GROWING PAINS

This week marked the appearance of baby acne on Nessa's face and what appears to be a receding hair line. Also, her flatulence has reached new levels, but the good news is she's crying less and less about it. We keep assuring her she will someday come to enjoy the act of releasing trapped air. But whilst digestive satisfaction is something she is still learning, elimination is something she has perhaps already mastered - she farts like a granddad.

With my mother's departure, I took matters into my own FTM (First Time Mother) hands and boiled the nipples. Too bad I didn't hear the timer buzz and let them go about an hour. Nipples fuse to the bottom of a pan without water and even a multi-level house fills with smoke in a hurry, I found.

Undeterred by my incompetence, I tackled the scariest of FTM tasks, the dreaded Nail Clipping. I caught Nessa's flailing arm, got her long, jagged thumbnail in the grips of those tiny Gerber clippers, grimaced, then clamped down. Luckily, no blood was shed and neither of us cried.

Daddio was working in New Mexico much of this past week, so Granny Ernestine, a.k.a. the Queen Mother, came to help out. She patiently listened to me complain about everything that tweaks the pride of an FTM yet didn't pass judgment. After raising seven children masterfully, it's been maybe 55 years since she's been an FTM with baby Judi. Even so, she said the memory remains fresh.

You'd think Granny was here to care for Vanessa, but no, it was clear she was caring for me. I thought, erroneously, that I'd get a few things accomplished around the house if someone were here to hold Nessa as she farted, wriggled, and grunted. In reality, aside from going to my 3 hour work meeting, I simply wanted to sleep or else sit around like a mute when I wasn't nursing. I needed the Queen Mother here to spot me as I learn.

Granny showed the way with much Vanessa-cuddling and bouncing on the exercise ball. In fact, as I disappeared for a nap with Nessa in Granny's trust, I later discovered the two of them had reclined on the couch for a cat nap of their own. So smart!

Yesterday we broke out Nessa's bathtub and gave it a whirl. We told her she's a Water Dog and hummed Little Surfer Girl as we sunk her hiney into the warm water. She was not fooled: this bath thing was a new experience so she noted its newness with the prerequisite newborn cry-fest.

We haven't weighed VH1 officially lately, but we measured her at 23 inches yesterday. That's 2.25 inches of growth in five weeks. We know she's grown in girth, too, because she's graduated from the only diapers that used to fit her - Pampers Newborn Swaddlers - to the slightly larger Huggies Newborn size. We consider this progress. Heck, we're thrilled she's not still in premie clothes.

WHO IS A WHOLE MONTH OLD?

Yes, Little Miss Vanessa has hit both the four week mark and also the one month mark. To show her excitement, she's kept her mama and Daddio extra busy.

Her Grandma Patty left on a jet plane last Wednesday at the crack of dawn. Didn't that disrupt the daily routine? Oh yes, it did. We all miss her extra help and motherly comfort. Of all people in the world who have license to give us parenting advice, she restrained herself. She never questioned our techniques or decisions and didn't offer advice. Talk about a confidence booster! I wish I could grow up to be that clever a mom to Vanessa.

Vanessa, in keeping with my letting my mother fly away, let her umbilical cord drop off the same day. Thank goodness that thing went! It was crusty and full of cooties and I for one am elated that it's gone. In its place is an adorable little navel that looks very much like a cinnamon roll without the cinnamon.

Daddio had a pair of speaking engagements at a national sports conference in L.A. this past Saturday, so we took the opportunity to test Nessa's ability to road trip. We grabbed the diaper bag, a thermos full of frozen breast milk, and strapped VH1 into her car seat - for 12 hours straight. Lucky for us, our Little Monkey Princess is lulled to sleep by the bump and hum of the California highway system. She did have a melt down or two, but they were heat- and digestion-related, and both passed.

After Nessa's third week of life, I found her to be sturdy enough to put her on the teat while I lie in bed without fearing so much that I'd roll over and kill her. This has made our wee hour feedings loads easier. Everyone is happier. Even so, I continue to be on milk duty every 2 hours and sometimes every hour. When Nessa nurses for 15-30 minutes at a pop the every-hour schedule leaves precious little time after burping and diapering to nap, answer messages, or update blog sites, and pumping is out of the question.

I look frightful, by the way. Even so, I've made it out to a few County board meetings (my volunteer work) and will continue to try to do so. If nothing else, it ensures I switch out of my pyjamas at least once per week. Daddio commented that I'm "like a superhero" because in every photo and all day and all night I can be seen in the same (pyjama) costume - so everyone can recognize me. See me take the hint and upgrade to a tee shirt for around the house...

MOTHER'S LOVE 101

Our beloved daughter has passed the three week mark. That means we've now been parents for the same amount of time. Woo hoo! During this last week, VanNestle has surely put on more delicious baby weight. Her dad very scientifically weighed her (stood on the bathroom scale holding her, then again after he put her down) and declared her to be over nine pounds now. Eat, girl, eat! Of course she was officially due just a few days ago, so we knew she was on the scrawny side of things when she was vacuumed out. She's still long and lean, but made of solid lead.

This week we also caught her rooting around and ultimately locating her thumb as a handy pacifier. Is thumb-sucking frowned upon? We were delighted with her discovery!

Daddio and I have been trying to get a day and night routine down. We thought Vanessa had a newborn "fussy" period every evening between 9 pm and 11 pm. During these times we discovered VH1 loves her Daddy's soft lullabyes - especially when he customizes the words to Little Surfer Girl for her. I blamed abdominal gas, which is one of only two reasons for her to cry. Jack wondered if she might be colicky, but, when I read up on colic, I learned that it has absolutely nothing to do with gas. Colic is thought to be a raw nervous system issue and is diagnosed when a baby cries 3 or more hours at a time, 3 or more times per week. Well, Vanessa cries for 5 to 10 minutes at a time, so she's not colicky.

It turns out Nessa has been crying in the evening for the other of the two reasons - hunger. I found that if I pick up on her rooting behavior, rather than watch the clock or wait for her to cry, I find I can feed her hungry self before she has a melt down. I consider this to be an important step in my development as a parent. My nursing mantra has been driven by two statements made by baby experts (and our pediatricians and lactation specialist): "Unrestricted access to the breast makes for a healthy, well adjusted baby," and "You can't overfeed a baby on breast milk."

So My Little Monkey Princess has been drinking long and often. I can't help but think she's adorable as she fills her belly to capacity, then just drops off in a milk coma at the breast, looking rather like a drunken sailor with his head down on the bar.

Although it's hard to not think I am the only mother who is crazy in love with her newborn, I do find myself marveling at how powerful this motherhood thing is. In fact I look over at my own mother, who is often holding Nessa, and think, "There's no way she loved me this much. Has anyone loved me this much?" Then I see my own mother's love in action - holding Vanessa, helping around the house, praying her rosary every single day for Vanessa for five years, and coming to Jack's and my rescue this summer when I was released from the hospital and could barely walk, let alone eat. Hmmm. I can't handle the thought of my daughter being uncomfortable with a burp trapped in her belly - how was it for my mother to see her daughter struggle with cancer and maybe not be able to have children?

I hold Vanessa on my chest as she sleeps with her ear to the familiar rhythm of my heartbeat and respirations and I think, "This is really true. She's really ours!" Then of course that doesn't feel right. She is God's - Jack and I have been entrusted with her care. Boo hoo hoo! I'm so thankful we've been given this honor. I just hope we don't screw it up too badly.

UNCLE JIMMY'S PHOTO SHOOT

Here are photos of Vanessa and her aged family at the beach this past weekend. You see, Auntie Susan and Uncle Jimmy came to visit so Van took them to her favorite beach and off leash dog park, Old Porte. Uncle Jimmy brought his fancy cameras for the occasion.

Auntie Susan held VanNestle most of the time and jiggled her nearly constantly. The day after they left the UPS man arrived with a big box full of a high tech swing with different swing motions, speeds, tunes and a mobile and mirror. Vanessa loves it, but she sure does miss Auntie Susan. In fact, we had to keep a close eye on Auntie Susan and Uncle Jimmy as they held their niece. You see, she looks amazingly like their daughter, cousin Adrienne, who is now a senior in college. We wanted to be sure no infants were schlepped away in the wrong car at the end of the weekend.

Van had a sponge bath the day before - something she enjoyed - as well as her very first shampoo - something she really did not care for at all. So we thought she was ready for a photo shoot. See Mama and child in their natural habitat, goofing off in their pyjamas at the diaper changing station. We spend most every day in our jammies since days and nights blend together indiscriminately on Van's short feeding and gas expulsion schedule.

TWO WEEKS AND GROWING

Little Miss Vanessa had her two week follow up appointment with the pediatrician this week and boy! was he dazzled, (We had met with his partner last week.) Van had dropped to 6 lbs. 14 oz. during her first week of life. Then, six days later, she had bulked up to 7 lbs. 12 oz. "Why, that's more than 2 ounces per day of weight gain!" her pediatrician exclaimed. We, the clueless new parents, just stood there. "You should probably ask me how that compares to normal development," he finally said. "It's incredible. I'm not sure if I've seen it before. And you've done it all on breast milk? Clearly you're producing high octane." No wonder I feel like a Holstein - I am one. And then he said the most validating words a new mother can ever hope to hear, "You're doing your job." We all beamed. He went on to review our situation and said, "She's a miracle baby." Then added, "It's an honor to meet you." He concluded our meeting with the diagnosis, "She's perfect in every way!"

Although it's hard to top this kind of event in our week, we have had a few other incidents of Vanessa Adoration. Grandma Patty announced, "She's a genius!" one day after Van knew when to stop crying. Auntie Susan and Uncle Jimmy came to visit and immediately noted that Nessa has an iron grip and were very impressed with her ability to lift her head and swivel it around like a turtle. Auntie Susan wouldn't put little Nestle down. Uncle Jimmy shot many photos of Nessa on the beach, saying she has the coveted 2-2-2 facial proportions plastic surgeons look for.

Daddio brought VH1 to the varsity weight room at school to introduce her to some of her mentors. See Van being cooed over by an attentive group of impressive collegiate scholar athletes. Many commented on how cuuuuute Nessa is, despite being in the alien newborn stage. We are way too proud to disagree.

Daddio, upon learning that Tiger and Mrs. Woods are expecting a baby, declared Nessa to be their child's team mate on the junior golf tour. You see, he's chosen golf as her scholarship sport and is obsessing on where to find junior clubs for a leftie with pink grips. Mama is simply hoping Nestle will play nice with the other kids on the short bus.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

We are ringing in 2007 with a resolution to be committed, attentive parents. It's about time!

I exist to please my newborn daughter. I supervise her sleep patterns. If she doesn't void on schedule, I am expected to intervene. In terms of nuture and nutrition, I am the Mother Lode. So far, Vanessa has been very patient with me and my new role. I have had to remind myself that millions of generations of newborns have survived first time parents.

VanNestle had her first pediatrician check up this week. She checked out normal in every way. The pediatrician said I can call in when things get tough and I get frustrated and overwhelmed. So far, that's not happened, but when I mentioned that, the pediatrician held my gaze and said, "Just wait."

Daddio has been hands-on, as we all expected, and is showing his colors as Uber Dad. At the pediatrician's, I completed the paperwork while he man-handled his daughter, undressing her, weighing her, rediapering her and launching into a tune to calm her. The pediatrician gave me a sideways look as if to say, as all the postpartum, NICU, and OB office staff have said, "Where did you find this guy?"

My mother has also been a huge help. She's up at 5 am, holding her granddaughter for 3 hours so Mama can sleep hard, calling Vanessa "My darling, precious little pet" as only a grandmother can.

Granny Ernestine had to go home, but she gets photos of Vanessa on her cell phone almost daily, and sends back text messages of love. On Sunday Granny stood up in front of her church congregation and gave a testimony of Nessa's birth, complete with photos. Several people approached her after the service, knowing the story of Vanessa over the years. Granny's weekly exercise group has also been a faithful prayer team on Vanessa's behalf. This child is truly blessed!

In addition to being surrounded with expert help, I have been recovering amazingly well. Recovering from the c-section has been swift and easy - only the muscles in my back are sore now, and that's surely due to nursing. I'm able to produce milk like a herd of new mamas and may have to open a stand at the weekly Farmer's Market to sell the surplus. I had been very worried about going from the benevolent hormones of pregnancy back into the agitation and ill health of menopause, but I forgot I'd get the chance to experience lactation first. I like lactation.

I stepped on the scale on Saturday, one week after delivery, and I've already lost 25 lbs. - nearly my full pregnancy weight. I'm back into my regular clothes. Much of the weight was surely preeclampsia edema that plagued my feet, legs, hands and face. Friday morning I got up and Jack said, "Wife! You have cheek bones again, and your eyes look so big." See photo of my painfully swollen Shrek legs, taken two days before delivery. Jack wants to be sure everyone knows he's the 6' 5" man with size 13 feet on the left in the photo.

Vanessa and I are both adjusting well to our new stations as Mother and Daughter, despite a dramatic pregnancy and delivery. For the first time in years, I actually feel normal. Well, except when I try to tell my baby the Story of Vanessa and I get to the part where the pregnancy is going badly, but Vanessa is very patient, and God put it in her mama's heart that little Vanessa would be just fine. That's when I sob uncontrollably with relief and spill hot, salty tears all over my daughter's new skin. She doesn't complain.