Dadisodes: Oh honey. That is not a nice thing to ask.  See, mommy’s belly is smaller than it was when your baby sister was inside, right?

Me:  *sobs*

(Postpartum day 9)

I know that not even two weeks have passed since I gave birth, but I don’t remember being this “poochy” after having Babisodes.

My guess is a new insatiable, breast-feeding hunger will be of no help either.

Anyhow, I am finally home. Actually, I have been home from the hospital for several days now. I’ve just been lamenting my departure.  You know?  Clean linens. Hot food and beverages served 3 times a day.  All done for me by the hospital staff.

*sigh*

It’s the closest thing to resort living I’ll ever have.

The baby and I came home just in time for the monsoon that took over New England this week.  Just in time for our basement and roof to drip water.  And just in time for Babisodes to spike a high fever and catch a cold.

The upgrade from one kid to two is already proving to be quite an adventure.

I promise to post something cohesive one day.

Perhaps when my sleep deprived mind can manage to string together a full sentence, or when my boobs don’t turn into leaky faucets at the thought of the baby.

I totally forgot how far breast milk travels.

Same goes for poop.

You’re welcome for not posting pics.

“Mommy, can we go into the ocean now?”

I slowly stand and untie the sarong from my hips and gently toss my hair to shake out the sand.  This sends the little feet beside me dancing, anticipating the splashes to come.

The shock from the chilly sea jolts me back to reality.

I am actually in my living room, sitting in an armchair.  I must have dozed off momentarily while my daughter sleeps on the sofa.

My body sits still as my head continues to swirl.

It wasn’t really a dream.  It happened.

Six months ago in a warmer place, during a more carefree time.

When the only temperature that mattered was the atmosphere outside, and thermometers were rarely placed under a tongue.

Where living is done outdoors, and no age limit applies to getting drunk on the sun.

A time when sunshine fueled the energy of my child.

We are coming up to day 7 of sickness in our house.  My daughter’s fever continues to linger and is taking its sweet time to taper down.    This is the longest she has ever been ill, and I’m sure her hacking cough will persist for weeks.  I am keeping a close eye for any pneumonia-like symptoms.

Her pediatrician says she most likely has H1N1 (her official diagnosis today after dodging our calls all week).

We have been cooped up inside since last week Friday.  In that time, the temperature outside has dipped down and a new batch of leaves blanket our yard.

When we look out the window, the tree in our backyard is just about barren now.

Every leaf fallen, leaving an arbor ghost.

Each one gone, except one.

As I write this, it is still only Tuesday. TUESDAY.

Okay, so maybe it is just me.

Perhaps it may have something to do with the fact that I am on lock down upstairs. Alone.

Babisodes is spiking a fever so she is spending quality time with Dadisodes while I count the tiny cracks on the ceiling of my bedroom.

It is very sweet of him to take time away from work and take over the reigns so the fetus and I are not exposed to germs, but I’m losing my marbles. I feel awful hearing Babisodes’ congested voice downstairs and not being able to take care of her.

Not to mention, this week is when I finally have my level 2 ultrasound. This means my doctor will be checking for fetal growth and signs of abnormalities, as well as determining the long awaited sex of the baby.

In the meantime, I am doing my best to pass the time while I’m in the hole. I haven’t lost it enough to sign up for NaBloPoMo or NaNoWriMo again just yet (have you?), but I have been reading blogs, scouring Craigslist for crap I don’t need, and crocheting a bazillion small projects.

I rarely crochet.

In fact, I honestly have no idea how to do it properly and the last time I tried was over 5 years ago.

Nonetheless, I now have enough kitchen towels and beanie hats for everyone in the neighborhood.

I also just completed a multicolored, unisex newborn hat.

Simply because I could not wait the extra few days to make a solid pink or blue one.

Maybe next time.

Visit 5 Minutes for Mom to see other Wordless Wednesday participants.
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Between vaccines and dozens of prenatal blood tests, I’m feeling a bit like a pincushion.

Not that I am afraid of needles.  Not in the least. If fact, needles are the least of my fears these days. What I am most concerned about, I mean honestly losing sleep over, is the upcoming cold and flu season.

Everyone in our home has already received the seasonal flu vaccine. However, no one has been immunized against this year’s H1N1 influenza.

For weeks I’ve been putting it off. Not actually the vaccine itself, but more along the lines of ignoring whether or not to get it in the first place. Reporting on the flu and H1N1 has steeply declined in the media, despite the fact hospitalization rates and deaths attributed to influenza are higher than expected this time of year according to the CDC.  Plus, there is a pervasive belief among my friends and family that a rushed, untested version of the H1N1 vaccine would be detrimental to myself and my baby.

But then this morning during my prenatal check up, my doctor informed me that they just received the H1N1 vaccine and are scheduling appointments for pregnant patients if I was interested.

I’ll admit. I froze. I did not have an answer. It seems I am not alone. A recent study shows that while 40% of people were certain they would get the H1N1 vaccine, 41% would not.  I suppose I was just not ready to make an educated decision at that moment.

So I went home, and researched the vaccine and recent findings involving pregnant women… for hours.

Let me just say, I am officially terrified.

Just this week, of the 19 flu-related pediatric deaths reported in the U.S., 16 were confirmed H1N1 and the other 3 were likely to be H1N1.  And this year, of the 100 pregnant women who were hospitalized with H1N1, 28 have died.

Died.

These are not good odds.

I may never leave my house again. At least not until Spring.

*Are you or your family members getting vaccinated this cold/flu season? Will you get the H1N1 vaccine? PLEASE share in the comments or e-mail me at sandy@momisodes.com.

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People cook for you. Bathe you. Chauffer’s even drive you around town to the places you need to go.

However, aside from what seems to be a life of leisure, there really is work to be done.  Work in the form of play.

And there is much of it to be done.

Don’t be mistaken though.  It is no easy task.  There are many potential roadblocks along the way.  Things such as colds, flu, and other hazards that come with falling temperatures.

But with youth, comes resilience; the ability to find your feet quickly, always adaptable.

Especially when you move from warm southern California, to the bitter cold of Massachusetts at the unripe age of 15 months.

The transition was seamless.

Now at 3, she even complains of being “too hot!” when the mercury barely reaches 50 degrees F.

Unfortunately, the same laws do not apply to those lacking youth.  Especially when you’ve been raised in sweltering, hot, and humid south Florida for over 25 years.

The adaptability curve is a little bit steeper.

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