7 Quick Takes (Hoosier Snow Dump Edition)

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Who is ready for CONCLAVE?!
By this time next week, we might have a new pope!! How exciting is that?

I made a guess on FantasyConclave.com on who the next pope will be. I also got to guess what name he will choose, and I actually think that was fun to guess too! I chose Pius XIII as his name :)

(This is also over on my sidebar for the next week.)

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I'm starting to wonder what will happen first. Will Baby Cora take her first steps, or will we have a pope? She almost did it this morning at library story time. But then she didn't.

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I made sangria for the first time!

This was on my 101 list. And the name of the wine I chose was . . . not an accident.

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We got snow-dumped on Tuesday night. Most of the schools were cancelled on Wednesday. I think it's officially the most snow I have ever seen, so of course I had to bundle up the baby and take her out into it. She did okay for a bit, then she proved she really was my daughter by hating it.

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My husband B had quite the trial leaving for work in the snow on Wednesday morning. His job has to have someone there 24/7 (and no, he doesn't work at Super Wal-Mart), so he obviously wasn't getting the day off. But he was trying to leave at his usual 6am, and the stupid apartment complex snow-plower caused him a lot of grief because he . . . plowed.

Basically, the plow had only done a rough plow of the main apartment street and kicked all the snow to the side, thus creating a 3-foot hill at the area where everyone comes out of their garage (it's kind of like a side street or alley). B tried to scale the 'hill' in his Buick Century and failed. He tried digging himself out with his bare hands, then came in to get some gloves and boxes and who knows what else. (Note: we don't own a shovel. Yet.)  He eventually had to change his clothes before he left since he was all wet.

Then he called me right after he got to work (as I was waking up for real) and told me he was pretty sure he left the garage door open. (He did.)

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But I do have a very nice husband who cleaned all the snow off my car right after getting home from work that same day. Then the plow finally came to really plow the parking spots, and B told me to run out and move my car. So I ran out in my slippers with no wallet or coat and drove around the block a few times.

She still has Florida plates, and she was not too happy about this white stuff.

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All of that crazy weather-talk to say this:
I am officially a resident of Indiana now! A Hoosier, as we say here.

Those fingers need lotion like whoa.

I had to pass a 'written' (on the computer) test about driving, and it was actually kind of hard! I got the first question wrong, and Cora was fussing a lot next to me, so I wasn't even sure if I would pass. But I did, and then a week later I got my official license in the mail.  I was still hanging on to my Virginia license before this, and I hadn't lived in that state since 2010. It's nice to have a home again. And be registered to vote where I actually live.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

What I Wore Sunday (Vol. 12)

I have nothing profound to say today. B is at his Drill Weekend, so it was just the babe and me last night. It involved my first cry room alcove experience (not a fan), so enough said about that. We went out to breakfast this morning with some of B's relatives. That's becoming my little monthly tradition so I'm not stuck just talking to a one-year-old for days on end. They also won't let me pay for my meal, so that's . . . kinda awesome.

Linking up with Fine Linen and Purple once again

Oh, that black thing is a skirt. Here's another view.

Blazer (it's denim, btw): American Eagle // Sweater: Old Navy // Tank top: Mossimo via Target // Skirt: bottom half of a black suit (I think it was from JCPenney?) // Tights: Target // Boots: Bare Traps via DSW

I'm not so sure about the pink tights decision now that I see the pictures. They probably would have been better with taller boots. But the tights matched the little lapel pin on my blazer and my homemade headband!

I made this on my pregnancy-fueled crochet binge over a year ago. Here's the post with more details on that.

And that's all I got today.

One Year Ago

Cora turned 13 months old today.

Throughout this past month, I have been reflecting on my first postpartum month. To be honest with you, it was hell. From a long hospital stay--I went into labor on a Wednesday and didn't leave until Sunday--to issues with my postpartum care nurses and lactation 'help,' it didn't start off so great.  I couldn't stand up for more than 5 minutes at a time without wetting myself those first few weeks, and I had a hard time envisioning the day I could run a mile again. I also didn't fall madly in love with my baby right away, and often I thought other people were more excited about her than I would ever be. It's a hard road to walk when multiple voices are telling you to "Enjoy every moment!" but you find yourself hardly enjoying any of them. In fact, those first few nights home, I sobbed myself to sleep, enveloped in a combination of crazy hormones, fear of SIDS, and general "what the heck have we done? my whole life has changed overnight!" pangs.

But a year ago today was a turning point. We had been having breastfeeding issues. Cora had regained her birth weight at 3 weeks (yes, late) and then lost weight on the next check at 4 weeks. I was annoyed with the way the Family Practice doctor I got stuck with at the Naval Hospital was treating us (he was not lactation-friendly), and I had been trying to switch to a real Pediatrician. The corpsmen in Family Practice were not consistent in their practices, sometimes weighing her with diaper on, sometimes off. After the weight issue, I finally got to see the Lactation Consultant down in the Pediatric office, who was very reassuring and gave me some great advice on increasing supply. It involved some Fenugreek and losing a lot of sleep to basically pump and nurse my supply up. Those tips were great, but they also caused a small side effect: I was going insane, mostly from the lack of sleep. And to be honest, my husband was not very supportive of me continuing to do something that made me so miserable. I cried. A lot.

And then last year, on Sunday, February 26th, I sat in church and made a decision. It was the first Sunday of Lent, and we sat all they way in the back of the church (even though we're usually front-church people) because I didn't want to draw attention to my nursing baby. I wasn't actually afraid of nursing in public, but I was just ashamed that I wasn't doing it 'properly.' (I had to fix my baby's latch every time and also was doing compressions because, hey, that's what was sort of working.) I was starting to nod off due to exhaustion as the priest was giving the usual "Pick a Lenten Sacrifice" homily, but I was awake enough to follow some of it. I somehow got a jolt of energy, and right then and there I decided something. I decided I would stick this nursing thing out until Easter. If I was still in tears every other day on Easter, I would give it up. I remember having so much clarity at the precise moment of that decision.

Since I was emotionally a wreck that day, my baby's one-month milestone was forgotten. I actually don't have a single picture of her from that entire week. That is also the reason why the elephant-chair pictures don't start until 2 months. I truly regret letting that happen.

If I could go back in time and change a few things about that first month, I would. But what's done is done, and I'm not going to dwell on it right now. Some good things did come out of it, though. My labor and delivery were not disappointing to me at all, since I met my goal of avoiding the C-section (even though that meant 3 hours of pushing). The extra day in the hospital presented me with a nurse who helped me with breastfeeding more than she could ever know (she sat me in a chair! we used my nursing pillow! the baby latched!). Changing doctors showed me that I really do know how to stick up for myself and my baby.  I learned how a lack of sleep can affect me emotionally and how I turn into a train wreck when it happens. (I got screened by two different counselors for PPD, and I wasn't diagnosed with it, as it all just hinged on a lack of sleep.) We plan on having at least one more baby, and there are many things I will know going into it that will hopefully help me.

As for the breastfeeding, it obviously got better. My supply leveled out before Easter of last year, and I think I was even off the Fenugreek by that time.  Currently, I still breastfeed Cora twice a day (at waking and right before she gets in her pajamas), and those are some of my favorite times. I had a 4-week weaning plan that I threw out the window last week.

I also have truly fallen in love with my baby over the last 13 months.  She lights up my world with her laughter, and I could listen to her babbling all day without tiring of it. My baby has brought so much joy to our household, and I think I fall in love with her each day over and over again.

Whenever I hear new moms having a hard time (and those first months are very hard times), all I can say is . . . it gets better.

So much better.