Work in progress . . .

This blog, and my life, is a work in progress . . . I can't even think of a name so it will remain "To Be Determined" until I come up with something better. Enjoy my thoughts, rants, and raves here and while I was in journalism for 3 years in high school I'm not always accurate in grammar, etc. Forgive me, I'm sleep deprived.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

First Post

Hiya!
Tiffany here . . . trying this new method of communication out.  Sometimes I have a lot to say and sometimes I have nothing much to report.  I'm also famous for starting things and not finishing them so let's see if I actually keep this up.  I have no real goal for my blog - just another way to express my feelings/thoughts/complaints, etc.

Holy crap . . . my baby is 11 weeks old today.  Time really does fly with a baby around.  I was just looking at pictures from when he was first born - tiny and red and full of tubes and wires.  I can't believe how much different he is now.  He is absolutely incredible.  Everything I have ever heard about being a parent is true - the instant love, the overwhelming emotions, the way your life is changed in a moment.  Also the sleepless nights, over the top worry and the complete loss of any control in your life.  Overall I would call the experience incredible in every way.

I started to give up some of my controlling nature during pregnancy when severe headaches and exhaustion dominated my life and took my personal control out of the picture.  It was surprisingly easy.  I had someone else in charge and their well being to consider.  I am still surprised at how quickly and effortlessly I adjusted to the pregnancy and the baby.  Having a preemie is nothing I ever really considered - my due date was January 25th and I had it in  my mind that I wouldn't give birth until February . . . that way I wouldn't be disappointed when he was late.  But, he entered the world 9 weeks early and I never second guessed if he would be ok and I was never really truly afraid.  I just knew in my heart that all would work out.  When they showed him to me (for a second before whisking him to NICU) I had a flash of him as a young boy and I could just see my little family in the future.  It was amazing and calming.

I am ready to go back to work.  There, I'm a terrible Mom or whatever.  I went into the hospital on November 23rd and my son was there till December 30th.  I will have been out of work for 14 weeks when I return at the end of this month.  I have been working since I was 18 and prior to this I never had more than 1 week off consecutively.  I miss the routine, I miss the social interaction , hell I even miss just driving and listening to the radio.  I know I would feel much different if H was going to daycare but luckily our parents are doing daycare until summer and then my husband is doing daycare while on summer break.  So, no daycare until September and I don't really want to think about it until then.  I'm at the point where I'm starting to forget who I am and while I think a lot of new moms/parents experience this it is harder with a preemie - I can't run errands or meet friends for lunch/dinners or take him to family events, etc.  The risk is so high during RSV season he can't be around any children or any crowds of any type - so we've been hibernating all winter.  Now, I'm complaining, yes, but I am fully aware that the situation could be worse . . . but it could also be better.  I love snuggling with my little man and seeing how much he changes every day but I feel like I will be a better Mom when I start to rediscover myself and learn to meld the pre-H and post-H Tiffany into one.  I can only watch so much Netflix and Facebook on a regular basis - I'm starting to forget who I am/was.

So, with just two weeks until my return to work I plan to enjoy every second with my guy and make sure he knows how  much he is loved.  I will try not to have panic attacks about how messy my house is or how the nursery is still not 100% done or how I need an oil change or how I really should pay more attention to the pets . . . that is not what my maternity leave is about. 

Hmmm, this has been a bunch of ramblings but there ya go.  Till next time . . .