The one about big differences

At 3 months old Bryce is already so different from Reed.  First, let me say that I always thought Reed was a pretty easy baby.  That was before I learned what a joy Bryce is.  He’s taught me the textbook definition of “easy baby”.  You can always see a smile playing around his eyes just waiting to pop out. His grin is so easy to draw out, in fact, I can’t even claim credit for it 80% of the time.  He doesn’t normally cry unless its one of the three things he’s trying to communicate. (Hungry, sleepy wet).  Reed used to cry because he wanted soothed.  He preferred to be bouncing, swaying, sung to- and of course always, always to be held.

Bryce enjoys being held, but sometimes he just wants his space.  It feels like you’re just giving up- in the evenings when he’s had a bottle and a clean diaper, and he’s done playing in my lap- he will start to squirm and grunt like something is wrong.  My natural reaction is to hold him closer, bounce him and hum a little tune or “shh shh shh”.  What he really wants is for me to go lay him down in his bed!  As soon as we release him, his whole body relaxes as if in a big sigh, “Ahhh… that’s all I needed! Now go away!”
This is so funny because I think he always needs me in order to be happy. I didn’t know babies could be like this!  He’s got a laid-back kind of independence. He likes to watch, observe, and be on his own a little more.  The smiles he gives us are so heart-melting.  He’s such a pleasure to be with- he makes being a parent a complete joy and oh so rewarding.  Those blue eyes just dance (we are crossing our fingers that he gets to keep them!) and his sweet voice coos with delight.

Reed dominates with his charming and (loud) out-going personality.   He’s entertaining to watch and play with so yes, Bryce has to be able to compete!  I’m sure glad he chose this route, it will definitely get him far! 

The one about surprise babies and stretch marks

When people ask me if Bryce was a “surprise” I initially get defensive and say no, he was just a bit earlier than we planned.  I wonder if this sounds as ridiculous to the listener as it does to me when I put it on paper.  I mean, how is that not the same thing? 

I say no because I don’t want Bryce to ever think that we didn’t want him.  There is such a negative connotation to the description of “surprise” when applied to a baby or pregnancy.  As a child, along with my friends, we would make fun of kids who were said to be an accident, or a surprise.  And you better believe I had full bragging rights- being the only one of my mom’s kids who was planned.

Speaking of bragging, I was had been so proud and grateful that I didn’t get any stretch marks from my pregnancy with Reed.  I have always feared them… more than feared.  Dreaded and despised them.   I didn’t want to watch my skin tear apart and leave angry jagged lines that would scar me forever.  I knew that if I didn’t get any stretch marks then I would be able to lose the pregnancy weight and get just as fit as before so that no one would ever be able to tell I had kids.  Every magazine cover displaying some celebrity mom in a bikini claiming to have the secret convinced me it was possible.  My abs have always been my most favorite feature of my body- hands down.  Even after I lost the weight, it took me until Reed was 6 months old, almost to the day, to get into my old jeans because my hips were still coming back together.  But it still wasn’t the same.  The skin isn’t as taut and my belly button looks like it just came home from partying all night.

Then there was my pregnancy with Bryce, I was a few pounds shy of my previous max pregnancy weight, but definitely not in as good of shape.  Less toned and all around less fit from not working out every single day of my pregnancy.  Let’s face it- I was a lot more tired from keeping up with a toddler and making sure he was getting everything he needed.   

Mike was supposed to be my “Stretch Mark Lookout” since I couldn’t see the lower half of my belly.  I wondered sometimes if he would have said anything if he did spot one.  Would he keep it secret from me for fear of unleashing a torrent of wailing complaints?  Nearly two months passed after Bryce was born before I saw it.  A small slanted brown line, about an inch and a half in length on the left side of the lower part of my belly.  I smiled.  I placed my hand on it, I rubbed my finger over it, I pulled at it and poked it while I stared down at it.  I stood straight up and looked at it in the mirror.  I wanted to see it as others would see it.  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from it- I wanted to snuggle it and love it. 

Much to my astonishment, I didn’t hate it. I wasn’t disappointed and I didn’t want to cry.  All the reactions I expected – just didn’t happen.   Of course, I was looking at a tiny little thing- hidden for so long because it blends into the indentations my clothes leave on my skin anyway.  In no way did it resemble the claw mark of a beast.  So, I am still grateful, believe me.  It’s my trophy.  It’s like a tattoo that I got to remember a wonderful vacation.  

I love my babies- I don't even think of my body the same way anymore.  And I know how incredibly cheesy this all sounds.  Before I was a mom, I thought it was all excuses and defenses when women proclaimed their love for their post baby bodies.   An excuse for why they never got back into shape.  Now I see something different. I relate to the changes in the way you look at yourself, how you can learn to love yourself again and accept the differences. 

But I will get back into shape.  I will wear a bikini on the beach again.  There will be no exceptions.