and bought her a bumbo seat. I will post pictures of it tomorrow!

A million little things

Well, between the rockin' thunderstorm that kept us out of power for a bit and the fact that blogger has apparently been effed up for a few days, I haven't been posting much and frankly people...you have been reading much.

That's right. I can see. I KNOW ALL!

Things have been settling down in our household. Zoe is finally back to herself (it turns out she missed daycare. Monday afternoon she was sooo happy when I picked her up)

She's really starting to grab for things now. Last evening I was wearing her while in the yard helping Mom pick up sticks and branches. We were using those littel grabber, which let me tell you are a real exercise in dexterity. I'm pretty confident I could do one of those remote robotic surgerys now.

I started to notice every time I went to put a branch in the trash bag she would grab for it. So I let her play with one for a little while. Then she made a grab for my water glass when we took a break on the porch. I decided to let her explore and she DUNKED her hand in my waterglass! She seemed to think that whole grabbing business is pretty cool.

She also dearly loves to grab hair, noses and lips. It's just one big old glad handing grabbing fiesta!

She hates eating solid food though. More sweet potatoes get up her nose than anything else.

I've realize that I'm a rotten closer. It's a cop out, but I'm going to leave you with another entertaining picture. Sorry Mom. Had to do it.

We're Only Love At It's Best or Worst

Parenting can be an exercise in evasive maneuvers. By evasive I mean learning to wrestle away all of the fears, unknowns, guilt and unbelievable responsibility and putting those things in a place where they can't find you for a while. You know it's not going to be forever, but you can at least buy some time until the NEXT time they rear their evil heads.

If you ever allowed yourself the time and energy it takes to tackle all of those fears that nest in your head you could simply NOT be a good parent. There would be no foods you could eat, no foods your child could eat, no place you could go, no one would talk to you, etc. You'd just be a crazy hermite germaphobe freak parent who raises one of those weird kids who eats butter by the stick and calls himself "Frankie" when his name is John.

For as long as I can remember I've had dreams about these enormous Tsunami type waves come at me and wash over me. I've never been afraid of them. I think this is because when I was very little, one of the summers we spent at Lake Michigan I was playing in the waves and one washed over me. I opened my eyes to see green water sparkling brilliant in the sun, and I felt at peace.

Those dreams haven't changed, but in my waking life I feel those waves coming towards me and they aren't as harmless or pleasant as in my dreams. Each time a wave of panic threatens to wash over me I try to take a breath and give it to God.

What if she doesn't get better? What if they were right about vaccines and I've given her Autism? What if daycare is what is making her sick? Why can't I just stay home and take care of her?

I feel deficient as a mother when I think these things and they simply won't do.

I love that child with every fiber of my being and I will not let the waves wash over me. There is no peace in that.

Fortunately right about the time I feel like I'll break Zoe farts like an old man or blows out a diaper and we both think it's hilarious and life is broken down into simple, one syllable tasks like changing diapers and giving baths. Or...she makes a face like this...



I never liked abstract art, and I won't give into abstract thinking.

Unhappy Baby Monkey

Remember before when I said that I had reached my limit of finding things humorous when Zoe was sick.

I was wrong.

Unhappy Baby Monkey showed her face yesterday. I've decided that Happy Baby Monkey is zoe's superhero name and her use of her feet is her superpower. This is probably resultant of too many conversations with David about What Superhero Would I Be and What Would my SuperPower Be....blah blah blah.

So her evil ALTEREGO is UnHappy Baby Monkey. It's freakin' Friday people, give me a break - there's just not much left in the creativity well.

Upward and onward though...

Zoe hates her breathing treatments which consist of a box about the size of a See N Say, complete with handle that opens up to attach the tubing and what looks like a good old fashioned chloroform mask.

She KNOWS what's about to happen when she sees that mask. Mom asked if she could possibly have caught on that quickly and my answer is HELL YES. She starts drooling and crying. It's sort of Pavlovian.

The mask goes on and her eyes well up and the crying begins. It tears the very fabric of my heart to hear her cry that way. I will admit to being a complete wimp. I have to be the one holding her because I can't stand the look of recrimination on her innocent little face.

And then it begins.

First it's the "wringing of the feet". She literally wrings her feet like someone else might wring their hands.

Then she starts clapping them together. They turn red and hot and they seem to be everywhere at once (hence the superpower reference)!

UnHappy Baby Monkey has grabbed the tubing and almost ripped it, gouged me with her toenails, grabbed the mask connector and successfully pulled that out. The most devilish incident occurred when Mom and I were giving her a treatment. She had one hand and one foot. I had another foot and hand and she was literally up in the air, rigid, like when we used to play Light as a Feather Stiff as a Board when we were kids.

Giving her one of these treatments is like riding a bull! I keep waiting for some cowboy in chaps to scream "7 SECONDS" so I can let go. But no, the treatments last about 12 minutes each, with no respite from the howling of Unhappy Baby Monkey.

DISCLAIMER

I use spell check, I swear.

I'm just usually either blogging on the DL from work or I'm up late doing it and trying to edit it later.

I apologize for any and all spelling/grammatical errors that make me appear uneducated or stupid.

I really need your approval. Forgive me please?

Happy Friday!

Overcome

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Our broadcast this evening comes from a place many have visited and never returned once they had children - Exhaustionville. It's sort of like New Mexico, but not nice.

Seriously though, I've been out of pocket a couple of days because Zoe has been very sick. She came down with Bronchiolitis, which can be a very serious respiratory condition in babies.

It can manifest as a regular cold, but in Zoe's case gave her a tearing, bubbly cough and labored breathing, etc. I took her to the pediatrician on Tuesday and she ended up on Albuterol treatments every 4 hours for 24 hours, and she's still taking them as needed. She's also on Amoxicillin, Cough Syrup and vitamins.

Poor thing - we're pretty sure she got it from daycare.

As it happens, as a frame of reference this began Sunday and it is now Thursday.

I wanted this to be funny, but the truth is it's been pretty scary. I think seeing her with a mask on her face taking breathing treatments and getting her pulse/ox checked sort of shell shocked me back to when she was born.

Almost everyone I know whose children had this ended up in the hospital. So far, our trooper is doing pretty well.

So I've basically been scared shitless and ashamed of myself that I'm so tired that when I do wake up at night I make David check her breathing to ensure it's alright.

That little girl is the world to us and I"m sure we're making a mountain out of a molehill but it was damn scary to hear her cough and labor to breath

She also screamed like hell when we give her the treatments. That didn't help. She doesn't like being restrained at all.

Well, we've learned a couple of things about me today.

(1) I do have limits - not everything CAN be viewed humorously
(2) I use foul language when I'm tired.

signing off for now, I just wanted you to know we're stil here...

The Virtues of a Good Husband II -That Cat Has a Screw Loose

One of my cats is about as high maintenance as Zoe. To tell the truth, he may be a little more. He was terribly malnourished when he was young and was the runt of the litter. So his brain did not develop properly and while he is instinctively intact his problem solving abilities are a little sub par for the feline community's comfort.

He's big and fluffy and gray with a jauntily curling tail. I'm pretty convinced that the squirrels in our yard think he's the Squirrel King, because he resembles them, but bigger and not as agile.

Sooooooo.....After the Oven incident on Friday, all we need is another quasi emergency to really break the mood of relaxed splendor hanging out on Saturday had created.

We had just picked up Zoe from mom and dads and returned home. We were making a decision about dinner when I noticed our neighbors dog Peanuts was out. He's a sweet dog really, but he loves to chase my cats. Not two weeks earlier we were trying to get Gemini down from a tree because Peanuts was trying to have his way with her.

There is a window on our porch we leave partially open for the cats in just such an emergency. Jupiter however, being a few whiskers short of a tuna did NOT make a go for the window. Oh, he went past it alright, but no IN IT.

Instead he ran UP the tree and stayed there. Cats climb trees, I know. And rarely do they ever need the fire department to help them down. This time however, we had to complicating factors.

(1) The mockingbirds are nesting. For anyone who has ever had a mockingbird nest in a tree or NEAR a tree in your yard you know the dangers. They will dive bomb ANYTHING that comes close to their nest. We nearly lost Gracie (big fat cat) in a freak nesting incident that resulted in a Mockingbird sitting on her back pecking at her as she waddled to safety.

(2) There was a thunderstorm coming.

We whistled, "kitty kitty'ed" and pleaded for him to come down. His nimble little self was going to have nothing of it.

Lacking a proper ladder, David and I decided the best course of action was to get really trailer trash and pull the car into the front yard under the tree. Not the GOOD car of course, but my 1989 Ford Tempo.

In the rain, the lightning an wind, my superhero husband, much like those fireman in suburban legends, managed to coax that dipshit cat out of the tree.

I won't attempt to give you an insightful closing. I think the picture below speaks for itself.

The Virtues of a Good Husband Part I - Fire in the Hole

Husbands are great to have around on occasion. David and I had a wonderful date day on Saturday, and it was very "couple-ish" and romantic, but I'd much rather draw attention to his finer qualities, as husband, daddy and resident superhero pledged to fight household disaster. Like the small matter of our oven catching on fire.

Friday night was supposed to be Chili Dog Night. This was David and my lame attempt at trying for healthy junkfood. Our oven hadn't been working so great and our landlord finally finished it, so we though "YES! No longer will take take 45 minutes to cook some decent fries!"

That hope was dashed several minutes later, when amid the heavy smoke rolling out from the kitchen I hear David quietly scuffling about. "What's wrong babe?" I call out.

"The oven's on fire" he says

"What?"

"The oven, it's on fire. I'm putting it out".

After a fleeting trip down memory lane back to when David broiled some stale saltines in the oven to "crisp them up" and ended up with a flaming stack of cardboard crackers I gather myself to ask what the damage is.

It was minimal really; non existent. Just a little blackening around the bottom, and David's non chalantness made me believe it wasn't that big of a deal. Turns out, the first was about the size of a saucer in diameter and reached all the way to the second rack of the oven.

But he beat the flames back, time and time again - to protect home and hearth. Not only that, but My Hero CLEANED the freaking oven afterward.

Zoe slept, blessedly ignorant of this near disaster.

Nose Miner's Daughter

This morning when I dropped Zoe off at daycare there was a very sweet exchange between a mother and her daughter. They were racing to the door and giggling together and just generally having a good time.

As the mother signed her daughter in, daughter clasped closely to her side I noticed that the little one was picking her nose rather enthusiastically. I don't mean half heartedly at all...a genuine mining expedition. And then...

She
Ate
It.

That wasn't done absently either. She looked at it, thought about it, popped it in mouth and smacked her lips delicately as if letting a good wine "finish".

The world sort of stopped for me in that moment, and in slow motion I saw her mother bend down and kiss her on the lips completely unaware of what had just taken place.

Inside my head I could see myself screaming slow motion-like, like in the movies "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" but nothing came out.

I just stood there frozen in awe and horror. The 3 year old that always resides in the back of my head cackled nastily and chanted "you just kissed a booger mouth, you just kissed a booger mouth". I felt my mouth curl into a little half smile and thank GOD for that little 3 year old in my head because the woman looked at me just then and I must have still been smiling because she said "I bet you can't wait until she's old enough for this stuff".

Yeah lady. I can't wait. And when my time comes I bet I'll never even think of it.

But until then...YOU JUST KISSED A BOOGER MOUTH.

My Gal!

The Sleep of the Innocent

My friend George always says when he sees Zoe sleep that he wishes he could sleep like that without the aid of drugs. (The prescription kind lest you get a poor image of my friend George).

Zoe is one of those kids who doesn't want to sleep because she's afraid she might miss something. She's been known to wake herself up from a nap when she hears laughter (especially if it's Mom, Bridget and I all laughing. I think she gets confused because we all sound alike). She is such a little a diva already.

When Happy Baby Monkey gets tired it goes a little something like this:

Stage 1 - "The Long Blink Goodnight". In this stage Zoe opens her eyes as widely as possible in order to communicate that is still awake. It takes FOREVER for her to blink, but when she finally does it's a long blink. The next one is a little longer, then a little longer. I swear to God she's a like a weight lifter who's maxed out the weights at the end of his reps. I want to offer to spot her or something.

Stage 2 - "Sleep is for Doody Heads" When the weight of her eyes finally gets the better of her she begins to thrash her head back and forth as if vigorously denying the exhaustion will somehow make it go away. It's actually kind of freaky if you watch her, because she drools a lot right now and it would be easy for us new parents to think she's having a seizure or something (David, don't tell anyone that I actually thought she was having one in the car that day).

Stage 3 - "Elvis the Pelvis" Pretty recently Zoe has begun doing what can only be describes as a pelvic thrust while sitting in her bouncy chair. It's pretty funny, but it is effing HYSTERICAL when she adds to the drooping lids, thrashing head scenario. It's like watching an Elvis concert back in the 50's. I've often teased David who affectionately refers to his job as her Daddy as being primarily to "keep her off the pole" that he's not doing a very good job.

Stage 4 "What Sleep May Come". When she finally surrenders to sleep, it's not without a fight or her own particular flair. There is this big sigh, one final head roll and then she's OUT. But her little fists stay curled up so tight in defiance and her monkey feet clasped together, occasionally twitching like a cats tail. It's like she wants the universe to know that she's asleep but she's pretty pissed about it. We know at that stage not to move her. She's not sleeping really deeply. When the fists finally relax and those feet finally separate that means she has finally acknowledged her fate and, as with all other of her pleasures, has surrendered to it completely.

Singer of Songs

I used to be a rational adult. It's not that I don't have a fun side. I think that most people who know me will tell you that I have a real soft spot for bathroom humor and can be a pretty funny person.

I never thought I'd be the parent who sang the songs. You know which ones. The ones you sing them to make them laugh, get them to poop, get them to stop crying, etc.

Zoe likes anything sung to the tune of the old Fraggle Rock theme song but most especially she likes the tune to "Clementine".

I can't get it out of my head:

"Oh my punkin, Zoe Duncan
Oh my punkin Zoe Mine
You are sweet and oh so pretty
oh my punkin Zoe mine"

There's more, and it changes every time usually imploring her to do something like stay still or poop - but I'll spare you.

What's worse is when I sing it I sound drunk. What I'm even more afraid to admit is that I like singing it.

Da-Feet

You're probably wondering by now why the hell this blog is called Happy Baby Monkey.

Zoe has this thing with her feet. We noticed about a month or so ago that she curls her feet when she sleeps. Dad mentioned that she was like a monkey or a bird - her toes curled to help her hang on the branch when she sleeps. I almost peed my pants I laughed so hard. If your a die hard creationist, please chill out because we're not making an evolutionists statement here.

We're just saying my daughter has some issues with her paws!

She grabs things with them, splays them independently like fingers, grabs things between her feet as if they were hands and most recently has begun to "wring" her feet when upset or angry.

Seriously. I'm not making this up. Sometimes I think she uses her feet more than she uses her hands. There are toys she simply will not play with except with her feet. You know those little plastic rings of keys that all babies have? Yeah...She loves to hold them with her feet.

At first it was quirky, now it's downright entertaining!

Hence the Happy Baby Monkey. Oh...it also doesn't help her ears are turning out a bit on top. She's starting to look like a right proper chimp!

Ok, now before my mom gets angry at me for calling her a chimp, I'll post a pretty picture of her so you'll see she really is a gorgeous baby!

On Being a Modern Woman

I went to college, got the degree, got the job and in 3 years moved up the ranks from being a secretary to the head of my own department. I always thought I'd be the kind of woman who was only content with a family and a career.

Working has always brought me deep satisfaction. Imagine my surprise when domesticity began to suit me better! The first month of maternity leave I spent holding Zoe. I got to know the breadth and depth of her; learned every smell, sound and texture. She was an oasis to me and I drank in that time because I knew I would never have it again. Even with other children I knew it would never but THAT new and THAT frightening and THAT exhilarating. She was also a balm to my soul. Being with David has always made me feel healed and safe from all of the hurts of my youth - but Zoe made me COMPLETE. I was whole and finally had a clear direction and purpose. Never again would I stumble over titles or salaries - they didn't matter. I was Zoe's mom. I am Zoe's mom.

A rhythm developed of feedings and naps and I got my bearings. I cleaned my house every day and after a while had the "fifteen minute quick clean" going on. I watched Oprah and Martha Stewart and tried new recipes. I would go for long stretches, even DAYS at a time without ever thinking of work or the emails piling up in my in box. I existed in a cocoon of love and sleep deprivation.

As the time drew near for me to return to work I knew that it could never be the same. My priorities had shifted vastly and I no longer lived for the work that I did. David and I had always talked about finding a way for him to stay home with Zoe, I never dreamed I would feel the same way.

Like everything else so far though, she made it easy for us. She's a very social baby and much happier in the company of other people than just staying at home. She loves her daycare and I see her light up when we run into her providers in the grocery store or around town. They adore her as much as we do.

I'll get over this I'm sure. I'm very fortunate that she's only 5 minutes away and I can see her at lunch whenever I miss her too much. I'm getting back into the groove of work and enjoying my job again. But I still live for the evenings, when I get her home and out of her carseat and feel the sweet curve of her cheek against mine. She lets out this little sigh, and eats and goes to sleep and all is right with her world and mine now that we are...home.

Zoe's First Day

Zoe came into the world on her own terms. After a long last trimester of bedrest and worry because of blood pressure issues and the fact that the little monkey (yes, she earned the name in utero) was all kinds of breech, she bestowed us with her sweet and "attitudinal" self via C section on December 21st, 2005. For the record, it was not me who named her attitudinal - it was the nurses who cared for her after her birth.

Most babies who are born via C Section don't cry right away. Zoe came out crying. LOUDLY.
Her first order of business after being bathed and put in a bassinet was to kick the chart the nurse had lay down right off of it.



It did not at all surprise me that she did this when the story was later relayed to me, as she had been kicking the shit out of me for about 4 months, right up until the very end. She tap danced, practiced tai chi, riverdanced, played soccer and just generally used her legs to pummel me in any way possible.

The hallmark of her birth is that she came out feet first.

After the chart kicking incident young Zoe cried and fretted incessantly (I believe it is because I was not allowed to see her) and was thus aptly and affectionately named "attitudinal" by the nursery staff.

I say this now with laughter, but it was a scary time. Zoe swallowed amniotic fluid when she came out (of the TEN AND A HALF INCH INCISION) and was having some breathing difficulties. Often times C section babies breath too rapidly and do not have the appropriate oxygen mixture in their lungs having been deprived of the natural birth process. Zoe was one of them.

She was in an oxygen isolette for 24 hours after she was born; unequivocally these were longest hours of my life. I was worried sick for her though I was assured she was in no real danger. I was worried enough that I asked the nurses to amp me up on enough pain killers for me to get out of bed and get down to the nursery to see her. They were very kind to let me do this because I had more bleeding than they were comfortable with and I had orders not to get up until the next day.

True to form though, the nurses that were also mothers understood, and helped me get to her. There, touching her for the first time I finally cried. She was so little, so beautiful and so perfect. I had never felt such love and strength before. I had never been so afraid but I also felt natural and confident. I wanted to hold her so badly I almost shouted it at the nurse. Instead, I quietly held her hand and cried joyously at the miracle of her.