Tad was baptized on Sunday (Jan 12). Here is a picture of him in his baptism gown:
I was worried that putting a little boy in a "dress" would be weird, but the other little boy being baptized that day was dressed like Prince George, so apparently we're okay.
(Side note: He's being held by Youngest Younger Brother, who is now the tallest in his family by a few inches and will probably grow more judging by the size of his feet. That is not relevant at all, but I felt like noting it.)
Mari is Tad's godmother. She made his gown, and I think she used the same material as my wedding dress. Apparently simple little gowns are much easier than wedding dresses, though, because she hasn't made me promise to never speak of this outfit again.
Tad's godfather is one of Scott's friends from back in Iowa (Scott lived in Iowa until about 2001). Fun fact: Tad's godfather's parents are Scott's sister's godparents. (Did you follow that?) That's how you know you've been friends with somebody a long time.
I feel bad for abandoning this blog right after mentioning the whole PPD thing. I promise I haven't been sobbing into my Christmas candy this whole time. I just haven't felt like saying much. Things are getting better slowly on the mental front, and meanwhile I feel like Tad and I are sort of growing into each other, so I can spend more time doing stuff and less time sitting around thinking about how miserable I am.
We also hit a turning point with the whole breastfeeding thing right after Christmas. I probably won't ever tell the breastfeeding saga here, because I am lazy and forgetful, but for now I'll just say that it took about 6 weeks before I got to the point where I didn't want to quit pretty much every day. I do still need to work through some feelings regarding the postpartum nurses and the hospital LCs, who nearly wrecked the whole thing for us right out of the starting gate. Seriously, Tad's birth was awesome and I'd totally deliver at that hospital again, but I might just check out after 2 hours because the only good thing about the postpartum floor was the free cookies.
Male readers (hi, Dad!), this is another bit you'll want to skip.
Okay, are we alone now? Good.
A week ago I finally had my 6-week follow-up at the OB after the holidays and a random spell of -30 windchills made scheduling difficult. I would have put it off until this week because I really wanted to see Dr. B and not one of the nurse practitioners, but then on Thursday it occurred to me that at 7 weeks postpartum I probably shouldn't be having little gushes of blood every time I sneeze (that's why I told you to go away, male readers; stop complaining). So I called and talked to a medical assistant and she had me come in for the next available appointment, which was with the nurse practitioner I hadn't met before. Fortunately I took a liking to said NP as soon as I met her. Anyway, after many fun times (and when I say "fun times" I'm referring to gynecological diagnostic things and I'm being sarcastic), she went and consulted with Dr. B and now I'm on progesterone for 10 days and I have an ultrasound and follow-up at the end of the month. With Dr. B; apparently he wants to see me himself instead of having one of the NPs see me again. So I at least get my wish to chat with him again before I go my merry way. Meanwhile, I've been passing the time googling all the terrible diseases I might have. It's highly entertaining.
(It's probably just a PCOS thing. But feel free to pray for me. If nothing else, I have a lot of things I'd rather do with my money than keep buying a package of pads every week.)
Okay, moving on to more positive things: Liza Jane finally had her baby! (I think she is still mad at me for going 3 weeks early when she went a week late.) I am going to start coaching Tad on future best friend skills.
We all three had colds this week, and yet somehow we survived. I think we win at new parenthood.
On Tuesday, in spite of our sickness, Tad and I went to Kroger to get pads and fixings for chicken noodle soup and stuff. He was quietly alert for the first 15 minutes or so and then cried the rest of the trip. At one point I was power-walking over to the pharmacy section to get some vitamins and this random employee was loitering there and said hello and asked me how I was doing and started to say something else but I had already breezed past her at that point. Seriously, I'm bad at social cues but even I would know better than to try to waylay someone with small talk when she has a crying baby and seems to be in a hurry. People who are in customer service should know better than that.
But then the bagger walked my stuff out to my car and unloaded it for me, so I am once more favorably inclined toward Kroger.
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