Sound the Trumpets!

I'm trying to post as much stuff as I can possibly remember as it comes to me about my new motherhood experiences. Farrah will be three weeks old on Monday. Can you believe it?!! Before we know it, she'll be enrolled in Kindergarten and we'll have to start making quarterly visits to the principal's office. Of course we won't have to do that, because she's just too perfect. Anyway, getting to know our daughter has been quite fun and tiring. The whole diaper changing experience has not been as big of a deal as I thought it could be. One very good characteristic of Farrah is she doesn't like to be dirty. Not that there are a lot of people who like to sit in their own feces, but she really isn't a fan. She pretty much gets her diaper changed minutes after she blows.

Yes, Farrah has trumpets in her pants. She is a product of her father. At three weeks of age, she can put many beer guzzling, chili eating, men to shame with the racket that her butt makes. It is quite impressive. Farrah also has a way to announce that a good fart or poop is on its way. She grunts. She bears down, lets loose a grunt, does her dirty business, and releases an "ahh" and sigh of relief. Every time she does this I can't help but laugh. Of course, she times a massive crap almost immediately following a recent diaper change. The words, "Are you kidding me?" have escaped my and Mike's mouths at least three times a day since her arrival. She knows how to keep us on our toes, because believe me, I don't want to hold her and smell that. It's not "cute", it's smelly.

Speaking of smelly, holy lord did her umbilical cord stink like death. At first, the smell scared us thinking that our little girl's belly button was infected. Later, after talking to other mothers we learned that some smell and some don't and that it is perfectly normal. A lot of empty diapers that I was getting ready to change were a result of thinking that she had crapped herself, when in fact it was her rotting cord. Last week I took her to her doctor's appointment for her second PKU test and the doctor was kind enough to remove the cord. I had to step out of the room for fear that I would either faint seeing her do this or barf all over the place. Of course, they didn't want the mess so I was sent out for the minute it took for them to remove it. Apparently, the cord was also acting as a plug for an incredible amount of shit that Farrah was storing. It didn't hurt her when it was removed, but when it was she crapped all over the place including all over the nurse and peed all over the exam table. I suppose I could've watched and simply participated by barfing and contributing to the mess. I'm sure they're glad I didn't. The doctor and nurse were very gracious and kind about the little "accident".

Breastfeeding. Ah, the wonders of being a mother and being responsible for the wellbeing, health, and weight gain of your child. It has come pretty naturally for me, but it hasn't been without it's challenges. It can be quite painful at times. Luckily, I had a good talk with Evie who told me to just tough it out the best I can. If I couldn't do it, I wouldn't be judged. Well, I've managed to keep it going this long and intend to continue. Being the naive new mother that I am, my first two weeks into this thing I thought I was supposed to put a boob in her face every time she cried or fussed. That, of course, made me very tired. All she would end up doing is eating for about 5 minutes and fall asleep. It concerned me because I thought she wasn't getting enough to eat. Mike was kind enough to introduce me to the magic that is the pacifier. She just wanted to be nurtured. So we now provide her with artificial nurturing from time to time.