Photos by Kristeen Marie Photography
Age: 1 month
Stats: 8 lbs even, 21.5 inches.
Nicknames: Lovebug, Munchkin, Little Dude, Sir
Sleep: You have slept for 3 hours straight on 4 occasions, and each time you do mama feels like she can conquer the world. Or at least the laundry. It’s most common for you to sleep in 1.5-2 hour segments, but it’s not unheard of for you to only make it 30-45 minutes between feedings. During your first growth spurt you basically never stopped eating. In other words, mom now averages 4 hours of broken sleep every 24 hours. Brutal, but much better than the 1.5 total hours she averaged the first two weeks. Progress!
Loves: You’re a thinker.
You love to study your surroundings, and will crane your neck to stare at things as we carry you around the house or the yard. When we put you in your boppy lounger, you gaze out the window until you fall asleep. Or until you start screaming.
You are also a fan of car rides, stroller walks, and cuddling with dad. He has a strong heartbeat and you love snuggling up on his chest to listen to it.
Memorable Moments: The time you peed on my pillow and pooped on my hand. Everything else is a blur of diapers, spit up, and tears.
Information that will hopefully answer FAQ.
Reviews have been mixed, which we expected. Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate, and that’s okay. It’s easy to pronounce, simple to spell, and unique (pretty sure he won’t be the 17th Enzo in his class). Those were three of my main criteria. We also wanted it to have special meaning, and that comes from its origin. Enzo is Italian, which is an homage of sorts to Ron’s grandfather, who immigrated here from Italy as a child and is basically the man who inspired the Dos Equis commercials. Just kidding. He doesn’t drink, but he is very interesting to talk to. He and Ron’s grandmother are what we aspire to be like as a couple and individuals. They are faith, generosity, hospitality, humor and kindness. And when Enzo learns about his name, he will learn about them.
His middle name, Alan, is Ron’s middle name, would have been my middle name if I had been a boy (Joseph Alan), and is Scottish, which I believe is his grandmother’s heritage.
Enzo means winner and Alan means handsome so I call him my handsome winner. When we were researching the name Enzo we found a Wikipedia page listing of famous people by that name and the majority were athletes. Judging by this kid’s muscle tone and strength, it’s a good bet he will be one too. Looking forward to seeing where his skills and passions take him.
So no, we didn’t name him after the pizza place by UIndy or Enzo Ferrari or any soccer players, current or late. (Enzo is a hugely popular name overseas because of some soccer stars, according to various name websites). But it’s fine if that’s what you think of when you hear his name. There are certainly worse connotations to have.
I was up walking around the evening after surgery and never felt anything more than sore. My abs still hurt and the incision burns a little when I walk too far but overall I got lucky. Very lucky, I think. The hardest part for me was following the rules and not overdoing it when I got home.
Also, for the record, I changed my clothes every day I was in the hospital. I only share that detail because the jury was split on whether they changed or just wore the hospital gown. Add me to the non-gown tally. I actually ran out of clean outfits to change into since I wasn’t planning to be there the extra day required for a c-section. I also took showers and put on makeup each day, once I was allowed to shower. It made me feel a billion times more human, and I needed that after being hooked up to so many machines and having my body frequently manhandled during 24 hours of fruitless labor (pretty sure every nurse on the floor got to check my cervix at some point) and eventual surgery.
I’ve lost 20 pounds, but I still have 20-30 to go. Weight loss has come to a complete halt unfortunately. I’m not cleared to work out yet and I can’t diet while trying to build up my breastfeeding supply so there’s nothing I can do about it at the moment. I’m not too terribly bothered by it but it’s pretty annoying not having much to wear while in the between stage.
The first couple weeks I handled everything relatively well, even with an average of 1.5 hours of sleep per day. But around 2-3 weeks it all caught up to me and I crashed and burned.
I thought I might be headed for PPD at that point, but I just needed more sleep. I started taking a nap in the evening before Ron goes to bed, to try and get a head start on the night. I also now attempt to get out of the house for a walk each day, and usually I leave to pick up dinner on my own. <– Which, full disclosure: I used to think moms were exaggerating when they made jokes about driving alone feeling like a vacation. They were not. They. were. not. Tired as I am, I roll the windows down, turn the old school hip hop up, and rap my way to and from Panera, because it makes me feel 18 and free for a minute. And I need that minute, now that a tiny human depends on me for survival.
Because it’s overwhelming, on so many levels. We are surviving and adjusting but truth be told these first weeks (probably months) are kicking our butts. I could go into detail about all the changes and how they are affecting us, but I don’t have the energy for that right now. Feeding an 8 pound nugget is the most stressful, physically demanding thing I’ve done. Running 100 miles a week doesn’t even hold a candle.
Someday I’ll circle back and address all the ways the first month challenged and changed us when Enzo is sleeping more. Whenever that is.
We love you Enzo. If you could stop trying to kill us that would be wonderful, but we’ll keep loving you regardless.