Introducing Abby NormalAmy Keyishian
Nice to meet you! I’ll be blogging the first year of my baby’s life. If you want to hear a mom in her 40s dealing with a newborn and a toddler, well, friend, you’ve just hit paydirt.
Surprise! After having a hell of a time getting pregnant the first time… and even though I was still breastfeeding … and despite my advance maternal age (I’m 43), I turned to my husband toward the end of last January and asked, “Do you remember when my last period was?”
He gave me the fisheye. I mean, come on. Do I know when Tottenham last played Man United? No. There are certain things, despite our liberated status, that we just keep to ourselves about.
I did a frantic accounting of my tampons, brainstormed about what we were doing when, and discovered that I had missed two periods. Two. Periods. Remember those college days, when the waving of your scarlet “not-pregnant” flag took on almost holy significance? Guess what: when you have a lively, rambunctious 15-month-old, these things drop by the wayside. A test confirmed that my husband has a magic penis, and no, you can’t borrow it. And about eight bloated, waddling, nervous months later, out popped this gorgeous little girl on August 3rd, at 5:17 pm.
It took a couple more days for it to hit me: I had two babies. Two. Two kids. I had another kid. If Penny was taking her nap, I still had to deal with Abby. You get the picture. I’m a slow learner.
It also occurred to me that I remembered next to nothing about newborns. Actually? I knew next to nothing about newborns, since my older kid, Penelope, showed up 10 weeks early and spent 6 weeks in the NICU at our local teaching hospital. I was great at opening a plastic isolette, gathering up the wires that attached my four-pound baby to several different monitors, and chatting casually with doctors who threw around words like “meningitis” and “bradycardia.” Crisis, I could deal with. But a normal seven-and-a-half pounder who just needed me to … uh … know how to take care of her … normal needs? I don’t freakin’ know! Ack, that diaper rash is gross! Holy crap, this poop is yellow! Oh man, I’m TIRED! All new. Fresh and new and windswept.
So here I am, a second-time-mom with first-time-problems. I’ll blog as often as my kids will let me, which is to say… well, we’ll see how it goes. I make no promises except that I’ll entertain you with my middle-aged-newborn rants and musings. Okay, I don’t guarantee that either, but I hope it’s true. See you next time.