Six Weeks

Princess Violet I can’t believe baby Violet is 6 weeks old today.

Though in my arms she feels so very big, when I see her in other people’s arms, she looks so very little.

It feels as if Violet has been a part of our family forever, even though public record tells me otherwise.

Violet has already outgrown newborn baby clothes (11 pound clothing limits were so two weeks ago)…she is a voracious eater (she is the breastfeeding barracuda while Laurel was the breastfeeding gourmand). I have no idea what she weighs right this second but at her initial pediatrician checkups, she was gaining about 2 ounces a day. Mercy.

Pumping sucks, but it sucks less because Violet takes a bottle like a pro.

Violet's smiles and coos melt my heart without fail.

There have been several nights where Violet has slept for 6-7 hour stretches, after which I felt superhuman.

Except for the other night, where she got up every few hours and groaned noisily in between (seriously, she is a crazy loud sleep groaner), leaving me to feel like a complete zombie the next day.

I admire Laurel’s ability to sleep through Violet’s nighttime waking and groaning.

It is such a gift to experience a baby at a point in life where Jon and I are in infinitely calmer and happier headspaces.

It’s also a gift to see Laurel take so beautifully to her baby sister. And to know she will remember these days.

The recovery this time around has been a million times easier. My inbox is a bit of a disaster but I got back to client work pretty quickly after Violet’s birth.

Though my body is definitely not my own (I’ve had more breastfeeding nuisances this go around…my left boob apparently hates me), it’s nice to be coming back to my body. I’m awaiting my first online order of non-maternity clothing. #wishmeluck

I need to get cleared by my midwife, but 6 weeks also means a return to other physical things. Like running. And sex. I’m admittedly a little nervous about both. #againwishmeluck

Yesterday my mother said that if I have a third baby she’ll stop bugging me about babies. (Note: about 8 hours after Violet's marathon labor and delivery she also noted that she had her last baby at 40, so I have 3 years to deliver her a grandson. I sense a conversational trend that will not let up.)

I’m not sure what to say about that other than we’re relishing our 6-week-old and 6-year-old and taking things day by day. What a gift these days are!