Baby Champuru is just over a month old now and I think I’m finally starting to settle in to my new role as a mom. Before her birth, I was so afraid that I had not a maternal bone in my body, but thankfully, it seems that everyone’s assurances about my maternal instincts kicking in were right on the money. I may not be in the running for any “mom of the year” awards, but I think I’m doing okay.

In the beginning, I was leery about doing things like cleaning her belly button when the umbilical cord stump was still there, cutting her fingernails, and giving her a bath. She seemed so small and fragile that I was afraid I’d accidentally break her. Hubby, the good daddy that he is, stepped up and took care of those tasks that I was reluctant to perform. Now I realize that she’s not as fragile as I first thought and I can handle her with much more confidence. It took a little while, but I am officially over my fear of newborns.

I’ve also discovered why so many new moms get nominated for makeovers on What Not to Wear. Lately, my look consists of a t-shirt (usually adorned with a spot or two of spit up) and a pair of shorts. My hair is perpetually tied back into a ponytail and it’s a rare occasion when I’m able to style it with a hair dryer, much less hit it with a flat iron as was my pre-baby daily ritual. And as for makeup? Are you kidding? But honestly, when Baby Champuru is studying my face with those bright, inquisitive eyes and gives me a fleeting newborn smile, I feel like the luckiest, most beautiful woman in the world.

Perhaps I’m just feeling ambitious (or crazy), but I’ve decided to embark on NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) again this year. Normally, posting a blog entry every day for a month isn’t such a monumental feat, but with a newborn this may turn out to be a challenge.

I’ve tried to tackle NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in the past, but ran out of steam about halfway through. Writing a 175-page (50,000 word) novel in 30 days isn’t the easiest task to complete, even if the stated goal is “quantity, not quality.” I also have issue with investing so much time in writing something that I’d be ashamed to let anyone read at the end of the month. If I’m going to put so much effort into a project, it would be nice to have a product that I can be proud of — or at least don’t feel like relegating to the Recycle Bin immediately upon completion.

So, here we are, the beginning of November. Let’s see how long I’m able to keep this up. Pardon me if the content is mundane, but then again, what would be different than the usual?

Are you NaBloPoMo’ing?

I am going to renew my subscription to Parenting magazine and they are offering a one-year “gift subscription” that I can give to a friend at no extra cost. This is an informative magazine for parents of children under 12 and I’ve enjoyed reading it since my second trimester of pregnancy.

If you’re interested in getting a free subscription, just send me an email using the CONTACT ME tab at the top of this page. Send me your name and mailing address and 12 months of Parenting magazine will be on its way to you. (Come on, you know me, I’m not a stalker. Besides, what new mom has time to do crazy stuff like that?)

I only have one gift subscription to give, so be quick!

UPDATE: Robyn was the first to send me an e-mail, so she is the recipient of the free subscription!

It’s weird when you’re actually apprehensive when your baby is behaving well.  Ironic, really.

Baby Champuru has been so good-natured all day and sleeping more than normal during the daylight hours, I’m afraid that tonight may end up being an all-nighter for me.  Clearly, I need all the beauty sleep I can manage, so when she’s fussy into the wee hours, it’s hard on me.  She had her bath and didn’t utter a grunt of protest, although she did make a few sour faces.  Now, she’s sleeping, well, like a baby.  How much do you want to bet that as soon as daddy gets home and we try to sit down for dinner that she’ll start screaming her lungs out?

It seems that I am very susceptible to my hormones wreaking havoc on my emotions. It happened as I was going through my in vitro process and now my postpartum hormones are raging, causing me to be weepy off and on. I spent much of last night teary-eyed over things that would normally seem trivial. Poor Hubby, having to deal with two crying females in the house. It can’t be easy on him.

Granted, I am feeling much better today. Much less weepy. Baby Champuru had a doctor’s appointment this morning to check on a rash that she has developed.  She was on her best behavior the entire time. From the time she woke up this morning to when we got home five hours later, she barely made a fuss.  She was so good, I even got to stop off at Sunnyside to pick up breakfast and a blueberry cream pie for my in-laws’ visit. Even during the visit with Hubby’s family, she was an angel.  She fussed a little bit, but quieted down quickly.  Amazing, I say.

Hubby called a few times to check on me (to make sure I haven’t had a breakdown, I guess).  When I told him how good Baby Champuru had been and how flawlessly the day went, he chuckled and said, “I prayed this morning that everything would go smoothly for you, so you wouldn’t get stressed.” You can’t knock the power of prayer, because last night, baby was fussier than normal and had crying fits nearly nonstop until almost 1 am.  I was dreading today, thinking it would be a continuation of that.  Thankfully, it was the polar opposite.

It was a good day.  That is, except for burning the curry earlier.  Baby had a massive blow-out poopie, which subsequently triggered a very loud outburst, thus distracting me from the task at hand.  My multi-tasking skillz are slipping!  But I have no complaints… at least I didn’t burn the house down!

Four weeks ago today, I was at Queen’s Hospital hooked up to half a dozen IV lines and monitors, doped up on pitocin, antibiotics, and epidural goodness, pushing with every fiber in my body until out popped the most incredible miracle of my life: Baby Champuru.

Happy first month birthday, baby!

“This one is a 14K gold and diamond studded pacifier worth $17,000 that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s daughter Shiloh Nouvel was presented by a website called Itsmybinky.com.”  — From ilovemybaby.org

Lately, I’ve been pondering whether we should give Baby Champuru a pacifier.  Maybe not the $17,000 diamond-studded one you see above, but a more humble one perhaps.

So far, we’ve managed to survive without succumbing to the temptation of putting a plug in her mouth even in the throes of early morning ear-piercing tantrums.  I will admit that it is tempting, though.  In those moments, you will do nearly anything to calm the heart-wrenching screams of your fussy newborn. Sometimes, she’ll find her own fingers and put them in her mouth, immediately quelling her cries as she sucks away contentedly on her own hand.  A few times, as an experiment, I’ve nudged her hand toward her mouth as she’s having a fit and she’ll immediately take to it, giving me a minute or two of quiet sanity.  This gives me the impression that a pacifier would have a similar calming effect.

However, I am somewhat leery about starting a potential habit that may be difficult to break later.  I’m also hesitant to give her a pacifier because of the potential for nipple confusion.  She’s doing so well with the breastfeeding that I would hate to complicate things.

We have an appointment with the pediatrician next week, so I’ll ask him what he thinks.  Moms, what do YOU think?