Stranger Danger, Or My Obsessive Need to Protect Lilly

When Lilly was two weeks old, her doctor ordered a second newborn screening test because the first test's results were inconclusive (grr-we went on to have a 3rd screening done!). As Lilly and I were leaving the lab where her poor little sensitive heel had been gouged by an insensitive hulk of a lab tech, an elderly lady approached us and said, "I promise I won't keep her, but you have to let me hold your baby." After I got over my initial shock at this absurd demand, I firmly but nicely told the lady that Lilly had just had her heel carved, was pretty upset, and she didn't feel like leaving the comforts of her wrap (I had her tucked firmly in our Moby wrap).

Most people would have taken the hint, wished us a good day, and moved along. This was no ordinary lady. She proceeded to follow me to the car, asking the entire way if she could hold Lilly. In her defense, I think she suffered from the onset of dementia, because 1. She talked about the loss of one of her children as if it happened yesterday, rather than 50 years ago (Her daughter died at the age of 22), and 2. She couldn't remember what kind of car she drove (!) or where she would have parked said car.

I felt sorry for the lady, but I could only visualize the woman getting confused while she held my newborn, and then me tackling her in order to get Lilly back. I didn't want to risk it.

I recall that my mom told me that people always wanted to hold me as a baby. I wonder if most moms face this dilemma. I say dilemma because while moms need any and all help offered, there is a strong need to protect our babies from any possibility of harm.

Recently, at the post office I was filling out a ridiculously long form, while Lilly hung out on my hip. She was so good, as always. She was curious to see what happened at the post office. At one point, she started laughing hysterically, which always makes me laugh, too. She was content to sit on my hip and people watch.

As I filled out the necessary form, a kind woman offered to hold Lilly, while I finished what I was doing. She was not the first person to ever make such an offer. I appreciate the offers to help, but do any mothers actually say yes in these situations?

I can see three reasons to decline the offers:

1. Stranger Danger
2. Cold/Flu Season
3. My Maniacal Obsession of Keeping Lilly Away From Reasons 1 & 2

Secretly, I wish I was confident in the sanity and healthiness of others to allow them to hold Lilly long enough for me to finish whatever project I am working on at the time. Additionally, I really get a thrill from watching other people have fun with Lilly, and she benefits from the stimulation.

Pre-Lilly, I enjoyed getting my hands on any available baby. Therefore, I like to share my own baby and allow others to have the same fun I do/did. However, I have limited my sharing to family and friends. I cannot seem to accept the kind offers of strangers. Even though I am aware that the vast majority, if not all, of the offers come from sweet women who know what it's like to be a new mom with lots of things to do with only two hands.

As I was going through the process of writing this post, Lilly got a cold. The heart wrenching reality of watching my baby suffer has only renewed my protectiveness over her well-being. However, her cold has also forced me to realize that I will not be able to protect her from all possible dangers forever no matter how much I would like to be her permanent shield. She's going to scrape her knees, get sick, or have her heart broken. That's part of life. My greatest hope for her life is that she will power through the struggles, enjoy the triumphs, and understand that her greatest earthly allies, cheerleaders, and comforters are her parents.

Lilly's Looks

Most newborn babies are cute. I say most because let's face it, some babies look like lizards. Cute lizards but still lizards. I mean nothing negative about this for as a newborn I too looked like a lizard. I grew out of it (I hope), and most babies do the same.

Lilly, however, does not look like a lizard (she takes after her father). She was born with a full head of dark hair, she has eyelashes that never end, and her eyes have yet to decide on a color, but are nonetheless dark and captivating. Don't get me wrong, Lilly had me worried for a while. When she was born she had a large quantity of hair on her ears. I thought we were either going to have to invest in a lifetime's supply of ear waxing appointments, or she would always have to wear her hair long and over her ears. On the plus side, we would not have to worry about getting her ears pierced or ever buying earmuffs. Thankfully, her ear hair fell out after about four months.

Dirty Coffee Water is No Match for Lilly

11-30-10

My coffee tastes like dirty dishwater that has been steeped with a bag of smelly gym socks. I understand that my usual coffee-flavored water is weak to most people, but I have always enjoyed its relaxing affect on my morning. Is this sudden distaste due to a disastrous coffee-making error on my part? Did I accidently make my coffee using dirty dishwater that has been steeped with a bag of smelly gym socks? Or has Lilly sent me over the edge into the sludge filled abyss that is heavy, fully loaded coffee drinking? I love my daughter, without a doubt, but if she has caused me to become a tar-chewer for breakfast, something will have to change.

I have been told that babies begin sleeping through the night somewhere between four and six months. All along my goal has been to move Lilly from the bedroom I share with my husband to her own room by the time she reaches six months. The idea was that Lilly could sleep in her own room when she could sleep through the night. As my little girl just turned five months this past weekend, the deadline is looming.

Generally (and I think most mothers think this of their own babies), I think my baby is superior to all other babies. She’s cute, sweet, very intelligent, and squishy (the ultimate baby compliment). However, there is one area where my daughter does not excel on the Best-Baby-Ever scale. Each night, regardless of how late she first falls asleep, Lilly summons me from the cozy shelter of my bed and demands to be fed.

One thing new mothers don’t really expect, at least I didn’t, was the flood of unsolicited advice I would receive after giving birth. It’s as if I gave birth to a baby and a sign that says, “Help me, I don’t know what I am doing!” Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing, and I appreciate all advice. I enjoy hearing from other mothers who have had similar experiences. I find comfort in hearing from other sleepless mothers who have tried everything possible to get a good night’s sleep.

I have been told to stuff Lilly full of a tasty concoction of breast milk and baby cereal right before bed. This only results in bigger diaper issues than I care to discuss, and Lilly still wakes a few hours later for her moonlit feeding. I have tried using a pacifier to pacify (sorry) her habit of eating in the middle of the night. When I have tried this method, I am up every hour (or 30 minutes!) to replace the pacifier. Eventually, I give in to her insistence to eat and then crawl under the covers for a few more hours of sleep. Some mothers have suggested I take away one of Lilly’s naps during the day. However, if Lilly feels like napping, I cannot wave a magical wand to prevent her from falling asleep.

Sure, I’m tired most days. Looking in the mirror is a scary experience; my eyes are puffy, dark, bloodshot orbs. Frankly, I’m surprised Lilly isn’t scared of the sight of me. She’s braver than me. My one solace is in the cup of coffee I enjoy every morning. That one cup transforms me from a walking, rattle-shaking zombie into a “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” singing, smiling mother. For now, I must make my coffee stronger, and wait patiently for my little darling to sleep soundly. I know that with time she will sleep for longer stretches of time. I understand that my sleeplessness is a minor problem, and I am grateful for a happy, healthy, bundle of pure sweetness.